The Pale Altar

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2026-08-20 18:52:58 -

The Pale Altar

The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain that blurred the edges of the cobblestones and softened the sharp corners of the world into a single, damp smear of stone and shadow. Thomas Bradshaw stood at the head of the watch, his hand resting on the pommel of a sword that felt heavier each day, not from the weight of the steel, but from the weight of the expectation it...

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