The Pale Exile

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2026-08-21 10:29:05 -

The Pale Exile

The road to the Citadel was paved with stones that had seen too many boots. They were worn smooth by centuries of marching, polished by the heels of generals and the shuffling feet of scribes. Marcus walked it alone. His pack was light. He carried only a tin box, wrapped in oilcloth, and a small, rusted key. The air smelled of wet iron and old stone. It was the smell of the place he had served...

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