The Pale Shadows
The mist did not merely settle upon the village of Oakhaven; it breathed. It was a living exhalation, thick and grey, curling around the eaves of the stone cottages like the fingers of the drowned seeking purchase. In the center of this damp, suspended world stood the manor of Lord Alistair Thorne, a structure of black slate and heavy timber that seemed to grow out of the earth rather than...
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