The Pale Path

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2026-08-21 16:20:10 -

The Pale Path

The mist clung to the highlands of the Ashford valley, a thick, grey shroud that swallowed the stone walls of the outpost whole. Thomas Bradshaw sat alone in the watchtower, his back against the cold masonry, listening to the wind whistle through the gaps in the ancient oak timber. He was a man carved from the same stubborn rock as the mountains, his face a map of deep lines etched by decades...

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