The Pale Tower
The rain does not fall so much as it is exhaled by the sky, a thick, grey mist that clings to the stone walls of the Keep and soaks into the very marrow of the earth, creating a world where the boundary between the living and the dead, between the physical and the metaphysical, has dissolved into a single, shivering breath. You stand here, in the highest chamber of a tower that should not exist...
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