The Distant Nightmare
The rain in Dunmore did not fall so much as it hovered, a persistent grey mist that clung to the wool of your cloak and seeped into the bone, a cold that was less of a temperature and more of a memory of the battlefield where you had left behind your old life and the face of your father. You walked the cobblestones of the lower city, the stones slick with moss and the runoff from the tanneries,...
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