The Pale Echo
The carriage wheels bit into the frozen mud of the valley road, the sound a sharp, rhythmic cracking that seemed to echo back from the mist-shrouded trees of Oakhaven. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a magistrate whose coat is too thin for the biting wind, and you carry with you the weight of a reputation built on order and the cold comfort of law. Your concrete want is simple: restore peace...
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