The Pale Banner

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 05:59:57 -

The Pale Banner

The air in the great hall of the fortress at Kethwick did not smell of the roasted boar or the spiced wine that flowed in endless, dark rivers from the silver tureens; it smelled of old ink and wet rot, a scent that clung to the back of Elias Thorne’s throat like a swallowed stone. He sat at the far end of the long oak table, his hands resting flat on the scarred wood, watching the warlord,...

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