The Pale Verdict
The feast for the dead was not a celebration of joy, but a rigorous accounting of souls, and in the sealed stone crypt beneath the Abbey of St. Jude, the air tasted of damp earth and the metallic tang of old blood. Elias Thorne, Abbot of the house and a sanctioned necromancer of the Third Order, sat at the head of a long table carved from a single slab of granite, his hands resting on the...
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