The Pale Door
The wind did not howl so much as it pressed against the stone, a physical weight that made Elias Thorne’s shoulders ache with a familiar, grinding pain. He stood before the Pale Door, the massive slab of granite that had served as the western exit of the Blackwood Outpost for twenty years, his hand resting on the iron key that had once opened it with a satisfying click. Now, the key turned with...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 3 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen