The Pale Tower
The mist in Oakhaven did not lift so much as it thickened, a grey shroud that swallowed the cobblestones and the low slate roofs of the village, leaving only the silhouette of the gate visible against the pale sky. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the watch post, his hands resting on the hilt of a sword he had not drawn in three years, his face a mask of granite silence that the villagers had...
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