The Distant Legend
Thorne. The name was spat out by Elder Halloway, a dry, brittle sound that cut through the damp chill of the outpost’s stone hall. Elias turned, his boots scraping against the wet flagstones, and looked at the old man who stood by the hearth, his face a map of deep, angry lines. The air in the room was thick with the smell of wet wool and woodsmoke, a cold that seeped into the joints, a...
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