The Pale Altar

adicionou um novo artigo Literature

2026-08-22 17:01:21 -

The Pale Altar

The banquet hall of the Oakhaven Exchange smelled of roasted goose and stale tobacco, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the wool of Sheriff Elias Thorne’s coat. He sat at the head of the long table, his hands resting flat on the mahogany, feeling the vibration of the town’s laughter through the wood. It was the night of the Founders’ Day celebration, a ritual of prosperity that felt like a...

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