The Pale Tale

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2026-08-22 18:08:24 -

The Pale Tale

The fog in Oakhaven did not rise from the harbor; it seemed to exude from the cobblestones themselves, a thick, gray miasma that tasted of salt and old iron. Elias Thorne pulled his collar up against the chill, his left hand tucked deep into his coat pocket, though the cold that gnawed at his fingers had nothing to do with the weather. He was thirty-two years old, a clerk of modest means and...

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