The Faded Alibi
The rain had been falling on Blackwood Fort for three days, a steady, grey sheet that turned the stone walls into a weeping skin. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the main hall, his boots soaked through, the dampness seeping into his bones with a cold that no fire could chase away. He was forty-two, a man carved from the same granite as the keep itself, and he had twenty years of...
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