The Pale Path
The letter lay on the stone table, its ink faded to the color of dried blood, the seal of the Order of the Pale Cross cracked down the center. Aldric read it twice, the parchment trembling in hands that had once held a longsword with the ease of a plow handle, now stiff with the palsy of fifty-two years. The text was simple, a bureaucratic cruelty dressed in Latin: *By order of the Grand...
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