The Pale Altar

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2026-08-23 08:45:17 -

The Pale Altar

The year was 1348, and the autumn air in the hall of Blackwood Manor tasted of iron and rot, a metallic tang that Sir Aldric could feel coating the back of his throat before he even drew a breath. He stood in the center of the empty room, his body fused so completely with the rusted plate of his ancestral armor that the distinction between flesh and metal had long since blurred into a single,...

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