The Pale Banner
The letter lay on the oak desk, the wax seal broken, the ink still wet with the authority of the High Inquisitor. It was a summons, written in a hand so precise it looked carved, ordering Captain Thomas Bradshaw to report to the Black Chapel at dawn. I read it twice, tracing the lines with a finger that felt strangely cold, and then I looked at the inventory list pinned beside it: one sword,...
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