The Pale Exile
You are not to speak of the ledger again, Elias. The Guildmaster’s voice was a flat stone dropped into a deep well, the sound of it settling before the echo could return. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the Guild Hall, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the cold of the flagstones seep through the soles of his boots. He had come to correct an error, a simple misallocation of three...
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