The Pale Circus

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2026-08-23 17:37:44 -

The Pale Circus

The chisel in your hand is cold, its iron edge biting into the damp stone of the altar, and the sound it makes is a dull, rhythmic thud that matches the hammering of your own pulse. You are Elias, an inquisitor for the Crown, and it is the winter of 1342, with the frost already blackening the leaves on the bare oaks outside the Weeping Chapel. Your task is simple, or so the Bishop believes:...

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