The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 13:45:56 -

The Pale Mist

The Guild hall smelled of damp wool and old ink, a scent that had seeped into the pores of Elias Thorne’s skin over thirty years of service. He stood before the long oak table, his hands trembling slightly as he smoothed the edges of his proposal, the paper already soft with the humidity of the valley. Halloway sat at the head of the table, a man whose face was carved from the same rigid...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews