The Pale Banner
The damp stone of Blackwood Keep does not merely chill the skin; it seeps into the marrow, a slow, insidious theft of warmth that matches the rhythmic, supernatural thudding of your own heart. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a veteran of the Iron Guard, and you stand before the heavy oak doors of the inner sanctum with your back straight, though your hands, wrapped in leather gloves, tremble...
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