The Pale Shadows
Act I Hamish MacAskill was forty-two years old and owed the Crown three thousand pounds in back rent, a fact that weighed heavier on his chest than the mist ever could. I wanted to retire before my next physical, to secure the pension that was the only thing standing between me and the cold, but my lungs had begun to bleed during a routine patrol in the highlands. The blood was rust-colored,...
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