The Claimant’s Shadow
The air reeked of iron and damp earth as Elara hauled the pickaxe into the quartz vein, her hands raw from the grip. The mine’s mouth yawned behind her, a jagged wound in the hillside, while the sun beat down…
mine
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The Unseen Veil
The air reeked of brine and coal smoke as Clara stepped off the creaking gangplank, her boots sinking into the muck of San Francisco’s docks. The year was 1849, and the city was a fever dream of tents and timber,…
Dustspire’s Shadow
The air in Dustspire stank of pine resin and sweat, a thick miasma that clung to Elara’s throat as she stepped off the wagon. Her boots crunched over gravel, each step echoing against the skeletal remains of tents and wagons,…