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In
an age of legends, where the war between good and evil scarred the skies
creating a seemingly perpetual and livid storm, chaos' first son stood looking
down on the developments of what was a bitter cold day somewhere in the
shadowy Beltane mountain regions. His journey had been long, yet the end
still uncertain. Chilling whispers of his name had spread throughout the
world, instilling a new fear in people…prophesising the end of the
current age, and a birth of the indefinite.
Emerging from the shadows,
he bore a look of cold fury…seemingly draconian in form yet he bore
an aged look, as his red eyes glimmered violently with the lightning.
As he advanced down the mountain towards the warring light and dark, a
figure emerged behind him, an aged dwarf bearing a similar look of vehemence.
The lightning intensified on the ravaged battlefield, and what was seconds
before a violent exposition of bloodshed, was sheer stillness, as both
armies stood frozen as the dragon-like figure emerged. |
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