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... guard has gathered in force - an army of twenty thousand, monsters and men alike, lined at the edge of the clearing where the undead led by Corpsie have made their stand.
The horde across the field is dead still, and the thirty thousand rotters are packed tight, shoulder to shoulder. A sea of death - soulless humans without will. Their groans are muffled by the sheer volume of their number. It's less a sound and more a pressure. An omen.
Barns breathes deep and hoists the Silver ...
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