PREVIEW
... ng low over the plain, a heavy fog of soot and blood. Where once an orcish tide surged like a wrathful storm, now lay twisted bodies...some charred black, others torn open like butchered cattle. The Baron of Frost stood tall amidst the wreckage, his silver-blue armor splattered with gore, the tip of his glaive humming with residual magic.
They had arrived just in time.
Hours earlier, Major Gresham’s battered force had stood on the edge of annihilation. The orcish offensive, led b ...
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