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Fierce goblins rode these wolves, their curved scimitars, raining death, their fierce visage could freeze the heart, they moved with the giant spiders, death comes in so many ways. The battle on the right was terrible, blood did flow like a river, black, blue, green and red, what horror stalked Badicha. Already, the foot soldiers are charging into the trees, they now had the bloodthirst, it would be their greatest strength, run on, you soldiers of glories breath. through the trees with all your might, there seems to be no fear in their hearts, they are now berserker, they now face death without fear. The golden king and his knights, they charged up the left flank of the main foot, swords and spears striking death, the dragon banner of gold, held high aloft. There charge broke against the enemy, a terrible crash, wolves and arlaghs are falling, the sword and the spear striking home, the enemy taken by surprise. Chapter ..... 3 ..... Part .....4 The mother of the storm is in full flow, forward into the rear of the Arlaghs her chariot ran, her white hair streaming out behind her, the storm spear striking home. Her chariot running over broken bodies, her scream, that of the storm, battle fire alive within her eyes, Dark men following her into the fray. The battle storm was alive and boiling, this charge drove home, still the Arlaghs fighting on, some now turn to face the storm. Arlaghs, they never retreat, they make their stand, live or die, forward rode the Dark men after their mother, the battle now met with such ferocity. Then, such a heartfelt cry, one never heard in Alahsar before, it came from deep within a soul, the soul of the mother of the storm. Amidst the throng, she saw an arrow strike her son, she saw him fall to his knees, instinctively, she reined in her horses, the chariot came to a stop. To be continued ..........
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