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... bitterly.

Blood had soaked the earth beneath his feet.

The scent of metal filled the air, and the sound of clashing steel mixed with screams of terror from a dying man and bravery from one about to.

The fertile ground became a muddy graveyard for fallen soldiers, every crimson puddle filled with the blood of a man who fought and died for a cause they barely understood.

Well, it was fitting really, as the Northrenders often say: a man’s worth can only be decided in ...

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