PREVIEW
... ed column, winding their way through the war-torn plains of the Orcish Lands. What little warmth the morning offered was devoured by wind, a biting, whispering gale that seemed to carry voices from the dead field behind them.
The Baron of Frost rode at the head, his griffon moving through the plains like a lion through tall grass. Its feathers were matted with dried blood. Its beak clicked idly, impatient, as though longing for another hunt. Behind him trudged the wounded and weary, armo ...
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