PREVIEW
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At the edge of the wasteland, dust rose, and the sound of horns and thunderous hooves rang out simultaneously.
Fiery red or white fox tails danced on iron helmets, while deerskin gloves gripped riding bows, and white-feathered arrows in quivers bounced with the long wind and the hooves.
Over fifty agile light cavalrymen advanced in a fan formation.
Their mounts were shorter than the warhorses of the Thousand River Valley, but the colorful ribbons tied to their manes f ...
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