Dusk descended over the plains of Sunspire like a curtain of deep violet velvet. Across the four-mile plain separating the Golden Ridge from the white marble walls of the capital, the fifty thousand soldiers of the Grand Army of Liberation deployed in a magnificent, terrifying crescent of steel. Two thousand campfires burned with fierce, crackling intensity, casting dancing orange reflections against the polished black shields of the northern Vanguard and…
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