The people of Castre had a problem in the form of a Meerdoran Warlord. The tyrant enslaved the fae, bending their magic to his will and forced the tiny fae to rid the world of anything less than him.
Blood littered the sandy ground. Aramoren clutched the sword tighter in his hands; facing off with the warlord in a battle that would long be unremembered by mortals. As Aramoren raised his weapon, the divine ruler of Castre had different plans for Aramoren.
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