Hundreds lay dead and plaster the wet cobblestone of the haunted city

There are no streetlights but the full moon on this chilling

December's night.

Silence all around nothing but the cry of crows and the rumble of the

deads chariot ...The brave lie broken on the field of fate, where once

justice was sought...With pride our legions fought and with raging

anger, our armies clashed with the forces of light...



A grim sight, as bodies paint a dark picture unto the hillside...at last,

triumph at Armageddon...renewal is at hand...