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. Raising its
sword above its head, the creature charged, then stiff-
ened and gurgled as Wingover's blade slid between its
breastplate and its buckler.
Slowly, shaking his head to clear the mists, the man
got to his feet and pulled his sword free. Someone was
beside him, helping him. It was Jilian, her eyes wide and
excited. Wingover staggered, then stood. All around
was stench and carnage... and silence. Nothing
moved, and the only sound was an odd, distant singing
as of great winds building aloft.
The air felt still and heavy. Where is the sunlight, the
wilderness man wondered vaguely. Why is it so dark?
Feeling dizzy from shock, Wingover raised his head.
Heavy clouds were forming above - dense, swirling
clouds to the east, above the Plains of Dergoth; dark
ropes of cloud sweeping outward from the slopes of
Sky's End. Odd, he thought. Odd weather. But his
wounds put thoughts of the clouds aside. He was hurt, he
knew. But how hurt? Jilian tugged at him and pointed.
Beyond the bridge, someone was coming. Shadows
from the swirling clouds interefered, then Wingover saw
clearly. Kolanda Darkmoor. The Commander. Bare-
breasted, her woman's body contrasted strangely with
the hideous helmet and the weapons she carried
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