Wings Over Atreia: Killed by a Carebear

A bridge lay ahead, shrouded by mist, the scorched black ground of the path through Morheim crunching under the Sorcerer's pounding feet. He sprinted, red-brown robes swirling this way and that, the sound of his heavy breathing drowned out by the clink clash clatter of the Cleric running beside him in a suit of silvery chain armor. Voices behind them now, drawing closer, the sound of dozens of wings beat the air.

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