A thick mist hangs across the battlefield, formed from the evaporation of the crimson soil. A scattering of fires kept the unpleasant stench at bay, but only just. In the distance you see a dark cloud form at the edge of the field, growing impossibly fast, the horrid sounds of gnawing, tearing, and slashing growing louder as the cloud sweeps over you. The bodies around you begin to decay as if months pass in seconds. A massive stag takes shape before you.. BEHOLD MORTAL, YOUR END.
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