In the setting sun, the Conjurors knelt downin the catacombs, focusing their Mugicalenergies on a single point. The harmony oftheir chant and the intricate patterns ofindigo blue that adorned the room paled in theswirling nexus of the Warbeast. Those who felta blast wave across the desert, knew its nature;this was the ill omen mentioned in legends of yore -this was the night of the Warbeasts heeded by…
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