No matter how prolonged the darkness, the dawn will eventually arrive.
Without the sun, without the twilight, the dawn of Silver Moon City seemed incredibly gloomy.
The sky was a mottled grey, as though snow was about to fall.
The atmospheric pressure was so low it made it hard to breathe, causing the restless Eastern warriors to seek something to vent their frustrations on.
Killing, without a doubt, was the best choice.
Silver Moon City had turned into a sea of blood and fire.
Shouts of slaughter and screams tangled into a horrific scene worthy of hell on earth.
However, the killing perpetrated by the Eastern warriors sparked the repressed anger in the hearts of the Half-Elf commoners who, armed with anything they could find, even items too rudimentary to be called weapons, began to resist the wicked invaders.
The fight at the Half-Elf Palace was the most gruesome.
The numerous crazed eastern warriors swarmed over the relatively short palace wall, killing as they went.
