Early the next morning.
The morning sun leaped out from the distant horizon, and its golden glow enveloped the entire Great Wasteland, casting a golden hue over the camp.
The cold wind howled in the Great Wasteland as winter approached. The allied camp which had been quiet throughout the night, bustled with activity again. Smoke rose from cooking fires, and within an hour, the roar of the War Horses resonated from the Great Camp, their rumbling vitality driving away the chill of the morning.
On top of an ancient mountain ten miles away, a green shadow blinked open his eyes, gasping out a breath of stale air. Twin beams of resolve shot from his eyes, reaching the distant tide of ironclad cavalry.
