Whenever adventurers toast their success after a hard-fought victory, at their feet lies the spilled blood of the conquered. Sometimes heroes forget that their enemies had friends and allies of their own, and families, and mothers. You may call them evil, but there is a love stronger than death, and a thirst for vengeance like no other in the heart of a mother weeping over her monstrous brood. What you called heroism, they call horror; what you called...
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