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Level 18 Journeyman Hunter
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Inferno consumed the battlefield,
black smoke choked the crops and
the red tongue of battle grew ever outward.


The air bristled with the cries of the lost.


Sand drifts along sunbeams that streak through the low-lying tent;
it ebbs with every breath and movement
of the people beneath the tarnished canvas,
glinting as it catches new sunlight.
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