“The deluge of arrows lasted for hours. Warriors from both sides flailed about wildly, struggling to comprehend what was happening and how to find safety from it. Legs, torsos, arms, and even faces were pieced through in splatters of gore and water. The shrubs of the Withering Plains were coated in blood, their leaves drooping downward from the newly gained weight.
The armies both routed, barely more than a handful surviving from each side. Those who were able to walk away found shelter under rare trees or in holes and trenches dug deep for fortification. When the terrifying patter of rain finally ended, the lucky souls remaining began dragging their wounded bodies towards their respective homes. The journey was perhaps the worse than the battle as thousands of maimed soldiers screamed and moaned, some pleading for help and others begging for death.
Neither house ever recovered from the massacre of their armies. House Eratu descended into civil war, splitting into countless small factions that never achieved relevance. House Dormian attempted to regroup, but the once insignificant barbarians struck while they were still too weak to fend them off. The news of the divine slaughter reached every corner of the land, and in each kingdom the Fortnight of Devotion was extended to a full month, as no man ever dared to evoke the wrath of the Gods again.” - M.D. Walter
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