All good things must come to an end, a war, a kingdom, a life, a friend. When hope is lost and none can be found, desperate defenders set for a final round.

Marching for war and glory and fame, never again will things feel the same. Two armies clash, one doomed to die, Nasty bloodshed, leaving a dark red sky.

A single carrion bird circle `round, still no life nor friend could be found. Now, only death remained on the plain. The blood of a foe will surely leave a stain.