

AnathemaBleeding. Crying. Dying.Anathema
Running. Falling. Screaming.
Once peaceable, the Elven glade of Kiriinoor stood burning from crusade. Children held close, mothers fled quickly into the nearby forests, begging for relief from their burns. Panic ensued as one after another home broke into ashes. Soldiers and makeshift warriors stood tall, holding their ground. One by one they fell, dying to protect the only life theyd ever known. Those of a magical calling pressed back as hard as they could, trying in vain to extinguish both lives and flame. Piece by piece, the passive village fell to its attackers. &n