Hidden Village (6)
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to the ground, nothing more than black, smoking planks of wood. Those left standing were crippled by large smoking holes in ceilings and walls. In the far distance, at the end of the road were what was left of the villager’s crops. More black than green and yellow. Still smoldering. Worse than the char and the smoke were the crimson stains splashed in the dirt and on still-standing doorways. Pools of it leached into the earth. The owners of the blood pools had been removed from the road, but the stench of dead flesh proved their resting place was not far off, behind the houses or behind closed doors.

            There were no screams of terror, though surely the air had rung with them in the night. Now there were cries of anguish and wails of lament...

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