1087 War Masters

The pallid centipede was slithering across a desolate landscape, followed by an army of abominable bone creatures. Its massive body tore forward, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The ground was pierced and upturned by its thousand sharp legs, the ancient boulders shattered, the brooks of clear water spoiled with and turned into streams of poison.

Soon, a wide river appeared in the distance. The ghastly tyrant did not slow down, continuing its ruinous advance. Then, however…

The monstrous centipede slowed down.

Its appalling head swiveled, rising into the air. Its harrowing maw opened. The branches of the dead trees that served as the creature's horns swayed lightly in the wind.

The wind had brought with it a strange sound.

The distant weeping of a flute.