The Rout Of Dor Nassia and Other Stories — Emir Raz Funes

These great primordial creatures too old even for simple comprehension screamed in their final fading moments the ululation of their death throes oscillating across the ears of all those who ran like the young Denis Ardeyevich Hauntingly they creaked and heaved as they one by one succumbed to the raging fires It is a world gone mad A boy sits upon the imperial throne of Aravarnia juggling to the fiddle of an immortal sorcerer In his vision the Continent convulses Civil war rages in Khorat as brother kills brother across the snowy steppes Armies clash and shatter Hamlets and cities burn Pallid children starve within their charred skeletal wrecks Khorat bleeds The Aravarnians march forward fuelled by Imperial ambition Banners held aloft their well trained armies cross the Ekaterin into the war torn fray The Rebelling Duke Prestor Volunoff relents and retaliates His forces counter Aravarnia before the city of Dor Nassia They lose In a legendary fit of embers and smoke It is a spectacular victory Yet great moments are as dull as they get boring annoyingly heroic Unabashedly exaggerated and filled to its corpulent brim with hyperboles galore This is not the story of that great victory This is the story of what came after

These great primordial creatures too old even for simple comprehension screamed in their final fading moments the ululation of their death throes oscillating across the ears of all those who ran like the young Denis Ardeyevich Hauntingly they creaked and heaved as they one by one succumbed to the raging fires It is a world gone mad A boy sits upon the imperial throne of Aravarnia juggling to the fiddle of an immortal sorcerer In his vision the Continent convulses Civil war rages in Khorat as brother kills brother across the snowy steppes Armies clash and shatter Hamlets and cities burn Pallid children starve within their charred skeletal wrecks Khorat bleeds The Aravarnians march forward fuelled by Imperial ambition Banners held aloft their well trained armies cross the Ekaterin into the war torn fray The Rebelling Duke Prestor Volunoff relents and retaliates His forces counter Aravarnia before the city of Dor Nassia They lose In a legendary fit of embers and smoke It is a spectacular victory Yet great moments are as dull as they get boring annoyingly heroic Unabashedly exaggerated and filled to its corpulent brim with hyperboles galore This is not the story of that great victory This is the story of what came after

These great primordial creatures too old even for simple comprehension screamed in their final fading moments the ululation of their death throes oscillating across the ears of all those who ran like the young Denis Ardeyevich Hauntingly they creaked and heaved as they one by one succumbed to the raging fires It is a world gone mad A boy sits upon the imperial throne of Aravarnia juggling to the fiddle of an immortal sorcerer In his vision the Continent convulses Civil war rages in Khorat as brother kills brother across the snowy steppes Armies clash and shatter Hamlets and cities burn Pallid children starve within their charred skeletal wrecks Khorat bleeds The Aravarnians march forward fuelled by Imperial ambition Banners held aloft their well trained armies cross the Ekaterin into the war torn fray The Rebelling Duke Prestor Volunoff relents and retaliates His forces counter Aravarnia before the city of Dor Nassia They lose In a legendary fit of embers and smoke It is a spectacular victory Yet great moments are as dull as they get boring annoyingly heroic Unabashedly exaggerated and filled to its corpulent brim with hyperboles galore This is not the story of that great victory This is the story of what came after

These great primordial creatures too old even for simple comprehension screamed in their final fading moments the ululation of their death throes oscillating across the ears of all those who ran like the young Denis Ardeyevich Hauntingly they creaked and heaved as they one by one succumbed to the raging fires It is a world gone mad A boy sits upon the imperial throne of Aravarnia juggling to the fiddle of an immortal sorcerer In his vision the Continent convulses Civil war rages in Khorat as brother kills brother across the snowy steppes Armies clash and shatter Hamlets and cities burn Pallid children starve within their charred skeletal wrecks Khorat bleeds The Aravarnians march forward fuelled by Imperial ambition Banners held aloft their well trained armies cross the Ekaterin into the war torn fray The Rebelling Duke Prestor Volunoff relents and retaliates His forces counter Aravarnia before the city of Dor Nassia They lose In a legendary fit of embers and smoke It is a spectacular victory Yet great moments are as dull as they get boring annoyingly heroic Unabashedly exaggerated and filled to its corpulent brim with hyperboles galore This is not the story of that great victory This is the story of what came after