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Lyrane ab Saldana ul Hellene, sister of the Matriarch, Captain of the Eastern Marches, was worried. Reports of loud noises and strange lights in the sky had rushed her here with a detachment of her warriors.
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She peered over the ridge. Below lay a giant winged machine with strange metal figures moving awkwardly about it.
She knew the ancient writings from when her ancestors had come to this world long ago. She knew their warnings of invaders from the sky.
They must be driven off or her people would be exterminated or enslaved and their lands taken.
She turned to Alyssa. “So, they have found our world at last. I don’t know if we can defeat these invaders, but we must try. Take your archers forward to the edge of the bushes.”