Now every event that would mark the day and write the following in the blood of the brave claim the frame of what would become the future. Your story and find your destiny in my own words what they mean, be sure that your presence here is a continuation of this story. The souls of warriors who now lives you is only a consequence of the insidious manifestation of the shadow that caused all these evils. But I digress, let's continue this story if you do not mind, it is far from over.
So, both sides, the warriors left the serried ranks of their respective troops to get to the center of the plain. They had, my young friend, erase the shame of affronts individually and wash their honor by dueling rituals. The face-to-face lasted a long time, they stopped at sunset and resumed at sunrise. For each it was an eternity and every day during the ranks of these men fell.
The sixth morning, when nobody had to go to the plain, taking Grail fingertips Balor called to his father. In a booming voice, he shouted for us to hear it from one end to another of the plain of Moy Tura to Dagda:
"Father, if you want your pot, just get it! Gives me half of your territories! Then I'll kiss you then go back in Thule. "
The father of all the Tuatha De Danann replied simply:
" Grail returns to his family and you, my son you will be banned for eternity in a territory as vast as it will lose your vanity! Expect no sympathy from me or even those against whom you raise your army, the Creator alone decide our fate. "
The last word was the signal of the Dagda who saw the hedge Moytura countless fighters who poured, blending into a huge, macabre sarabande combining flesh, steel, screams, terror and tears. Thousand ferocious Fir Bolg were bent like rabid beasts and foaming with rage over valiant and brave warriors of Earth Elders. Nuada, the Dagda, and also Nemed illustrious heroes repelled wave after wave of attackers without ever showing of exhaustion. O My Son, as those glorious heroes were brave, imagine them, indefatigable, irrespective slaying everything that was not adorned with the red color of Morrigan ...
CIRB, Eoche Breas and threw themselves surrounded by their followers on the Tuatha De Danann and humans in the manner of scavengers on easy prey. But, Child, magic spells that filled the arms of the son of Dagda made them decimate a hundred times more enemies than any of the heroes of the army Darkover.
The floor of Moy Tura veered quickly into a crimson carpet and muddy contrasting with the surrounding greenery and the bright freshness of the grass which grows normally.
you hear even the deafening roar of thunder and weapons meeting the armor? That of metal ripping flesh and the cries of rage and pain infamous sucking feet tearing the ground bathed in blood ... Imagine all his feelings, let them go back and screw you too this terrible nightmare.
Yes My Son, the curses launched by the warlords echoing in your ears, the groans of the wounded hardly mitigated by carnynx and the roar of the drums are beating your heart give you faster and nausea. Learn what fear in my eyes and observed the bodies pile up in the funeral mounds on the plains of Moy Tura. Imbue yourself with this horror, contemplates the heads and limbs all positioned in the offensive attitudes, completely dismantles. See what can be achieved and the shade begins to hate what you have to fight.
Slowly come back to me, let the calm of the Chimera caressing his infinite sweetness, it's over ... Now I can go, forgive the brutality of these images were necessary, they are part of what you have to learn.
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