Imma-tank

The desolation spread as far as any eye could see, or as far as anyone could see with the thick haze of blight gas and smoke swallowing every horizon. Brill was razed, no citizen and no building spared by the Alliance. Lordaeron Keep itself was awash with glowing green toxic mist that refused to lift, the whole city above and below now uninhabitable to both living and undead alike. Between here and there, the broken, smoldering remains of siege towers, glaive throwers, shredders and demolishers, and other machines of war littered the landscape with the myriad bodies of the fallen. Aranya had taken it all in before alighting on what was left

January 18th, Third War with the Burning Legion The evening was perfect in the “city of light.” Outland’s skies were clear and full stars, the weather was calm. A section of the Terrace of Light, between the sanctum of the sha’tar and Lower City, had been laid out with benches and tables, and decorated with poles that bore streamers and bows made of large purple ribbon. Gifts lay on one table, food on another. The benches were all lined up in rows, the guests seated for the ceremony about to commence. Vindicators, knights, and a handful of young trainees in the ways of the Light - just children - stood at the most d