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He stood on the hilltop looking at the remnants of the battle, wondering what awaits him. Never could he imagine that centuries later he, the Great King of Galennewath, Golinor Setuweath, would become the Great Foe, the darkness of the night, the Lord of Fear, the Dark Lord Conngoth. There he stood until the moonlight began to shine upon his face, and then slowly walked to his tent. The wolves howled sadly, and the owls began their nightly hunt on mice.
- a fogotten excerpt from a lost book

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