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ArtistWe all sit in the cell of orange sand while the horses try and knock the sand open without hope. The prince then sits on the cold damp floor and tells me and luitent megs the sand is solid tight and unable to move while the horses give up. Our army then listen while the sand creatures prepare a devils torture chamber for our tortured minds. A tired luitent megs cuddles my side while the horses wonder if the goddess and her king will save our defeated body's