Long before Tomas of Gabora sang in the capital, he would follow the traveling minstrels from village to village whenever they passed through the highlands.
Everything was as bright as the sunshine bouncing off the highland flowers, as crisp as the fresh air blowing through the leaves, and as carefree as the mountain folks in their rickety huts, who went about their businesses with happy whistles.
But everything changes the day the barbarians attacked…
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