Wötan: The Untold Story – Short Snippet

(…) Lying on the ground in pain, Wötan looked around. From where he was, all he could see were Frankish horsemen, wielding shields with the Frankish insignia. Wherever he looked, there they were. Demons. Four-legged ghosts, half-men, half-animal. Monsters from the North, bringing death and destruction to this land. To this people. HIS people. Wherever he looked, the bodies filled up the battlefield. His countrymen. His brothers. Blood of his blood. All because of him, because of his stupid pride.
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