The mountains sighed at the scene in front of them. The blood of the battle seeped down into their foundations and rocked them to the core. Nothing of this scale had been seen on these lands for over a millennium, and nothing like this would be seen for a millennium more. The plains before them were occupied only by once-living men, ghosts of their former selves; their empty bloodied shells lying broken and torn on the blood soaked grass. A war was breaking out, one on a scale so large, and one so powerful, it threatened to exterminate all men, innocent or not. The mountains, old and wise, yet vulnerable and weak, would act yet again only as watchers to the destruction that would again kill the world.