2016 09 23

Fri Sep 23 2076

Salem aka Malek'thas, Tir Taingire. Early Dawn. A jet fighter strafes the low buildings just outside the city's downtown core. Elven businessmen and women look up as it buzzes low, sound waves crack against the glass windows. It dips low, strafing gas along a boulevard west-bound. It picks up speed, twists, and buzzes low to avoid radar. Gone in an instant.

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