Milamber's Rage - Raymond E. Feist
A shrill keening sound began, with Milamber at its source. The very air shuddered as mighty magic was forged "Wind!" Milamber cried. A bitter breeze reeking of carrion, foul and loathsome in its touch, blew through the stadium. A low moan of sorrow and fear was carried away by the wind. It blew stronger and, each moment it grew, carried more menace, more despair. It turned colder, until it was stinging to those who had rarely known cold. Men wept at its biting caress, and high above the stad.
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