In the far east lies a land of nothing but ash and smoke. The ground is riddled with holes that ceaselessly emits poisonous smoke. This place is called the deadlands.
In the deadlands, there is no blue sky. Clouds the colour of soot hang close to the ground, ready to release their tainted rain. It never rains in the deadlands. Ever.
Some say that the cursed place was the battlefield where the first king of the Nation fought the daemons with the aid of death. Others say that it was a land that was cursed by the old gods before their fall.
The truth is quite uncertain. In the deadlands, magick runs free in its purest form. The barrier between the ether and the material plain is almost non-existent. Spirits and entities can be seen easily in the deadlands.
It is said that people are living in that barren godforsaken land. How they survive, we do not know but they are out there. Over the years, many have tried to establish a connection with these people. Few came back sane. The ones who did only said one thing about the people, nothing more.
They called the people the masters of the old magick.
They said they were the soldiers of the chaos.
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A Warrior through and through
FantasyWhen Walter left his old life to begin a new one with the love of his life, he believed that there would be no need to use his god like powers ever again. He was wrong. Fifteen years later, his wife disappeared in battle, presumed dead by everyone...
