Swaginborn
The world is broken, like a clay pot shattered against a wall, waiting to be thrown away or maybe even repaired. The Sundering we called it, I remember every part of it. The ground broke, the skies turned red, fire reigned from the sky and the seas turned black. I was but a boy then, living in the high mountains. That was thirty years ago, I am older now, and the world is broken. I find myself wandering aimlessly down The Road Less Traveled, which is said to be cursed but that can lead you to the end of the world, where the All Maker resides. I don't truly believe it, but what else do I have left? Everything has been taken from me, everyone has abandoned me, maybe even the All Maker. Thus I tread this cursed path.