Hunter of the Dead Plains

The Dead Plains are a basin of contradictions: salt-ruined dry mud that tastes of flint, side-by-side with eternal white sand that feels as cold as ice. It is a place of "e;strangeness,"e; where the west wind roils soul-draining dust, and the march of distant armies echoes like sand over stone. Yet, tucked behind a diaphanous Taether lies the hidden tribal lands—a realm of verdant green clover, co...