The countries of the Midlands had been locked in battle since time immemorial. The kingdoms of Avlabar, Delari, Talvar, and Firgard were once a huge empire, spanning across all of the Midlands. Now, however, they were warring factions competing for resources, labor, wealth, and power.
The last Great War had just finished. The field was littered with the bodies of the slain, and the only sound was the caw of crows and vultures as they fed on the flesh of the dead. In the midst of it all, a single soldier, impaled through the middle with a large spear, crawled through the guts and blood of his comrades, leaving a trail of his own to mix with the mud and blood. Would anyone help him? There didn't seem to be a mortal soul in sight...
The last Great War had just finished. The field was littered with the bodies of the slain, and the only sound was the caw of crows and vultures as they fed on the flesh of the dead. In the midst of it all, a single soldier, impaled through the middle with a large spear, crawled through the guts and blood of his comrades, leaving a trail of his own to mix with the mud and blood. Would anyone help him? There didn't seem to be a mortal soul in sight...