A Prison Without Walls
The World is Dead
Long have I walked the Burn in hopes that land will be green and vibrant as the time before. The time when man worked together, helping one another. The time before the great beasts hunted the few man that remained. The time when man did not feast on his own flesh. The time before the Pox Eclipse. The time before the world burned.
Long have I walked the Burn seeking an end to the dust blown plains. Where the trees struggle to survive and the animals must be as hard as the land they inhabit. Where water is scarce and guarded. Where one can find no welcome. Where the wraiths rule the night and grod rule the day.
Long have I walked the Burn dreaming of the end to man’s suffering. I have seen it in my sleep. I have smelt it on the winds. The rains come more frequent, but I fear I may die in my prison before I see.
— Book of Ezeria