The calm, rolling hills of the Outer Frontier lay vast and desolate, plants and weeds growing wild, unkempt, and uncared for. The fields were silent under the intense heat: not even the occasional cicada cry or buzz of insects, or chirping of birds like one might hear on such a beautiful day.

The only noise heard that day was a figure moving through the grass, plants wilting as he stepped through them, leaving behind a trail of blackened sage in their wake. Black tendrils of miasmic magic snaked up from the fallen plants, like oil spilling upwards.

As he neared the top of a rather steep hill, his pace slowed to a stop, a gentle breeze ruffling the dark hair that fell over the left side of his face. He scanned the surroundings, before locking onto a structure far off in the distance, his body adjusting to position himself towards it. 

Raising his arms, he cradled the structure—a large, looming castle with bright, white walls and rich, scarlet roofing—before pretending to crush it in his hands.

A mask affixed to the bottom half of his face caused his voice to reverberate, as he whispered a small promise… and a threat.

“I’m coming for you.”