Ashes: Of War [v1.0]

Instantly, the oil sizzled. A faint, ethereal glow emanated from the rust, casting a sickly blue light across Silas’s gaunt face. This was the residual echo of the magic that had ended the war. The world was dead, but the weapons still hungered.

Bram grunted, leaning heavily on a walking axe that had long since lost its edge. "Scraps won't buy us bread in the Lowlands. Assuming the Lowlands haven't burned just as bright as the Ridge." Ashes of War [v1.0]

They called it the Ashing. It had been seven years since the Great Compact was shattered, and the skies had never truly cleared. Instantly, the oil sizzled

"Enough to carry the memory," Silas replied, his voice barely louder than the whistling wind. "And that is all we have left." The world was dead, but the weapons still hungered

Silas looked back at the small, shivering cluster of campfires tucked into the ruins of a collapsed watchtower. A handful of hollow-eyed refugees and three wounded soldiers were all that remained of a proud garrison.