Echoes of the Purge

IN THE WAKE OF RUIN, WREN WALKS ALONE,
SCARRED BY GRIEF AND STALKED BY SOMETHING OLDER THAN FATE.

THE REALMS ARE DYING. THREAD BY THREAD, REALITY UNRAVELS, DEVOURED BY HOLLOWED ONES, TWISTED ASCENDANTS OF HUNGER AND SILENCE.

CHOSEN BY THE ASCENDED, WREN NOW CARRIES VEYDRIN, AN AETHERION-FORGED BLADE THAT REMEMBERS TOO MUCH.

HE IS NOT THE ONLY ONE MARKED. SAGE, BORN UNDER A CURSE OF IMPOSSIBLE LUCK, BURNS TO SAVE A LAND THAT WANTS HER DEAD.

FLINT, A BROKEN GUNMAN WITH GHOSTS IN HIS BLOOD AND WHISKEY ON HIS BREATH, KEEPS A WHISPERING PISTOL AT HIS SIDE.

WILDER, DAZZLING, UNHINGED AND FAR MORE DANGEROUS THAN EVEN HE UNDERSTANDS, TURNS EVERY BATTLE INTO A GAMBLE.

TOGETHER, THEY WALK A WAR THAT CANNOT BE WON. REALMS FALL. BONDS BREAK. EVERY STEP FORWARD COSTS MORE THAN THE LAST. THE ASCENDED GAVE THEM WEAPONS. THEY NEVER GAVE THEM MERCY.