David stepped through the shimmering portal of the dungeon gate, and the familiar weight of the Deadlands hit him instantly. The air was thick, oppressive, and as he took his first step, the eerie silence of the environment around him amplified the unsettling feeling in his chest. Night had fallen here, and the dim glow from the dungeon gate behind him quickly dissipated, leaving him shrouded in darkness.
Ahead of him stretched a surreal landscape. The once still, crimson river cut through the thick mist, its eerie red waters reflecting what little moonlight could penetrate the dense fog hanging in the air.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!