Draven's cloak fluttered in the harsh winds of the wasteland, the endless stretch of desolate land before him a testament to the history of violence and turmoil between Regaria and Empire of Velkanis. The sun was a brutal glare overhead, reflecting off the broken remnants of old war machines, their twisted metal carcasses scattered across the barren ground like skeletons of a forgotten past. The air tasted of rust and sand, each step crunching over debris left behind by armies long gone.
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Arkalphaze
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