The dense fog is gradually dissipating, yet it still envelops the entire Eastern Plains.
The radiance of the giant sun becomes pale and dim in the mist, and one town after another loses connection amidst eerie whispers. On city streets and rural fields, twisted humanoid creatures stagger through the thin mist, as if a nightmare has descended upon the mortal world, spreading across the tainted land.
The fortress of Sorinburg is finally shrouded in this boundless fog.
Erratic winds sweep wildly over the city, causing all the flags to flap noisily in the air. Increasingly bad news is coming from all directions—not just this city, but across the vast lands beyond it, all order is rapidly breaking down.
