From the Archives of Arasunia
Recorded by Vestigo in Ephemeris from Beyond the Verge
~3710, During the Uniting of the Clans
This land is despair, manifest.
I have traveled east across the Great Waste, the fine red sand slowly giving way to a rough, grey shale that shrieks underfoot but refuses to shift in the constant headwind. It retains nothing of my footprints; the grit trembles into the divots and grooves until it appears to have not been disturbed for centuries. Indeed, it may be that long and more since a living being has trudged here. The air is dry and cold, slithering over my flesh and causing a negligible—albeit constant—nosebleed.
The jagged peaks of the Iron Mountains are visible in the distance, but the land between them and myself is shrouded. The reason for this is unclear to me, for the sun beats hard against my back and should throw my shadow like a spear before me. But there are no shadows here, only gloom, and I fear the land ahead is hidden to compel me to continue on, curious about what lies in the confluence of this grey earth and the towering slopes of the Iron Mountains.
I press on, despite my growing alarm.