The Wanderer

The Evernight has ended, but its talons scarred the land beneath gleaming stars. Tolossa is no shining kingdom, a warlord does not rule the unforgiving steppe and passive Quelton has not mastered its famous crafts. Before writing came to be, recording analogues of truths, tales were told throughout the ruined lands. One figure eclipsed the rest. From the wild steppes of Hykhune, to the arid desert of Sundassia, they whispered her name with deeds of greatness and destruction.



The Wanderer.



Blood-coloured hair, skin of burnt emerald. An Orc, an exiled Orc, a cursed Orc, bearing the axe of her peoples. Has she come to rival the Gods of Evernight? Or slay for pleasure? Mystery and intrigue follow her gigantic shadow, but one thing is absolute: where she treads, blood flows.
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