Our hero awakens, in an inn whose name is of no consequence and whose patrons seem to stand stiller than air. After paying his piece of gold he walks outside to find that the sky is red perhaps a fire somewhere, or a god come home, as gods do.
Savir finds himself in Endlebluff a land that knows not the word peace, a rugged landscape with forests whose split trees grow blacker than the beasts that inhabit them. The face of Endlebluff is scarred with the chaos of war, The demons that dwell behind the cover of life have yet to go thirsty as the blood of this land is seemingly everflowing.
It is here were the 500 year war was waged. It is here where the cleric Bramin Smote the Demon Karesh. It was in this land were the champion Endolinth forged his bloody path to glory beyond that which any mortal man could hope to see in a span of lifetimes. Armies have risen and fallen at the whim of the three nowdormant god-dragons whom forged their homes deep in the dark ridges of Kaharas far to the east. It was Endlebluff where the barbarian pirate clan of Traln the Goblin king conquered what was left of yollandra’s folllowers. And it is in Endlebluff where our hero Savir will submit himself to the boundless tests of will and strength that the land and its people have to offer.