The Outlands stand as twisting spires of stone and cracked earth under an emerald sky, warped by feral magic and scorched by searing sun. Emaciated creatures scurry through its gullies and across its plains, feeding off what meager tufts of grass they can find. At night the darkness comes to life, shadows churning from an ages old curse. Sin's Curse. A lone hunter stalks these plains. In his bones are memories of ages past. In his blood burns searing vengeance. His people cry out for revenge, for he is the last of their number. These are his lands, and he will claim his birthright.