The far east land of Zarkona

Far East across the boneyards, beyond the skeletons of giants and their forgotten superstructures, beyond the clicking of their alien machines and the darkness of the land as it stretches for miles uncountable, beyond where imperial maps are drawn, there lies a land recounted only in legend. A land of brown and red sand that spans as far as the eye can see, where the water flows pure and untainted by the blood of endless wars, and the beasts of the land live in hives of the millions under the earth. The men here have been told of in myth to be the greatest artificers of magical technologies the world has never seen, with guard dogs of servos and gears, ticking like clocks, they’ve fashioned ways to harvest nutrition and domestication from some of the bugs in hives beneath them. This land is rumored to lie untouched by the politics of the western world, as only the hardiest of adventurers and explorers have managed to bypass the wastes, tundras, and swamps of dark cursed land between, where dead things walk and necromancers plot, the magic in the very soil corrupts the hearts of men. Only the strongest of souls have ever made it from one side to the other, but no one ever said they made it home. Whispers rumor that brief contact with an explorer from this land is what ignited the spark of ingenuity in the empire’s Abbey of the Proletarian, and without it they would not have the anti-magics or steam boats they do now only so sparingly. Who can say for sure? the land is shrouded in mystery. It may be that none will ever see it in this age of strife which threatens to send the rest of the world into an even further darker age.