Town

The crimson sun beat down mercilessly as Atticus followed the Scavenger across the desolate wasteland. The creature, a pitiful excuse for a demon, scurried nervously ahead, its bony frame casting a skeletal shadow on the dusty ground.

Atticus couldn't shake off a gnawing unease despite the meager information gleaned from their rudimentary telepathic exchange. The Scavenger's fear of Xar'Gath was palpable, painting a chilling picture of the demon lord who ruled this desolate domain. But the revelation of a potential rebellion sparked a flicker of hope within him.

They crested a low rise, and the landscape shifted. In the distance, nestled amidst the jagged rocks, a sight both surprising and unsettling – a small town. Smoke curled from chimneys, casting wisps of grey into the crimson sky. Figures, a mix of humanoid and monstrous, moved about the rough-hewn buildings, a semblance of ordinary life in this bizarre realm.

Atticus's gaze darted from figure to figure. Some were cle
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