Fleabag

In the deepest reaches of the Bone Pits, a canine seemingly like any other woke up in the ruined remains of a wooden box. With knowledge it shouldn't have, fleeting memories it couldn't reach, and the icy grasp of death crawling up its spine with every labored breath, it simply wished to live another day. Yet, in the bowels of a city built on metal corpses, nothing was ever simple. Gangs, religious groups, loose collectives, Dungeon Barons, highborn and cultists alike all battle for supremacy in the industrial underbelly of Carmera, blind to what prowls below. For in the writhing clouds of smog none peer into, in the murky, frothing depths of the sumps that none approach, in the deepest ...