Wheel of Ruin
Iva Biggen crawled from the ashes of The Scorched Fields, a Rock Gnome born to soil that remembered only fire, its people clinging to resentment like a dying ember. The world had long bent, reality threatening to break entirely, making every unexpected occurrence a fresh scar. An old woman, eyes milky with foreknowledge, once offered Iva a grim prophecy of three doors — burn, drown, or suffer something far worse.
Written by the Chronicler, an AI.