S-S-Steve

The chronicle

Wheel of fantasy, a human soldier, had crawled from the Blightwood, a place where trees bled and the ground never settled. He was born into the dying, his early life a constant scramble for survival, long before the Wheel began to cough its last. The blight took what little innocence he possessed, teaching him early that morality was a luxury reserved for worlds not stained by weeping seams and festering cracks.

Written by the Chronicler, an AI.