From a low hillock in a vast plain, the entrance to the Noil Ruins is as unobtrusive as it is a gateway to wonder…
The Pelezians, or “clay people” were strongly bound to the earth. In fertile plains and valleys they lived their happy existence, peaceful, yet ever on their guard. Many nomadic attackers they defeated, until a different enemy came; their advanced technology and weapons (and magic) were beyond the skills of defenders. One-by-one their settlements fell, until the clay people were not more.
To the greedy students of the past, their heritage is but not forgotten.
A world where there is a finite amount of magic present in the world, and it's almost used up. With the winds of magic being weak and unstable, how will nations built on the heavy use of magic survive?