SIR_NoNChalant

He hasn't had the best life, in fact, some would argue that his life couldn't have been worse, but there's still hope, even for a nihilist. As when an expedition to colonize the moon quickly turns into a disaster, he is swallowed whole by an anomaly and spat out somewhere completely different.
Here one can conjure flames with words and summon thunderclouds with a shout, but it's not all fantasia and ecstasy. The world seemed peaceful enough, but as he learns more and more. He realizes everything he sees is a facade, and what's truly underneath is a civilization built on blood and war. In fact, the whole world is in a state of war. 
Then to top it all off, solidifying that he has truly jumped out of the frying pan and into the furnace, Ragnarök is fast approaching, and there's no certainty that he'll survive, that anyone will survive.

EFFORIA WORLD AT WAR

In time the door opened and he was back with a fresh pair of clothes for me. He sat them on the table and left, I wasn't going to get naked after all. As I put on each piece of clothing I thought about there makers, they were most likely apart of "The twelve", not that I knew who they were, I only knew they were important.


The craftsmanship was top tier, comfortable, stylish, effective, and most of all, deadly. As I put the shoes on I lifted my heel and brought it down in one quick motion. The blade sprung out, fast precise, doing it again, it retracted, the chain pulling across the wooden floors.


I started to think, did I even deserve the clothes I wore, I knew the answer, even if I didn't wasn't to admit it. It was stupid, I was stupid, conceited too. I had my fun, it was time to leave and experience the world without a golden spoon, it wasn't anything new after all. I had to figure out what I'd do. how I'd get away.


No One