At the top of a rock formation stands a lonely and tired wizard with deteriorated robes, staring into the horizon he raises his staff with the last of his strength to call upon his enemies the wrath of the stars, by his chant a furious swarm of meteors surrounded by purple hints of electricity fall to the land to the despair of those who have wronged him and wanted to use the wizard's power for destruction, thus, so he does it, thus, so they are granted, delivering them the rightful violence they demanded from him, the falling stars burn down what was once a beautiful and flourishing land into a dread barren of blaze and cinders. view from behind, starry sky, red skies, bright stars, army of soldiers marching towards the wizard, destroyed siege machines
