Wyzel, a young soldier for hire seems to finally met his end. Bullets flailing through the air piercing through our hero's chest. Wyzel quickly falling to the ground, his heart pumping slower whilst his life begins to fade. Quickly awoken at a ruined temple of moss and cut stone. Wyzel clearly knows he is not in earth anymore. roots spout from the crumbled dirt floor, thick vines scatter and climb amongst the eroding stone pillars.

Wyzel looks down glancing at a reflecting pool of water, looking at his own and new Identity in the reflection. Wyzel with hardly any self identity. His soul has indeed left his body, but what replaces that body is a cold ice blue lights sparkling and swirling like dust clouds. resembling a human with no hair, mouth, ears, nor eyes. Having no definitive features whatsoever.

Astonished Wyzel at having a figure with no personality or recollection, all Wyzel knows is that he or it was called to this place. Endless portals surround the old existential plane, opening like a unforgiving vortex of swirling clear liquid. Showing visions of vessels to be born. All opening to many places that are striving or suffering. Where will our fallen hero be called to travel first?

He who will gain many lives and being born within the worlds he touches. He is the wanderer of forgotten worlds.