The world lies in ruin. What once where great cities are now great piles of derbris, both over and underneath the surface. Deserts have expanded, once green plains are now withering dry terrain. Whole forests have given space for an ever black field of ashes remembering of what once grew here. Rivers are dry and the water in the lakes is salty or otherwise undrinkable. Overall resources, at least those of essence of the common living species, are scarece, and so as well the same species that live of them.
Santient beings are even rarer. What once was civilisation as they knew it, dwarves, elves, humans and all the others not needed to mention, well as them selves they do no longer exist. There is no we for a special race, there is no dwarven mine, no elven forest or human town. There are no nations, no countries, no empires, no kingdoms.
In this desolated world exists the small settlement of Conflict, a town thorn by two groups, the White and the Black that fight over power and domination of the town and of the few resources they have, as well as for the simple sport of it.
It is here that this story takes place, when a group of outsiders of this town arrive.