It's Impenetrable...

We cannot get out! Some dark twisted magic has perverted the Earth Mother and turned her against her children. At all the far-flung corners of First Light, the thorns and thistles and brambles have sprung up with such ferocity, they are thick and dense as any barrier wrought by builder or mason. We tried everything—from axes and fire to prayers for forgiveness—but nothing, <i>nothing</i>, will make the wall of thorns give way. Poor Brandon even tried scaling the damn thing. He got less than half way before his grip failed him, and he crashed back to the earth, hands bloody and teeming with vermin and poison. He died not long later, screaming and feverish. He still hasn’t returned, so I can only assume that some other doom has already found him. Whatever his fate, he’s trapped here with the rest of us, poor bastard, perhaps for what’s left of eternity. As for me? I’m going back home. If I’m going to die, at least it’ll be defending my own hearth. Not out here on the road like a tramp or a vagabond.