The creatures of Mythrandel are no strangers to magic. The world breathes it. The creatures depend on it. They fight with it. It is the mere fabric of reality. When magic turns on them, they must regain control somehow. If that means defying gods and nature, so be it. Perhaps the gods aren't always right, anyway. And who is nature to tell the world it has gone too far? After all, this is only the beginning for Ocity.