Keeping the central Spire in sight, you order the troops down an adjacent avenue to avoid the growing infestation of bodies in the streets. Your chosen course brings you dangerously close to a great wall of fog, which rises up to your right. The murky, cloud-like surface is opaque and great tendrils of the fog twist and curl out from it in all directions, like the limbs of some immense beast. There is a dark presence which permeates everything here, one that somehow feels familiar.