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Board Information & Statistics

Badlands

Just over the jagged wall, as far as the eye can see, scorched earth travels on forever. The air feels thinner this high up, so hot that a fatigued tribute might find themselves suddenly gasping for breath. In the sky, visible here more than anywhere else in the arena, the sun rages with the full force of its fury. When outside of the safety of the fragile haven known as Junk Town, it’s impossible not to face the harsh reality of the situation you’ve been forced into. Even if you choose to run, there’s nowhere to go. The sand is blistering hot, miles upon miles of it, scattered with gnarled trees growing no foliage. No water in sight. This place is a death zone, absent of all life except for the terrible sound of wings flapping in the air and claws raking against sand, echoing into the nothingness like a trick of the mind. Even beyond the war, and the terrible way it ended, these rebels were doomed from the very start. Like a memory bleeding into the present, you feel that same hopelessness, too.