'Day 54 - Another week goes by and the vile horde broke again on the wall of our scuta today like the fierce tidal waves break on the rocks of Anurao Bay, the place of my birth. Most of the day after dawn devolved into a cruel dance in the mud and gore - one of pushing and pulling and stabbing at the rhythm dictated by the roar of our foes and the bone whistle of our centurion. Yet nobody complains; no true legionnaire would. The green-skinned bastards have to be stopped here. For our families. For our Empire. For the Emperor, too, though I would rather pray to Old Hand Marcus than to the distant, slumbering God-King in our capital that I've never seen. But best keep that to myself, else the Priests of Sergorod find some punishment for me. They would sure love to. Perhaps there will be a night attack, too, at least that's what the talk is around camp now. If so, and considering the losses of the 3rd and 7th cohors in the last few days, I am not sure I will ever see the capital...'

'Ever been to Salum, mate? Mighty odd place I tell ya. Them Ratharnak mooks claim to have struck gold with the salt but the operation looks pretty shitty if ye ask me. Perhaps they literally struck gold instead, eh?'

- The musings of the vagabond called Shakub over an ale, shortly before his disappearance

'That thing hunted them. Relentlessly. Worse than any predator they had seen before, it hounded their steps through the forest called Smuggler's Cloak by the commoners. Yet no cloak proved to be enough to hide them from those horrible reptilian eyes. The creature was clever, too. It did not attack them but tracked them from a distance, waited until they were exhausted, harried, and desperate. And then it took them, one by one. The last wretched fellow gave himself up to the first patrol he stumbled across; better break rocks in prison for the rest of his life than fall prey to a Krawag.'

'As the morning drew on beneath the piercing gaze of the merciless sun, Levitius saw the soldiers of the 19th slowly gaining a foothold on the south bank in a fierce melee. Covered in blood and dust, the legionnaires looked more like a gored sand wyrm, writhing madly as it got stranded on solid rock. Then something passed before the sun. He heard one of his evocati shout 'Dragonguuuuuuuard!' before the mighty drakes with the elite warriors of the enemy on their backs started their first swoop and at last Levitius knew the number of his days.'

The images above are from one of the starting regions of the main game, shedding some light on parts of the huge campaign map the player can traverse in Vagrus.

We can already hear you ask: 'But guys... why don't you show off the whole map?'

This environment artwork displays one of the many arid hill regions of the Empire, be it the Border Region between the Ashlands and the Jagged Waste, the Windbelt, known for protecting the plains of Hargad Tuul from the constant gale coming from the north, or the Hills of Plenty, nestled snugly beneath the highland that forms the majority of the Dragonlands, guarded and patrolled by mighty Dragonguard forces.

Hargad Tuul (an old name meaning 'The Hollow Plain') is our next location artwork reveal that is found post-Prologue. With its fog, overcast sky, solitary gnarly trees, and greenery the area is a far cry from the usual arid wastelands and rocky deserts of the rest of the continent. The art captures its melancholy dampness and bleakness perfectly.

After the Dragon Lords arrived and descended upon the broken continent in the wake of the Calamity, they settled down in the middle of the landmass and cast their ancient magic on an area large enough to comfortably sustain their nests and broods. The magical energies crushed the plains and physically elevated the region, molding it into spacious highlands and great mountain ranges, as well as carrying up earth and ore from deeper below, thereby banishing the fallout of the Calamity, making this land fertile once again. Thus, the Dragonlands were born.