Its smoldering, soot-black sky had forgotten the sun and the stars. It was a grotesque, cancerous mechanism in the shape of a landscape. And it was in the throes of war. Like swarms of insects two armies battled among the land's geometric crags and hollows. The combat sparkled and flared with lights and fire.
Poisonous clouds spread like fog.
Soldiers clustered around twisted black machines, which flashed and pumped streams of angry lightning into enemy formations. Overhead, iron-keeled ships floated on the toxic wind. Their hulls were riveted with armor plates. Windmill sails pushed them slowly over the battlefield, where they showered the combatants with flame and poisoned missiles. They were faceless shapes in the choking, corrosive haze, their outlines distorted by ornate armor and mechanisms of defense and destruction.