>Nomads would cross entire wastelands for a glimpse of the Scarred Seers, those oracles whose flesh bore the wounds of their visions. The journey itself was perilous; sandstorms, raiders, the thirst - but the true danger lay not in the path, but in the prophecy. For the words of a Scarred Seer did not merely foretell fate; they unmade it, reshaping the lives of those fool enough to listen.