In a time before the existence of the present, the gods decided to create a plane of existence where all their creations could exist in the same place. In it, all would be fair, and all gaps between races and technological advancements could be crossed with a single system that the gods had created. Every year, the gods would choose a new race to put in their land, and in this new group of beautifully unlucky people, Alen, his friends, and a few people from Earth have finally met their turn to be tossed into the playground of the gods.

Unfortunately though, Alen was thrust into a forest of corpse-eating bears and horribly smelly undead on his first day, one of the many danger-zones of the continent the gods had chosen to throw them in. It would be easy to say that he simply died within the first day, or that he'd starved to death or whatever, but let's be honest...

That story would be no fun to tell, yes?

(Re-write of my first fiction with the same name.)