[ WP ] Magic is discovered and it 's channeled with music . Modern nations dissolve and new countries rise in their place divided by the preferred music . In the frozen north lie the Metal kingdoms . Far to the south are the countries of Soul etc .

The group of outcasts walked into town. In front led a girl with multi colored hair holding a mic. 
 
 The girls voice was high pitched, but sharp. `` Careful, I've never been so deep in the south. These are archaic lands.'' 
 
 A man with hair down to his waste and covering his eyes spoke up. His voice gruff and laconic. `` I do n't fear the savages of this land.'' He gestured to the 20 notches on his big iron guitar. 
 
 The party walked into the town, slowly looking all around. The streets were empty spare one man leaning against a wooden building. They walked up to a man wrapped all in linen cloth resting with a hat over his eyes. 
 
 `` Hello, I am from Populas. Could you help point us to a hotel, we are not from Countryside.'' 
 
 The man showed no sign responding. A overweight dark skinned adventurer from the group kicked the man with his joggers. The cowboy fell over, the hat no longer covering his eyes. His lips were dry and cracked, his cloths under the linen covered in circular red stains. The group stepped back startled by the corpse. As they turned to leave two men walked out of the shadows. One carried a bottle of whiskey and looked to be a scrawny drunk, but the other looked more mountain than man. He stood 6' 6'' and weighted 245. 
 
 His voice boomed with a slight Cajun accent. `` Follow''. He talked strangely polite for the way his muscles bulged threw his shirt threateningly. The group knew this was not a man they should give lip, so they followed. 
 
 `` Were are you talking us.'' The young girl asked the mountain, her voice somehow still peppy. 
 
 The drunk spoke up as he struggle to walk straight. `` To learn the cold hard facts of life you-'', he was cut off by a hiccup. 
 
 `` Could you at least give us your names?'' The girl asked, peppy as ever. 
 
 The drunk again stammered and slurred a response. `` Names Porter, this here is Little Bitty Big John.'' 
 
 The group looked the man over. John was anything but `` little bitty''. They walked into a wooden saloon. The group looked around in horror. Never have they seen so many outlaws, criminals, and ruffians all in one place. At the bar set four men who all turned around when they walked in. The groups hearts dropped when they saw the altar in the center of the room. Made bottle, cattle skulls, and guns sat I the false god of the ancients of Countryside, Hank Williams. 
 
 `` Welcome to Luckenbach travelers'' One of the men at the bar turned around, his hair split in two braided pony tails. 
 
 `` Its nice to meet you... I am a pop magician, we are allies with the Country wizards. My group only seeks safe passage.'' The pop singers peppy voice was no more. Now she only wanted to escape with her life. She knew how few people meet the highway men and lived. `` Now!'' She screamed. 
 
 Her voice rang out into her mic. The mindless music confused the cowboys and stunned them. In an instant the long haired man strummed his guitar and blew a hole clean through Little Johns chest, but like a big oak tree he just stood there and groaned, even death could not topple him. The darker man in the hoodie pulled out two glocks while spitting words like fire. The bullets shot out red hot piercing everything that stood in their way. Like that the group looked around at all the dead bodies. 
 
 `` To easy'', said the long haired man. `` I though they'd be a challenge. 
 
 As they stared to walk out of town they saw a lone man stood in their way. He wore a white sport coat and an pink carnation. He looked more like a Jazz Mage than a Country Savage. 
 
 `` Move aside or die'' Threatened the long haired man pointing his guitar. `` We have already killed the rest of you.'' 
 
 The man only smiled and begun singing. 
 
 **'' An old cowboy went out one dark and windy day'' ** 
 
 `` You!'' The girl shrieked, terrified. `` How can you be alive. You were dead in the streets, shot full of hole.'' 
 
 The mans smile only grew wider. 
 
 **'' Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way'' ** 
 
 What the group heard next scared them all to the bone. From the saloon they had just left they heard a joyful choirs. 
 
 **'' When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw'' ** 
 
 I heard of demonic bulls flooded the skies. The cows charged before they group could react. Each cow like a meteors striking the earth. Not even bones were left, only red gravel. The voices continued to sing. 
 
 **'' Plowin through the ragged skies and up a cloudy draw'' ** 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

