In the time of Magic, there was a marvelous land far across the great sea. Some say this land had survived many previous cycles of magic, and had remained untouched as the great empires of the world waxed, shone and waned.

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This land was known as Newsland, and the dreams of one day being wealthy or magically powerful enough to be judged worthy of living there were the aspiration of many empires. For here, the land was clean, for magic created things without waste. The people were happy, for unlimited things meant that no-one had to search for them. Food was everywhere, and clothing was warm and soft, made from the purest form of magic from the depths of the Amazon.

Here, all who lived were wealthy, for those who were without wealth were not to be seen. They sat patiently, as retainers to those who were adept in magic. Their loyalty was constant, for who would provide for them if not the masters? They thought themselves free as the chains they forged from magic drew tighter and tighter about themselves. Some grew so enormous that they could not walk, and so were ferried about upon chariots powered by magic.

But magic always has a price, which those in Newsland were not willing to see. Their abundance led to famine elsewhere and the hungry saw an island for the taking. And so Newsland began to strike against those that approached their shores to beg. The great conveyances that tapped the very blood of the earth to bring visitors grew less frequent, and eventually they were refused entirely. The boats that approached the land were sunk by golems, creatures of metal and the blood of the earth, turned to evil purpose.

And so they sat, as the world burned, and the waning of knowledge continued, convinced that their magic would protect them. They sought endlessly for the great spell that would turn all of the Earth into Newsland, while the waste was to travel to the heavens, where it would be gratefully accepted by those they anticipated to meet, Angels and Demons alike.

It has been many years since anyone sailed to Newsland. Ships still mark the point at which vessels used to disappear when approaching. Perhaps the great magicians still live, waiting for their time to rise. Perhaps they are all dead, slain by the retainers they thought loyal, and the disappearance of ships is merely the last works of the Genies and Golems they long ago summoned.