The cold river runs deep through the barren land, like a blue scar accross the valley. The nasty wind pushes a thick layer of fog towards you, masking the slippery stone mantle of the bridge. Water crashes in a tumultuous roar at the bottom of the cliff, carrying along pieces of dead wood and other, more unsavoury, materials. You merely have to pass the bridge. A bridge that claimed countless lives. Nothing more, nothing less.
Dimensions : 40x30 ; PPI : 100

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