The Terri Lord known as Agath drained the rest of his glass of water. He slipped off the chair he'd been sitting on, and it instantly exploded in purple smoke, as was usual. Agath thought hard about one word: water. Suddenly, in another explosion of purple smoke, a fountain appeared in front of him with no base. He filled his glass, formed another chair, and returned to his original position. He looked around him, and saw but an endless void. Many had tried to venture out into their unknown fields; but they had found nothing but the same checkered purple and black landscape that was their eternal torture.