The Plains of Beh-Amanok were once a broad agricultural region where farmers used giant beetles as draft animals to cultivate vast fields of legumes, their slow caravans marking the rhythm of seasonal work. That way of life has ended with the spread of Nurgle’s corruption, which did not twist the crops into grotesque shapes but instead drained them of strength and vitality. Plants wither early in the soil, their leaves pale and brittle, as if the land itself has forgotten how to sustain growth. Over time the plains have flattened into a dull, colorless expanse, where cracked earth and thin dust replace former fields. What remains is an infertile wasteland that still bears faint traces of its agricultural past, now smothered by quiet decay.
