The North is falling.

That’s what some say, at least. There are many and myriad reasons to say so, some more compelling than others. The shining silver and unyielding iron of the Paladin Pece has lost is lustre, they say:

There are monsters in the lakes and rivers, creeping through the hills and dales from the Bloodrise Mountains.

Shapeshifting lizardmen spy from the shadows. Demon cults perform dreadful rites in forsaken farmlands left barren by dragonfire.

Goblins beset caravans to the east, emboldened orcs expand to their north, and the Southmen have cut off trade and stage military drills along the lowest border of Civilization.

A weak-hearted woman sits upon the throne of Hawksong, greatest jewel of the North, with an absent husband and a mongrel heir.

The Archmage is dying.

Everyone has heard at least some of these rumors, seen some evidence that they are more than the tall tales of pessimistic drunkards…

But for some, chaos is opportunity. An age of instability is many things, but to an adventurer, it means two things above all else: glory, and gold!

…