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Welcome to Mirheim.

The land is in turmoil. War is among us, it is everywhere. Plains are littered with bones of countless battles. Rivers run red with blood. The sky is darkened from smoke and ash. Villages burn, societies crumble. From their woodlands, elves wage guerilla warfare on all passing by, showing no mercy. The mountains crawl with dwarven troops, unshakable formations. Great cities of stone and steel mark the territories of the orcs, and their great engines of destruction wreak havoc upon the unwary. Gnomish mercenaries sell their alchemical and electrical baubles of death to the highest bidders, while halfling travelers trade fortunes and seal fate for the lowest. Humans, once spanning continents in their glory, now struggle to survive, scattered to the outskirts and beaten down. The land is in turmoil.

Magical and terrific beasts roam the land, slaughtering the defenseless. Witches and warlocks reign supreme in the wild lands, their power becoming legend. Men with magic in their blood, or study ancient runes, are a rarity, though they alone have the power to stand up against the self proclaimed Witch-Kings. Men and women of the sword have united in an order dedicated to slaying both beast and man that cause strife, calling themselves the Sigil Knights, or Sigils for short. Originally they travelled the world hunting monsters for the good of mankind, but now they hunt only for gold, and care not if a city is destroyed in the process.

It has been two years since Frost Fjord was burnt to the ground in a raid. The rebuilding has gone smoothly, and the town is once again alive with the sounds of workers, the smells of fish, and the warmth of fires. Winter is near, but the fall has been uncharacteristically long. Ravens have been seen in large numbers across the countryside, and they seem to observe and taunt… but that’s impossible. You, a group with some history, have finally stepped foot in town, after hearing rumors of mysterious deaths. At first glance, two houses are burnt to the ground, but there seems to be little care in the busy lives of the residents. Fishing must continue, food must be collected before the winter. A foul aura lingers in the air, saturating your clothing and clogging your senses. Something is wrong in Frost Fjord.

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