22 Mar 2019 - 19:00 - 24 Mar 2019 - 14:00
Winter, always a dark and difficult time for the common folk of the lands. A time to huddle round the hearth and home, trying to keep warm, to eke out a living, surviving on what stores you have put aside through the months of plenty. A time when the more unscrupulous merchants will gouge people for even the basics required to live.
This year though, is the worse since the time when the Walkers – Death, War, Pestilence and Famine stalked the lands. The dark months set in early and hard, what stores people had set aside at the start seem enough, but in the coming weeks they become infested with vermin and mold, what little is salvaged tastes wrong A feeling of desolation and despair settles over the land like a shroud.
People start to experience vivid nightmares with nothing to remember come the morning, but a sense of foreboding a feeling that is is coming, soon. It is the heart of Winter and a darker time people have never felt.
People flock and cling to their faith and hope for salvation. The Temples and Shrines of the land see an influx of the weary and accept them all, for in these few sanctified places they are able to feel some semblance of peace. Some realisation that it is just another dark Winter and that it will pass.
But as with all things, the strong or wealthy survive, barely. The toll on the populace is high, but it could have been worse. The Churches pulled together and helped their people where they could and like-minded people with the means to help, provided what aid they could.
Spring rolls round, sure it has come later but it arrived and now is the time for planting, for settling into the ground and bringing new life to the world. Yet all is not right, the feeling of despair, has if anything worsened. The weather and very lands themselves seem affected, storms rage and the rains do not stop. What should be fertile lies dank and stagnant, devoid of life and resistant to all forms of cultivation. What does grow seems withered and corrupted, and beyond the use of the people.
There are places where things grow healthy and pure, but not enough for the needs of everyone. As with the Winter this new problem, seems to affect some areas greater than others but affects them none the less.
It is at this time that you have a waking dream, as you dry yourself by the fires trying to bring some warmth into your chilled bones, soaked once more by the storms raging outside.
You see a tavern, seemingly glowing from within, with a pure white light, with a backdrop of the mountains behind. You see a mage, holding back the shadows with her staff but you that know soon that she will be overwhelmed. You see an axeman laughing in the forest, the trees that he fells becomes the corpses of Knights toppled to the ground. They rot away to rise again a foul abomination of what they once were. You see a skull hovering over own head, it`s mouth open wide as it consumes you.
You come to with a start and remember all that you have seen with the one sure conviction burn`t into your mind, you need to get to the lands of the Poor Knights of Danar with all haste, for it seems that whatever is coming is almost here.
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Maximum player places - 16
Maximum crew places - 30