Season 2

The Everfrost Approaches

Five years of relative peace have passed since the Great Razing and the fall of the Red Hand Horde.

Now, each winter grows colder, drier, and harsher than the last. Even in summer, the days have been shorter and darker.

Crops are suffering. Where bountiful harvests used to flourish under attentive hands, they now wilt and fade at any opportunity. Livestock is lean, and the hens lay infrequently. People are cold, hungry, tired and growing desperate.

In the north, monsters make their way south, encroaching on lands from which communities already strain to scrape another year of survival. From high peaks, fell beasts have been seen descending. With the Horde gone, smaller threats closer to home are taking advantage of the encroaching dark times.

Now the Wilderpax of Vraath hangs by a tenuous thread and Lord Urso is nowhere to be found.

"Hither the darkness creepeth," spake the soothsayer. "His oath fulfilled, the King once again sits upon his frozen throne."

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West Marches at the Board N Brew

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