Last moon saw the death of a Witch-Queen and a savage blow dealt against Anubisath, Witch-King of the North. Across the northern landscapes of Midworld, his forces recoil and retreat. In Freehold, the weather remains mild since the dispersal of the Withering Storm, with the telltale warmth hinting at an early thaw. However, the lakes and ponds in the HInterlands ripple in disquiet. Streams and brooks babble at some quiet grief, threatening to surface. And when bedlam reigns amidst the elements, ruination will soon follow.
It has been a mild winter, thanks to the efforts of the Freefolk to save the Winter Spirit. Yet across the towns and villages of the Hinterlands, crops are wilting and orchards are withering without signs of a cause. Town farmers and Hinterlanders alike report the rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning from cloudless skies. Though these events appear somehow connected, none can put forth why so until the rumors started flooding in. A creature, titanic in frame and ponderous in bulk, was witnessed crashing into barricaded farmsteads and village granaries, leaving nothing but ruin and bloody pulp in its wake. Lucky are the few who managed to escape it and its minions, though they remember only one word: