The Iron Marches

About this adventure

The Iron Marches have burned for three seasons. From the east, the Hollow Legion marches—an army of the dead that does not sleep, does not fear, does not retreat. Against them stands the last free city of the orc clans: Kharak-Thul, whose black walls have never fallen. But the siege grinds on. The dead do not tire. The living do. You are among the few who still dare to leave the walls. The shamans speak of a wound in the world, somewhere deep in the corrupted lands the Legion emerged from. A source. A heart that still beats beneath the rot. If it can be found—if it can be destroyed—the Legion might falter. Might crumble. Might finally die. The chieftain has called for volunteers. Most who answer will not return. But the alternative is waiting behind stone until the food runs out, until the walls crack, until the dead pour through and make everyone a soldier in their endless march.