Gatehaven: Dead Legion

Under the shattered skies of Ysmera, war has become myth written in smoke and bone. The trenches are black rivers of blood and mud, mortars speak like ancient titans waking in their sleep, and necrotic fog slides across no man’s land like a living serpent thinking and hunting in the dark. Every night the dead rise again in numberless waves without breath or limit, and the living answer with fire, steel and prayer and wait to see which runs out first. Ysmera endures only because this is the last place where dawnsteel still bleeds from the stone like the buried marrow of the sun. Dawnsteel is not merely metal. It is the goddess’s wrath made solid. Forged into blade or bullet it does not simply kill the undead, it erases the soul-stain that binds them and burns their existence out of reality itself. Targul the Necromancer King covets this ore above all things, because dawnsteel is the one truth his legions cannot outrun, outkill or ever return from. Standing between extinction and a final fragile hope are the Silver Cross. Mercenary hunters of the dead, born in the howl of artillery and raised by trenchfire. Their weapons are dawnsteel; as is their will. Their legend is spoken on every line in awe and terror. When the trenches scream and the fog closes like the world becoming a grave, it is the Silver Cross that steps forward and says no. You are one of the Silver Cross. The siege will not end until one side is ash. --- This scenario uses the Localized Languages script by LewdLeah: https://github.com/LewdLeah/Localized-Languages1