The armies of Hyperborea have at last been unleashed, having gathered in the north for almost a month at last they have struck out in full force. An army a thousand strong, made of both men and a circus of flesh-crafted monsters. Their objective was simple to breach the walls that would hold them back from the south.
However the army of Louhi was not prepared for the bloody fight the defenders of the north would throw up before them, it was the only on the fourth attack that the walls were at last breached. Climbing over mounds of their own dead the Hyperboreans breached the walls of the valiant defenders.
Firewatch blunted the strike that was aimed at the heart of the Savage Wilds. But what will the survivors do now?
The defences of one of the camps of Hyperboreans has grown, from spikes added to their roofs after one foolish group decided to clamber over their walls, to their witches causing the waters around it to be even more perilous than they were already. Meaning that those who touch the water would feel the cold a lot quicker and would make climbing up the other side near impossible.
Their doors are sometimes heard, creaking open, their draw bridges landing with a echoing thud before the foot falls of many leave the base, before the bridges are raised once more. They raid and attack any who they cross, their blood-lust unending and their goals to destroy and claim as many as possible strong, the sounds of a horn blown three times signals their coming.
Can you stop this tide of Hyperboreans? Their numbers only seem to grow, in the north, in the cold, where your screams can carry on the wind but many will not find you.
However, to think the Hyperboreans alone are a threat to the lives of the Savage Wilds would be a mistake, from a golden dragon to rumours of Lemurians seeking revenge in the name of Dagon.
What will you do Exile? How will you survive?
In the dead of the night, the sound of trees being chopped comes, before it is followed by the breaking of rocks. A single blue torch is lit, Witchfire, glowing and lighting the path of a few Hyperboreans.
Construction begins that night, however, it does not end there. No, it continues first the pillars of a black stone bridge are formed, then the bridge itself is pulled into action, followed by a wall of black ice and witchfire.
Next comes the voices that carry across the cold landscape, can you hear them? What they are saying may indeed be lost to you, but the number of voices is not. A camp has been set up, followed by siege equipment.
What are they planning?
Who lies in their path?
Whatever it is, the Hyperboreans are making their presence well and truly known. They are planning to stay.
Foreboding whispers come from the North, tales of something dark and twisted happening to captives of the Hyperboreans, whilst rumours say that something or someone has escaped their clutches, there are tales of these creative torturers searching for souls and minds, magical or otherwise to devour for their own nefarious needs.
But to what ends?
As the sun sets over the Savage Wilds, a rumble deep from beneath the earth can be felt in the southern regions. The quakes last for a little while before a thunderous explosion of rock and sand quake across the mountains west of Murun. Eyewitnesses report sighting a strange, winged figure soaring through the skies from that direction, the strangest of the rumours being reports of sightings of glimmering golden scales shimmering through the darkness.
Like a spreading cancer, the Beastmen spill from the cold mountains of the north. Their wild eyes illuminate the darkened nights and savage braying pierce the silence as they descend upon lone travelers and fortified villages alike. The War Herd comes, bringing ruin and terror. When the sound of their horns fill the air, a man is left with but two options; flee, or fight and pray his gods steel his soul.