Aethelgard's Withering

The rain tastes metallic. Not the iron tang you might expect from a passing storm, but a deeper, more alchemical reek. It seeps into your bones, chilling you from the inside out, mimicking the creeping dread that's been your constant companion for weeks. Welcome to Aethelgard. Or what's left of it. They call it the Withering. It started subtly enough – crops failing, livestock dying, whispers of sickness carried on the wind. Now, the skies are perpetually bruised, the earth cracks and bleeds a strange, viscous sap, and the very air hums with an unsettling energy. The Order of the Silver Dawn, once the guardians of Aethelgard, has fractured. Some cling to dogma, preaching of divine punishment and demanding repentance from a terrified populace. Others, like you, have seen the truth – this isn't a test of faith, it's a disease. An infection that spreads, consuming everything in its path. You are a Remnant. Once a knight, a scholar, a farmer, a rogue - it matters little. What matters is that you are one of the few who retain a spark of the old Aethelgard, a flicker of sanity in a world descending into madness. You remember the songs, the histories, the forgotten ways to heal the land. But knowledge alone isn't enough. Armed with what little you possess – a rusty blade, a tattered grimoire, a family heirloom tarnished with the Withering's touch – you must venture into the blighted lands. You will face grotesque creatures twisted by the corruption, desperate survivors driven to extremes, and perhaps worst of all, the insidious influence of the Withering itself, which whispers promises of power and offers oblivion. Will you succumb to the darkness, or will you find a way to rekindle the flame of Aethelgard? The fate of this dying land rests upon your shoulders. Choose wisely. Your journey begins now. Be warned, Remnant. This world demands sacrifice. What are you willing to give?