The change began quietly. Rivers dulled, leaves turned gray at their edges. The soil, once rich and alive, grew heavy with a scent like rust and smoke. It's been 2 years since the start of whatever this was.
The Sayers called it corruption, though no one truly knew what it was. It spread like a tide through Haustfyr’s wilds, twisting the land where it passed. What had been beautiful became dangerous. What had been sacred became unknown. Now, that darkness drifts south, toward Greatfall.
---The City Beneath Red Leaves---
Greatfall still pretends to be at peace. The canals run clear, carrying the sound of water through narrow streets lined with red and gold trees. Lanterns hang over the market, glowing through the evening haze. The people move with a weary hope, pretending the world beyond their walls has not begun to die.
I arrived at Baron’s Blades, where a forge burns against the cold. The smell of metal and smoke filled the air. Baron Lillikin stands at the anvil, arms crossed, face streaked with soot. His eyes catch mine as I approached.
“You signed up?” His voice is rough, but not unkind. “Good. Now prove you’ve got more to offer than a fancy signature.”
Around me gathered some of the other volunteers. Wint Gallow, tall and broad-shouldered, his bandaged hand resting on the handle of his greataxe. Allura Vale, her silver-gray hair tied back, the worn lute on her back polished smooth. Pip and Roe, the Dolio twins, moving in restless circles. One grinning, the other watching, both ready to bolt or strike.
We've all joined the same cause: the Haustfyrian Attainment, Restoration, and Protection Expedition, or HARP Expedition for short. It was a promise to fight the spread of corruption and a chance to make the land whole again. Baron divided the recruits into small teams and the five of us are placed together.
---The Sound of Attack---
The steady rhythm of hammer on steel cuts off without warning. From outside, a scream carries through the streets. Then another. Baron’s head lifts and his expression hardens.
We rush to the town square. Dust spilling between the buildings, and the light takes on a strange, red cast. Then we see them, the Corrupted Shambling Hounds. They moved through the chaos with powerful, deliberate steps, muscular beasts of fur and sinew. I've seen their kind before, loyal guardians of Haustfyr’s forests. But now, black resin coats their hides, and their eyes burn like embers. Their bodies are whole, but wrong. Every movement jerks with unnatural hunger.
One slams into a market stall, sending wood and fruit scattering. Another tears a man from his feet before anyone can reach him. The sound of snarling fills the square. I summon the Barkskin Totem, roots cracking through stone as its aura spreads. Pip darts into the shadows, Roe vanishes into a nearby dust cloud. Allura strums a sharp chord that splits the air, the sound staggering one of the beasts.
Wint drives his axe down, cutting deep into a hound’s torso. The creature falters, then unnaturally twists back toward him, relentless. I call up a surge of heat through the Flamespit Totem, fire whipping across its back. It shrieks but does not fall.
“Forget the teams!” Baron shouts over the noise, appearing at my side. “Follow me!”
The square burns behind as we run. Allura’s notes blur into a low hum as identical illusions of her shoot up from the ground. Pip drags Roe away from a collapsing archway. Wint turns and stumbles after us.
At the plaza’s center, Baron throws aside a section of cobblestone, revealing a hatch of hammered iron. His voice is steady, but his eyes have already accepted what comes next.
“You’re not ready for this yet. The Sayers at Haustrasill need to hear what happened here. Take the tunnels and don’t look back.”
“Baron—” Wint starts, but the blacksmith grips his shoulder.
“I’ll hold them off.”
He pushes us down through the hatch as the ground shakes from the approaching horde. The last thing I see before the lid closes is Baron raising his blade, the torch lighting glinting along its edge.
---The Undertree Pass---
We fall into dark, damp air. The smell of earth closes around us, cool and heavy. Water drips somewhere ahead. When my eyes adjust, I can see faint green light moving along the tunnel walls.
And then a voice.
“Oh dear, what a fine mess we’re in.”
A small figure steps forward, no taller than my chest. Her wide-brimmed mushroom hat glows softly, lighting the narrow space. Her nose twitches as she studies each of us.
“You must be some of the new recruits from above,” she says. “This is the Undertree Pass.”
She taps her staff on the stone, and a pulse of warmth spreads through the air. My heartbeat slows and the ache in your limbs fades.
“I’m Madam Bassina Birchroot,” she says. “You look shaken up. Let me help.”
A faint shimmer moves across the tunnel floor. Pip and Roe glance at each other. Wint steadies himself, eyes wary but grateful.
“Well,” Bassina continues, “no point wandering when you’ve got a portal-hopping old bird like me around. I can take you someplace safe, if you don’t mind mushrooms.”
I nodded. The others hesitantly follow. Bassina smiles, small and knowing. “Good. Hold still.”
She traces a circle in the air with her staff. The light swells, threads of green and gold weaving through the stone. The tunnel hums with quiet energy.
“Roots remember where to go,” she says softly.
The glow rises, wrapping around us. The world blurs, and then, everything is gone.
