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.

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.

You arrive at Baron’s Blades, where a forge burns against the cold. The smell of metal and smoke fills the air. Baron Lillikin stands at the anvil, arms crossed, face streaked with soot. His eyes catch yours as you approach.

“You signed up?” His voice is rough, but not unkind. “Good. Now prove you’ve got more to offer than a fancy signature.”

Around you gather 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.

You have all joined the same cause: the Haustfyrian Attainment, Restoration, and Protection Expedition, or HARP Expedition for short. A promise to fight the spread of corruption and achance to make the land whole again. Baron divides the recruits into small teams and you five are placed together.

---The Sound of Ruin---

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.

You all rush to the square. Dust spills between the buildings, and the light takes on a strange, red cast. Then you see them, the Shambling Hounds. They move through the chaos with powerful, deliberate steps, muscular beasts of fur and sinew. You’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 Wint can reach him. The sound of snarling fills the square. You summon the Bark and Thorn Totems, roots cracking through stone as its aura spreads. Pip darts into the shadow they cast, Roe vanishes into smoke. 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. You call up a brief 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 your side. “Follow me!”

The square burns behind you as you 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 you.

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 you down through the hatch as the ground shakes from the approaching horde. The last thing you see before the lid closes is Baron raising his blade, the torch lighting glinting along its edge.

---The Undertree Pass---

You fall into dark, damp air. The smell of earth closes around you, cool and heavy. Water drips somewhere ahead. When your eyes adjust, you 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 your chest. Her wide-brimmed mushroom hat glows softly, lighting the narrow space. Her nose twitches as she studies you.

“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. Your 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.”

You nod. The others 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 you. The world blurs. And then, everything is gone.