A quick adventure for Tales of the Valiant

The Echo of the Marrow-Drift

The fog in the Marrow-Drift doesn't just cling to your skin; it clings to your thoughts. In this sunless mire, the Sallow-Warden Guild maintains a tenuous grip on the silver-leaf trade, their lanterns the only barrier against the encroaching dark. But lately, the lanterns aren't enough. Something massive, a chimerical horror of bone and bioluminescent moss, has begun tearing through the harvesting camps. You stand at the edge of the mire, caught between a scholar’s frantic pleas for a 'mercy' that sounds like madness and a guild factor’s gold that smells of blood. The beast is growing, its cries echoing with a disturbingly human cadence. If it isn't stopped—or saved—by the next new moon, the corruption will spill out of the marsh and into the veins of the valley itself.