You will arrive along the old road.
It winds with a troubling, serpent-like suggestion through the corrupted countryside leading only to ever more tenebrous places. There is a sickness in the air and in the poisoned earth suffocating all good life from this once thriving place. It is in every gaseous gasp of the sucking mud, in every foamy crash of the waves, and writhing in the once verdant forest that houses only vermin, brigands, and beast.
To retake our home we must brandish the torch of hope and cast the fiends into the mud away from the eyes of the divine and decent folk so that all will hear of our arrival and know that their kind are no longer welcome. Blackwater is a festering pit of abominations, and though they breed quickly in the darkness, perhaps we can slay them even faster. Perhaps with a strong arm anchored with righteous purpose we will find our salvation...
Or our doom... But there can be no bravery without a little madness.
You will arrive along the old road.
