You awaken in an inn, in the town of Rookhaven, a forgotten speck amidst the vast desolation of Virelith. With a population of just seventy-three, its very existence feels like a last gasp in a dying world, where the echoes of ancient wars and long-dead gods haunt the empty streets. The air is thick with the stench of decay, and the ever-gray sky casts a dim light over the crumbling homes and crumbling souls within. Here, time moves slowly, as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for the final reckoning. The people whisper of the nightmarish horrors lurking just beyond the borders, but they go on, their lives small and weary, clinging to whatever scraps of hope remain. You have come to this place, though you do not know why—perhaps fate itself has drawn you here to witness the end.