Burning Dead: Prologue

The prophecies were wrong. There was no great flood, no cataclysmic fire to sort out the sinners from the devout. The earth didn't split open and swallow our cities. All of that might have been better than what happened. It certainly would have been quicker.

All that is known is the world changed seven years ago. People began getting sick. It started like most illnesses, with a cough. Then the infected became hungry. The sounds and colors of the world faded and finally, once their bodies succumbed, they rose from the dead and began hunting for their next meal.

At first, people tried to cure The Sick. Nothing worked, not medicine, prayer, or exorcism. People remembered stories of wicked sorcerers raising the dead to do their bidding. They put anyone accused of witchcraft to the sword. Still, The Sickness kept spreading. Towns disappeared followed by entire countries, too.

Those who didn't flee or become infected adapted to this new life. They formed tribal communities that wandered the Deadlands, as the old country is now called, living each day on the brink of annihilation. Some hunted the dead for sport and still, others became mercenaries.

You work for the The Black Arrow mercenary company, based out of the coastal city of Stoneraft. While the rest of the world has gone to shit, you've managed to do alright. Your mug of ale has stayed full, your bed warm, and whenever you grow weary a new job always seems to fall into your lap. Speaking of which, the boss has some work for you.

A few days ago, a letter arrived from one of Bishop Oran's aides in the city of Westfall. The walls were breached weeks ago. Everyone has either fled or joined the hordes of walking dead that now crawl the streets. Food stores are running low, and it's only a matter of time. . .Bishop Oran should have listened, but he is a stubborn man.

You must travel to Westfall and rescue the bishop, as well as any remaining aides.