On the day of the Great Old One awakening the drowned will come ashore. From the remains of dead fish and flotsam they will rise, obsessed with an unquenchable thirst for blood. Once the glorious sailors, now they're just bags rotten flesh seaweed, led by their hatred for the living. Finally free from the sunken wrecks of their old ships, they follow the siren call of Scylla.

When wind drives the eerie fog onto the coast, the new hordes will roam inland as far as the fog reaches - and this will mark the beginning of the end.

Design par Great Grimoire

Site créé avec - Mentions légales - Conditions Générales de Vente