What Future Awaits the Godforsaken?

Many things happened across this land that night. Beyond the encirclement of the gnoll army in the open and the transfer of military power from Whiptail to Biting Bone, important events were also quietly unfolding amid the desolate Brass ruins.

The power unleashed by the planar rift had reshaped the terrain of the entire Gorgon Pass, stripping the dwarves who had lived there for nearly a thousand years of their advantage in knowing the land.

It was as if the land had abandoned them completely and refused to shelter them any longer. The dwarves who had survived the fortress's collapse scattered in every direction like panicked rats, but the land they remembered had long since changed beyond recognition.

Like the gnolls, they had to adapt to this new terrain all over again.

But that wasn't a bad thing.

The changed landscape had turned all the information the gnolls had gathered into worthless scraps. That was why, even though it was already the middle of the night, the gnoll vanguard still hadn't completed its encirclement of the ruins. The gnolls had to find their way here all over again, and locate a route that would let the Biting Bone army advance quickly.

That would not be easy, and it gave the battered Brass Dwarves one last chance to escape.

"Keep moving! Hurry, don't stop! Our kin at Bolute Pass are waiting up ahead. Hold on to your children, help the wounded, and throw away anything you don't need! I'm talking to you—ditch the money you're carrying, you bastard!

"Look around you! Haven't you suffered enough?"

A former high priest of the earth, his face covered in grime, was leading a band of several hundred dwarf refugees through the unfamiliar mountains beneath the night sky. Their destination was clear: cross the ruins