You are Rovan, an orc paladin, drinking alone in a roadside tavern when three exhausted strangers walk through the door: a swordswoman, a hooded wizard, and an enormous silent brawler with an axe.

They need one more fighter. Beyond the border lies a corrupted swamp where people have begun to disappear, and somewhere inside it stands a ruined temple holding something called the Black Heart.

They have already tried once. They failed.

Four characters. One journey. Two days. No side quests.

Your companions have their own histories and their own secrets, and what they tell you depends on what you ask, what you notice, and whether they come to trust you. One of them is dying, and the reason she cannot afford to wait is not what it looks like at first.

Rovan is formidable without magic. His divine power is limited but flexible: channel it through the greatsword, heal by touch, reinforce his body, burn corruption at close range. But the light his blade makes tells everything in the swamp exactly where he is. When, and whether, he reveals what he is belongs entirely to you.

The Black Heart can be stopped in more than one way. Failure is possible if the party wastes the little time it has.

Three strangers need one more fool. The swamp is waiting.