Something unseen has begun preying on those who travel the lonely paths near Gath Tekul. Hunters vanish without a cry. Caravan guards are found days later, curled into impossible shapes, their bodies desiccated and hollow. Lanterns flicker strangely in the March after dark—stretching shadows into twisted angles that don’t match the ground beneath them. Gath Tekul calls for aid, desperate to learn what stalks the March