The mist has not lifted. Though the cursed observatory lies silent and the stars above burn undisturbed, the presence of Ansarion still lingers in the breath of the wind and the tremble of the land. His influence is no longer distant. It is crawling toward the heart of Latakar.

The party's path leads south through veiled forests and shattered villages, ever closer to the source of the Shadow Curse. The world grows darker with every step, not just in the sky, but in the hearts of those who pass through the cursed lands. Friends turn cold, beasts turn twisted, and even memory becomes unreliable.

It is said Ansarion once flew with rage across the skies as an ancient black dragon. But now, cursed by shadows and stripped of mortality, he has become something worse, a creature of hunger and silence, one who sees through stone and soul alike. Slaying him may be the only hope left.

But reaching him means walking through ruin.