Welcome to the perilous Grim Valley, a place that proves deadly to those lacking divine protection from the gods and goddesses. For those driven out of the Great Civilizations in the Upper North, it becomes a refuge of last resort. Yet, few who venture into the valley survive, and those who do are compelled to form a Faustian pact with one of the deities who reside in the Undercroft.

Beware, for these bargains come at a steep price.

Among the precious few who have endured is the village of Shadow's Pass, home to a meager nine hundred souls. Although this large for a Grim Valley village, it is modest by the standards of any self-respecting town in the Upper North. The village's enduring prosperity is rooted in a deal struck two centuries ago by the then-chief of Shadow's Pass with the God of Nightmares, Necrosis.

In exchange for the village's continued salvation and affluence against the deadly monsters which stalk the Grim Valley, the villagers of Shadow's Pass must offer up one child at the dawn of every new decade.

The village of Shadow's Pass exists as one of these few survivors with a scant nine-hundred villagers. Large for a village in the Grim Valley—small for any self-respecting town in the Upper North. The reason for village's continued prosperity is simple: two-hundred years ago, the then-chief of Shadow's Pass made a deal with the God of Nightmares, Necrosis. In return for the village's continued salvation and opulence against the deadly monsters which roam Grim Valley, the villagers of Shadow's Pass must offer up one child at the dawn of each new decade.

This day, dubbed "Hollow's Dawn," is a grotesque and repugnant practice, yet sacrificing one child enables the remaining hundreds to sustain their wretched existence.

So inexorably, without respite or reprieve, the dreadful cycle persists—each turn of the seasons bringing forth yet another iteration of the gruesome tradition that haunts the village of Shadow's Pass. It is only with the arrival of the village's twentieth Hollow's Dawn that a palpable sense of apprehension descends upon the villagers, like an ominous cloud casting a foreboding shadow over the hapless hamlet...

"Arte...I don't want to die, please..."
"...Don't worry, Nimia. I will protect you. No matter the cost."