High in the frozen peaks, Vekker’s Cabin stands half-buried in snow, its timbers groaning under the weight of years and guilt. The Lower Level is cluttered and silent, the remains of miners and madness preserved by the cold. The Upper Level carries the ghost of something worse — betrayal, whispered through the icy draft.
The surrounding Environs sprawl in all directions, treacherous cliffs and drifts concealing more than just the dead. The wind here doesn’t howl — it accuses.
