Iron Legion

You trudge on towards a crumbling city, wondering if this is where your life will end. The dismal cracked buildings around you reflect your visage: worn, hopeless, and forsaken. The looming city may well be your last sight. You are lost, starving, and about to fall to your knees from weariness. An appropriate place for the forgotten to die: this city of grey and neglect.
But we are all lost things here, broken wind-up toys that through some combination of fortune, fate, and entropy have ended up in these halls. Whoever you are, wherever you come from, you are of the Iron Legion now. This grey, steel city in the middle of the plaguelands might just become your home. Dis, is the last stop.
Happiness is not promised, but acceptance is guaranteed.Category:Plague
Category:Ancient Lair