“You step into Grimroot Woods, where ancient trees twist skyward like skeletal hands, their tangled canopy suffocating the light. The air is thick with the scent of decay, and every shadow seems alive with unseen menace. This is the domain of the orc, a fearsome race who revere the primal spirits of the land. Their warriors adorn themselves in the hides, fangs, and feathers of the great beasts that roam the woods, mimicking their forms in battle. They move with predatory grace through the thicket, their painted faces and beastlike cries striking fear into all who dare intrude.
Deeper still, the land grows fouler. Swamps spread like a festering wound, their murky waters cloaked in a shifting mist. These are cursed grounds—a cemetery for once-great giants and mighty beasts, whose bones lie tangled among the roots of ever-hungering trees. The undead stalk these swampy depths, twisted echoes of the land’s grim legacy, drawn to the dark energies that seep from the earth.
In Grimroot Woods, life and death blur, and the land itself feels like a predator waiting to strike.”