The Battlefield of Warlord Morvath

The borderlands lie across the country like a scar: abandoned trenches brimming with rainwater, burned-out farmsteads, and a marsh that has kept the fallen of four wars. The peace treaty is less than a week old and the ink barely dry, but the fog still reeks of gunpowder and wet earth. On either side of no man's land, exhausted soldiers stare each other down, fingers still on their triggers, waiting for a single spark.

And that spark comes from the ground. On the old battlefield, something climbs out of the mud that was meant to stay there, and it begins calling its regiment back from the grave. The fallen of both armies claw their way upright, fall in under a single banner, and march with only one order in their rotted ears: fight on until no one draws breath. The living commanders blame it on the enemy's treachery, and the flame of a new war already licks at the fuse.

A worn-out patrol leader sends you into no man's land before it is too late. You search the collapsing trenches, question terrified sentries on both fronts, and follow the trail of freshly churned graves to the heart of the marsh. Along the way you must keep living soldiers from firing on one another, while the real danger silently wrenches itself out of the earth behind their backs.

Then he stands before you: Veldheer Morvath, the Unfallen Commander, a spear still run clean through his chest, roaring the order to attack through rotted lungs. Morvath fights not for revenge but for an oath that death would not release: never yield until the flag falls. To save the border you must find the ancient banner and burn it before his army of the dead grinds the two peace armies to nothing. The climax plays out among the burning trenches, living and dead tangled together, as the first rays of sun decide who survives the night.