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Gnilderoth stands as a testament to the destructive power of conquest. Once a majestic city shared by elves and humans, it is now a desolate shell, choked by the oppressive grip of the orcs. The very stones weep soot, stained black by the relentless fires of crude forges that churn out brutal weapons and armor. An acrid stench hangs heavy in the air, a noxious blend of coal smoke and decay.
No sane soul ventures near Gnilderoth. It is a place of snarling savagery, where orcs revel in their bloodthirsty might. Yet, Gnilderoth serves as a launchpad for their barbarity. From here, they surge forth like a tide of violence, ravaging the Orc Lands, plunging the depths of Dreadwood into further chaos, and striking fear into the hearts of humans in Vullaria and Paksmuth. Even the vibrant forest of Brightwood isn't safe from their malicious raids, for the orcs take perverse pleasure in despoiling the elven woods. Gnilderoth, a name that once whispered of prosperity, now echoes with the clang of war and the promise of bloodshed. It casts a long shadow across the land, a chilling reminder of the price of weakness.
It rests west of the Howling Chasm.
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