Welcome to the Gloomy Hollows of Spookinite Valley
Resting amid the foothills of rural Vermont is a land haunted by hundreds of loathsome spirits, and within which many ghastly secrets are buried. Travelers have avoided this realm as far back as the period of the early settlers. A darkness had touched its grounds, leaving it stained as a place of great terror and melancholy. Spookinite Valley had been its name as far back as anyone could recollect. Many dared not step foot upon the soil of the forlorn vale; only a few of the living were fearless enough to travel amidst the shadowy mountains. Unfortunately, however, most of the dauntless souls did not return home, and those hallowed enough to make it back were forever sullied with a morbidity of the heart.
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Important: Where have I been these past few months?
---Many Ghoulish Tales Await The Living, Here In This Dark Place---
The Night Whence It Came
It was indeed an exceedingly cold evening in late October--every tree upon the vast hillsides shuddered while the furious thunder rumbled violently over the obscured valley. The tempest was imminent, but something of an even more malevolent nature was approaching. The wailing and unrested spirits could be heard from inside the walls of the forsaken Inn; for they knew that during the forthcoming unhallowed night, the long-awaiting secrets would be revealed and the lingering darkness would be released.
When The Darkness Grew
And as the dreadfulness of the proceeding night wore on, rather twisted and horrid things began transpiring--menacing whispers resounded over the broad cornfields while blackening hazes consumed the nightly heavens. All moonlight had ceased as the gruesome creatures freed themselves from underneath the earth--and then shortly after, their irredeemable hunger grew. But alas, it was merely the beginning of the end.
The Horrendous Ending
Ethereal winds began crying out unnaturally as the wraiths of the shadows descended upon the mortal realms. Heavy heartbeats resonated over the lands as brooding screams and shrieks endured unceasingly. Indeed, the grimness of such ghastly demise was evoked. Spectres of The Nocturnal chanted ancient hymns so thus the harvesting of darkness could commence, and every lost soul would be everlastingly incarnated into a creature borne from the Dark Sickness.