We had been sailing for months after departing from the port of Whitehill, and had left even the most remote hunting grounds of the whalers behind weeks ago. The charts put us northeast of the Forsaken Islands, but their bleak shores were not our destination. Our route led us farther north than most men had ever sailed, across the desolate black waters of the Northern Sea. What a fool the captain of the ship we pursued must have been to believe the unhinged claims of the priestess. There was no warm summer sea hidden by ice, no uncharted passage, no prophesied land for our people to settle. We were alone out here, so far from any known shores that not…

There were six of us when we left the trading post and traveled in the western direction, following the river in the shadow of the Inech mountains. The market we had visited was one of the few places in the world where a ragtag group like us did not stand out from the crowd. During our travels, our leader often drew quite the attention, yet here in Nassudrall the hulking shaman was barely worth a fleeting glance to most. Ch’Goa we called him; the closest approximation our tongues could produce when trying to say his true name. He stood almost as tall as the natives even though the years had bent his back, his leathery skin was brindled with age…

Chapter 1: The Arrival My name is Emily Parker, and I’ve always been drawn to the mysteries of the supernatural. So, when rumors of a haunted mansion hidden deep in the woods reached my ears, I couldn’t resist the pull of curiosity. Little did I know that my quest for answers would lead me into the heart of darkness itself. The forest around me was alive with the sounds of the night, a cacophony of rustling leaves and chirping insects that seemed to whisper secrets in the darkness. The moon hung low in the sky, its feeble light struggling to penetrate the thick canopy of trees that surrounded me. The mansion, a looming silhouette against the night sky, seemed to…

I remember that night all too vividly, as if the memories were etched into my very soul. It was a cold, moonless evening, the kind that sends shivers down your spine and makes you wish for the warmth and safety of home. But little did I know that home would offer no sanctuary from the horrors that awaited me. We were gathered around the campfire, a group of friends seeking refuge from the darkness that enveloped the forest like a shroud. The flames danced and flickered, casting eerie shadows upon the trees that loomed ominously in the distance. It was then that I first heard it, a faint rustling in the underbrush that sent a chill down my spine. At…