The Forsaken Manor [Halloween Event] Oct 31, 2015 10:38:10 GMT -7
Post by Nascent on Oct 31, 2015 10:38:10 GMT -7
Even the salty sea breeze that swept up the steep cliffside from the crashing waves far below bore an unpleasant stillness about it, the scent it carried somehow being more that of an odoriferous bog that the free-churning ocean. The ruins of the town, name long lost to history and likely unknown to any living person, sat in scraps of moss-covered mounds with only the occasional standing stone or crumbling brick foundation jutting out of the wilting verdancy of the rampant, thorn-strewn undergrowth, faint reminders that once, long ago, people had lived here. The effect was like a graveyard, with markers not left for individual person but for entire families and clans... for days and nights gone unnumbered, as lost in the haze as the ruins themselves.
The only thing that still stood was the manor, a looming colossal shadow set against the damp fog like a raven perched on a headstone. It lingered there, details obscured in haze despite the sun overhead beaming fiercely in an effort to pierce the shroud. Its iron gates were rusted and green-twined together, its crumbling stone walls providing ingress in their stead. Nightshade and hagswort poked from the scraggly growths of the main yard, mushroom heads pushing up dirt beneath the shadow of massive skeletal oaks and needle-tipped evergreens, the entire approach a scene of vegetative want and neglect. The building, eerily, fared far better -- though several second and third floor balconies and pillars had collapsed along with sections of room the bulk of the spacious estate stood. Weathered, frayed at its edges and marred by the passage of time... but still standing. With barely anything remaining of the town beyond this resiliency came off as... unnatural.
The only sound to be heard in the forgotten landscape was the fluttering of birds somewhere in the mist... the cawing of crows made clear the residence's one living tenant, or at least that seemed the case. Yet there were other signs -- tracks of men and horses in the soft wet dirt, low-hanging leaves and branches snapped, a foot-trod path leading around the far side of the manor's outer wall...
... and, upon approaching the building's grand -- and wide open front doorway -- the light of flickering candles in the dark could be discerned, along with the smell of rotting flesh.