The Crooked Moon
Somewhere, lost in the shrouded realms of death, lies a land of endless night where long‑forgotten horrors are revealed to those who travel throughthe mist.
There, in a crooked house lives a Crooked Man with a crooked grin. He raises crooked arms to a Crooked Tree at the edge of midnight and hears the whispers of the Old Ones.
They speak of a beast that stalks the darkest woods and darkest hearts, a crown of horns upon its head. If you lose your way and feel a warm breath that chills you to the bone, run.
Follow the songs of harvest time, and before long, you’ll find revelry in the dancing shadows of blazing wicker. No matter your story, these lonesome, misty rails will deliver you to where the hallowed cannot save you.
Now is the time to brave the dark wood, beware the witching hour, and weave your own dreadful folktale underneath the Crooked Moon.
You are about to embark upon a journey into the unknown, where uncanny folk with strange superstitions revere the Old Ways, and creatures of folklore lurk on the isolated fringes of civilization.