incomprehensible.-It should feature things beyond human understanding. Ancient things, or powerful things.

alien.-Not necessarily extra terrestrial, but just totally non human. This is where the tentacles come in usually, but they aren't required. Just so long as things don't look, act, or think like humans.

Unknown.-Fear of the unknown is the key thing. For the most part the thing should be unknown and left to the reader's imagination. Nothing scares us like our own imagination.

Indifferent.-There are a couple of Lovecraft stories which feature evil or malicious things, but for the most part they are just so much more powerful than humanity, and so different, that they don't even realise or care about humans. Like ants on a road.

BlackBirch-Located far from any major city or towns BlackBirch is a small Hamlet community that even at its prime was home to less then one hundred residents-and even then most of the population had lived under servitude of the De La Porte family whom made their home high up on the hill overlooking the few buildings of BlackBirch. Actually the De La Porte family is the whole reason the little community exists among the once beautiful sprawling countryside and shimmering sea that rocks against the shoreline; the few shops and tradesmen drawn to the never ending flow of work that stemmed from the De La Porte Mansion.

These days the once luxurious mansion lies abandoned and in shambles while a sickness seems to fill the very air of the Hamlet community while simultaneously twisting the once beautiful landscape into something foreign and sinister. A constant pall clouds the very skies, as if a great storm is moments from finally letting lose but simply never does.

Mansion-The De La Porte Estate has overlooked the small settlement of BlackBirch for generations but has as of late fallen into a state of disrepair. The few remaining locals have almost become accustomed to the otherworldly sightings and rumors that run rampant about the once glorious family home. Many a thief have set out to rob this gilded tomb only to never be seen again.

The massive house itself sits perched atop the largest hill within the surrounding countryside-the placement giving an excellent view of both the settlement of BlackBirch and the surrounding ocean. The grand structure stretches five stories up in a classic gothic fashion; the mostly stone structure consisting of many straight pillars and impressive archways with vaulted ceilings.

Tavern-One of the few establishments still running (and thriving) in the settlement of BlackBirch is the Twilight Tavern. Ran by a charismatic but sickly man by the name of Raziq the ageing ex adventurer is well known for his fair prices and friendly demeanor. As of late his cough has gotten noticeably worse.

Despite being the oldest building in town the Twilight Tavern still stands strong; even the ever encroaching dread that seems to be swallowing up the rest of the countryside unable to touch the literal beacon in the night that is the Twilight Tavern. As far as construction goes it is a rather simple yet impressive structure: from the outside the building looks as if it was constructed entirely of mortar and hand picked stones-the four walls of which extend upwards about sixteen feat before hitting the roof that is made up of old darkened and black wooden shingles. There is almost a constant plume of thick gray smoke rising from the massive chimney that rests against the backside of the old building.

The inside of the Tavern is much more welcoming then its cold exterior; both the floor along with the six large wooden support beams that hold up guest rooms above are crafted from hardy bright oak. Both the raised floor on the ground level and the upstairs rooms have been smoothed from years of use although most people honestly tend to like the feel of the softer floors. Like most taverns the ground floor has been packed with a hodgepodge of medium sized and rather well worn wooden tables-even better none of the available chairs to sit in match. There is also a long tabletop bar with various stools to take a seat in directly on the left side of the building. Normally Raziq is seen manning the large bar while one of his handful of other employees often gets stuck running food and drink to their guests, a fact made slightly annoying as the only way to gain access to the small kitchen that serves all the food is to squeeze past Raziqs massive frame (a task that gets more complicated with a tray of food.)

Blacksmith-Doubling as both the Towns horse stables and blacksmith this somewhat small shabby looking building is owned and operated by the grizzled old Obed Marsh-or Mr. Marsh, as he insists on being called. The building itself is made of three parts causing it to look larger then it actually is-a good half of the property is dedicated to the practically empty horse stables, the large open half of the stables made up of the black birch trees that line the Old Road. All of the actual iron work is done within the old forge on the farside of the structure; the building housing all his precious metal working equipment itself being more of an open room-Two stone walls at an angle with a domed roof is all that separates Mr. Marsh from the elements as he hammers away. Between the large stable and small forging station resides Mr. Marsh's quaint little home-the old wooden structure actually connected to the stables.

Lately the fires of the forge have grown cold nor does the constant clatter of hammer on steel fill the small settlements streets as it once commonly did. No, these days old Mr. Marsh keeps himself locked away in his home as he slowly drinks himself to death. Like many of the locals in recent weeks his daughter simply dissapeared one night without a trace or hint of foul play-almost as if she'd simply vanished from her very room overnight. He has refused to work on anything until his daughter is found.

The Abbey- The formation of monastic communities dates back to pre-Christian times, the earliest known Christian monasteries consisting of groups living in huts built near the location of a famous religious martyrs or other holy persons. As these communities of disciples grew, they attracted people who desired to study the rigid doctrine of said martyr or figure and imitate his or her way of life.

In the earliest age of Christian monastaries, the monks and nuns were accustomed to living alone. The involved nuns and monks would typically live near a village church, supporting themselves while also donating their excess food and time to the poor. Increasing religious fervor and persecution drove them farther away from civilization into solitude as time went on.

Thus to is the story of the men and women who dedicate their lives to the St. Dymphnas Abbey located within BlackBirch. These days the once vibrant religious community consists of less then five people, most of which devote their full time to running the Dymphna Sanitarium located next door to the large church site they call home. The church itself is the second largest building in BlackBirch-the mansion itself ontop of the looming hillside being the only building actually larger. Unlike the De La Porte Mansion however the local church holds is almost entirely one gigantic room-the dwarfing arches and elaborate stone pillars within the church give the constantly empty pews a very unsettling feeling.

Like many locals Father William Briden, the one priest responsible for leading mass each sunday, has recently been committed to the Sanitarium. He claimed to be hearing voices calling him to the abandoned De La Porte mansion each night for days until one night a pair of nuns caught him trying to set fire to the elaborate architecture that was the church. Its been two weeks since mass was held, much to the growing chagrin of the locals who long for the presence of the Lord more and more with each passing eerie night.

The St. Dymphna Sanitarium-Surprisingly this extremely tall stone structure has resided within the Hamlet of BlackBirch since well before the nightmarish horrors had been unleashed-the founders believing that the scenic surroundings would do well for the mentally afflicted. This long established sanctuary for the clinically insane is overlooked and ran by the nuns and monks of the local Dymphna Abbey. The servants of God that had founded the Sanitarium had chosen the location for its scenic views that they were all positive would help in the future rehabilitations of their many “customers.”

These days the Dymphna Sanitarium is filled to complete capacity-many of the patients now coming from the actual little Hamlet of BlackBirch. The small handful of nuns and monks left in the community struggle to properly handle these mentally damaged individuals-in the past few weeks things have gotten extremely bad as many patients have begun to try their damndest to escape and answer the unhearable call of the mansion.

Name: Gestas

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Class: Highwayman

Appearance:

Bio: Gestas was a fairly boring brigand for most of his life. He did stagecoach robberies, wanton murder, you name it. Then, after one of his friends died during a robbery, he repented of his life of crime. Until he began to run low on funds, then he joined up with a former bandit buddy named Dismas. When Dismas received his letter inviting him to Blackbirch, Gestas asked to tag along. After all, Blackbirch was as good a place as any to score some loot, right?

Name: Dismas Delaporte (pronounces his last name Dell-uh-port as opposed to the family De La Porte/Day-Lah-Port)

Age: 36

Gender:Male

Class: Highwayman

Appearance: If you had to adequately sum up the appearance of Dismas in one word the only viable option would be Mean. Not only do his sharp hawklike facial features come off as hostile but his average wardrobe screams “I'm probably committing crime” on a daily basis. He is actually somewhat small for a man, standing at only 5'7” and likewise has a slender frame to match. Don't let that fool you though; he is the type of man that has no fat on him and is instead made up of mostly thin ropey muscle. He is that rare dangerous type of scrapper who gets mistaken for weak due to the outward appearance of his body: many a man has made the mistake of thinking they could overpower Dismas only to wind up on the sharp end of his blade.

His most eye catching and memorable feature is the the quarter inch thick scar that starts mid forehead and runs directly over his left eye all the way down to the bottom of his cheek (somehow his eye came out unscathed)


Bio: Like many a highwayman Dismas has honed his craft over the years by preying on the misfortune of others in a somewhat civilized manner-well, as civilized as a gun toting dagger wielding criminal can be. There was only bloodshed when they resisted...or he had a really good ambush.

Its not his fault that he lives on blood money though-or atleast that is what he would tell himself night after night as he crawled ever deeper into the bottle. This mental affliction caused from the years of his trade was only made worse by the fact that Dismas had always been well aware he came from (As he had been told) an extremely rich family-only you don't really have any inheritance rights when your only claim is a mother who was a whore to the sex crazed lord of the local mansion.

Needless to say he was shocked to receive a rain soaked and partially blood stained letter from a random courier; the note of which he'd brought Dismas both explaining that the family mansion had fallen to ruin as of late and he should come reclaim his birthright.

Was it possible that he had somehow outlived every other legitimate heir to this seemingly abandoned estate? And if so-how much money could he make off the famed mansion that overlooked the Hamlet of BlackBirch? Probably a pretty penny, he assumed. Without wasteing any time he set out for his ancestral lands, determined to claim his rightful riches for both himself and his long forgotten and late mother.

Name: Testran Beele
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Personality: Cowardly, disloyal, submissive, quiet
Class/Occupation: Traveling Minstrel

Appearance: Most certainly not tall, his height would be roughly attributed to 5'3". He is brown of hair, and his eyes are strangely extremely deep blue. He dresses in very common looking brown attire, but with one exception. He has a cape that drapes down to his waist and is a very bright yellow, which he is very fond of. Insulting his cape means insulting him. He likes to wave the cape around when preforming or storming out of a bar, and no one's ever seen him without it except himself.

Bio: The Beeles were never a lucky group. Testran has had many interesting ancestors leading very glamourous (but not fortunate) lives. If you get a few drinks in the young fellow, the first story he would divulge is the story of his great-great-grandfather, Morris. Supposedly, Morris Beele was once conned by a great king in times past, in which the king promised Morris land "as far as the eye could see" if Morris would take up arms in his name as a knight. Who's eye? The eye of the king's secretary, who was a severe myopic. Therefore, Testran inherited from his ancestor the knight roughly 9 square yards of land. After that, it was bad turn after bad turn for that family.