Tales of Darkmoon Vale
t is said that somewhere within the heart of Darkmoon Wood there lived a witch named Ulizmila of enormous power. No one knows what became of the crone, but within a small, almost perfectly circular glade somewhere in the Darkmoon Wood, lie the remains of her earthly possessions. The nearest stands of pine, eln, and Sidoren Ash, all typically sturdy woods, twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door.