Into the Velnswood
The hills rise wild, and there are valleys with deep woods that no axe has ever cut. There are dark, narrow glens where the trees slope fantastically, and where thin brooklets trickle without ever having caught the glint of sunlight…The old folk have gone away, and foreigners do not like to live there… The place is not good for imagination, and does not bring restful dreams at night.
—H.P. Lovecraft, “The Colour Out of Space”
Your travels have led you to this place, a small village in the wilderness, clinging to the edge of the Wood. Whether you will find Gold, or Glory, or God—or meet your end in the wilds of the cold, harsh North—is yet to be seen.