Cassiopeia wrote:

The Plot;
Once upon a time, in a far away land stood a village named Grinshaws. It must have passed its glorious time many, many years ago, during which the place was at its finest, because no one could remember seeing beauty in this place for as long as they could remember. Back when it was surrounded by beautiful meadows, when the stream was still tumbling and humming cheerily down the joyous town inhabited by wealthy people who spent their days pampering their delicate feet in their beautiful mansions. Decades slipped by, but the town was nowhere to be seen - in its place stood a deteriorated form of it, Grinshaws, a small, faded village that was lost in the current of time, with little to no signs of civilization with ruins and remains of the mansions as the only glimpse of its former glory. The history of it was vague enough - no one knew what went down in those lost years, and it was believed that those who could have known had not been alive for the recent hundred years. There were tales - out in the daylight, Grinshaws buzzed dimly with the mundane routine of chores of its inhabitants, but when the night had fallen, people gathered around the dim candle lights, clutching jars of beers and whispered, exchanging stories in hushed voices, about the past that was never forgotten. New tales were created everyday, some of them too wild and crazy to be passed on as believable, but they all had something in common. Battles and witchcraft - it was secretly believed by many that, it was the ruthless pursue of such evil arts that wiped away the life of the glorious town many years ago.
But it was just a tale - regardless of its authencity, they were safe from the past now - at least that was what they thought. Grinshaws continued to exist in peace for fifty years since anyone could remember its existence, and all was well. Until recently. A series of events had emerged, most of them involved mysterious accidents that took away a few innocent lives - and soon the whole village was clouded by fear of the history repeating itself again. There were missing cases, and the some of the remaining people were claiming something unusual - such as seeing things they should not see, or gaining memories that they should not have in the first place.
Naturally, fingers were pointed, and majority of them were towards the much-feared witchcraft. People who were suspected to have practiced witchcraft in the dark fled - but those who were captured were, typically, burned to ashes on a pole. Brave people rose from the crowd in the form of hunters, with goals to hunt down every single last of those witches. Some believed there was a bigger conspiracy going on behind the eyes of the public, and some believed there were darker forces hovering nearby, something much more dangerous than the suspected witch coven, hiding eagerly and waiting for the right moment to pounce.
But most of the eyes were turning on the mystery now - the one that used to be circulating around the town, the one that served merely as an old topic in the active hours of the pubs. The one that crushed the old town into ruins in one night. What exactly happened back then?
And what exactly, is happening now?

The Plot;
Once upon a time, in a far away land stood a village named Grinshaws. It must have passed its glorious time many, many years ago, during which the place was at its finest, because no one could remember seeing beauty in this place for as long as they could remember. Back when it was surrounded by beautiful meadows, when the stream was still tumbling and humming cheerily down the joyous town inhabited by wealthy people who spent their days pampering their delicate feet in their beautiful mansions. Decades slipped by, but the town was nowhere to be seen - in its place stood a deteriorated form of it, Grinshaws, a small, faded village that was lost in the current of time, with little to no signs of civilization with ruins and remains of the mansions as the only glimpse of its former glory. The history of it was vague enough - no one knew what went down in those lost years, and it was believed that those who could have known had not been alive for the recent hundred years. There were tales - out in the daylight, Grinshaws buzzed dimly with the mundane routine of chores of its inhabitants, but when the night had fallen, people gathered around the dim candle lights, clutching jars of beers and whispered, exchanging stories in hushed voices, about the past that was never forgotten. New tales were created everyday, some of them too wild and crazy to be passed on as believable, but they all had something in common. Battles and witchcraft - it was secretly believed by many that, it was the ruthless pursue of such evil arts that wiped away the life of the glorious town many years ago.
But it was just a tale - regardless of its authencity, they were safe from the past now - at least that was what they thought. Grinshaws continued to exist in peace for fifty years since anyone could remember its existence, and all was well. Until recently. A series of events had emerged, most of them involved mysterious accidents that took away a few innocent lives - and soon the whole village was clouded by fear of the history repeating itself again. There were missing cases, and the some of the remaining people were claiming something unusual - such as seeing things they should not see, or gaining memories that they should not have in the first place.
Naturally, fingers were pointed, and majority of them were towards the much-feared witchcraft. People who were suspected to have practiced witchcraft in the dark fled - but those who were captured were, typically, burned to ashes on a pole. Brave people rose from the crowd in the form of hunters, with goals to hunt down every single last of those witches. Some believed there was a bigger conspiracy going on behind the eyes of the public, and some believed there were darker forces hovering nearby, something much more dangerous than the suspected witch coven, hiding eagerly and waiting for the right moment to pounce.
But most of the eyes were turning on the mystery now - the one that used to be circulating around the town, the one that served merely as an old topic in the active hours of the pubs. The one that crushed the old town into ruins in one night. What exactly happened back then?
And what exactly, is happening now?