Commoners were speaking in hushed tones about the headless horseman some claim to have seen riding along the edge of the misty moors, and the howls of a spectral hellhound some claim haunts the moors at night ..

The dark moors near Dumnonionum, a village nestled in the heart of the countryside, were shrouded in an eerie mist that clung to the land throughout the autumn season. This ethereal veil cast an ominous atmosphere over the entire area, making it a foreboding sight for anyone who dared to venture near. The once bustling trails that connected the moors to the town now lay abandoned, for not a single villager had emerged from the mist to trade their highly sought-after peat and tin for the past two long months.

As the days grew shorter and the chill of winter approached, the absence of the villagers and their valuable resources became a cause for concern among the townsfolk. The peat, a crucial source of fuel, was in high demand, as it provided much-needed warmth to ward off the biting cold that awaited them in the upcoming winter months. The tin, on the other hand, served as a vital commodity for various trades and crafts within the region.

In the heart of the town, a small market square bustled with activity as local peasants gathered to barter and exchange their surplus produce. However, the absence of the villagers from the moors cast a shadow over the otherwise lively marketplace. Worried whispers permeated the air, as commoners conversed in hushed tones, exchanging rumors and speculations about the mysteries surrounding the moors.

One particularly chilling tale that circulated among the townsfolk was that of the headless horseman. Some claimed to have caught glimpses of this ghostly apparition, riding stoically along the mist-covered edge of the moors. The mere mention of the headless horseman sent shivers down the spines of those who heard the story, filling their hearts with a mixture of fascination and dread.

As if the tale of the headless horseman was not enough to stir fear within the hearts of the villagers, there were also whispers of a spectral hellhound that allegedly haunted the moors at night. The chilling howls that echoed through the darkness were said to be the mournful cries of this otherworldly creature, adding an additional layer of terror to the already enigmatic landscape.

These tales, passed down from generation to generation, fueled the imagination of the townsfolk and gave rise to a sense of trepidation whenever the moors were mentioned. The mist that enshrouded the land seemed to intensify the haunting ambiance, making the already sparse trails leading to the moors appear even more treacherous and forbidding.

Yet, despite the fearful legends and the prolonged absence of the villagers, there were still those who braved the unknown, driven by the necessity of securing the precious resources hidden within the mist-laden moors. They would embark on perilous journeys, their hearts pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, hoping to find the villagers unharmed and willing to trade their valuable peat and tin.

As the winter drew nearer with each passing day, the townsfolk remained on edge, anxiously awaiting any sign of life from the misty moors. The village's dependence on the resources locked within those foggy depths only intensified their collective worry, as they could not fathom enduring the impending cold without the warmth and comfort that the peat provided.

And so, the market square, once vibrant with the exchange of goods and cheerful banter, now stood as a somber reminder of the mystery and uncertainty that lay beyond the veiled moors. The townsfolk would continue to speak in hushed tones, their eyes darting toward the misty horizon, wondering if they would ever witness the return of the villagers or uncover the truth behind the spectral entities that haunted the land they called home.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:59, Fri 16 June 2023.