Background and History

ERIE ISLE is a tiny, barely populated island which was largely abandoned a number of years ago. At one time it was a vacation spot for middle class summer vacations, but the toll of hurricanes and ocean pollution reduced it to a shell of its former self. The island was finally almost completely abandoned when Gaston P. Muircastle, the chairman of a large pharmaceutical company, murdered his wife, five children and then killed himself in the mansion overlooking the highest spot on the island. Rumors quickly spread through the town that the mansion … and indeed the entire island … was haunted. Rents fell, people stopped coming, and eventually the town began a long slide into darkness.

Erie Isle, 1907

Frederik Muircastle, Wealthy Business and owner of a rising pharmaceutical company. His company had gained notice, and was growing rapidly. He lavished in his new found fortune, moving onto Erie Isle, and building his estate there. It soon bustled and thrived, thanks in no small part to Muircastle’s wife, Eleanor. Growing slightly bored with being locked away within their new mansion, she soon decided it would be a good idea to hold regular events, festivals to entertain the townsfolk.

Erie Isle soon became known as a tourist attraction, the events and festivals attracting visitors from all around, the town expanding, people from all walks of life arriving on the island, each and every year the events getting bigger and better ..And then it happened.


August 16th, 1914.
The beaten, bruised and blooded body of Eleanor Muircastle is found naked in the bedroom of Muircastle Manor, discovered by the grief-stricken Frederik.

Torn by his blindness at his wife’s cries for attention with the parties, which soon ceased.. Muircastle turned to.. a dark path, seeking out those underground he knew could give him what he sought, his funds turning to obtaining certain tomes and texts.. concerned with raising the dead.

He devoted money, time, effort, everything to the pursuit of bringing back his beloved wife. Those offering him a way to do so knowing full well what they were about to unleash...

Gaston P. Muircastle was just eight years of age when his mother died, and he was there with his father, an unknowing participant of what would come next. His father stood before him, and others walked around him, robed and cowled. Dark words filled the air, it suddenly becoming thick, darkness swirling around him. Gaston had no way of fathoming what was going on, and could only watch in silent horror as he saw what his father had done. The body of his dead mother twisting and deforming, changing into a creature of nightmares.

Gaston watched as his father and the cowled others struggled with the infernal beast, he watched as the creature slaughtered them all.. but worst of all, he watched as it turned to him, and smiled, before returning to the darkness, leaving him standing within the room surrounded by violence and gore.

Gaston Muircastle had remembered the scene every day of his life, it haunting him for all his years. Dominating his life. His own memory had become warped by it all, he was assumed mad because he claimed a beast had killed them all. Gaston was rushed away to live with relatives on the mainland, not returning to Erie Isle for ten years... until he old enough to assume control of the company.

He returned, everything was fine, he settled back into the old Mansion of his parents, the basement sealed away from everyone for what he remembered within it.. and he married, had five children. He even began to have festivals again, in honor of his mother. Erie once more thrived, becoming even bigger than before.

Then the depression hit, and tourism died off slowly... and then the war came, and his company was pressed into helping out the country. His manpower and resources devoting to the efforts, adding stress upon worry to Gaston’s tortured mind.



February 3rd, 1938
He was 36, and his wife, his children...his memories... all took their toll on the man, Gaston felt pulled, called almost to the basement. He removed the seals and went inside, the visions flooding into his mind, pushing him over the edge. The taint seeped into him, bidding him do the grim work that came next. He visited his wife as she slept, strangling her, her eyes flickering open to see him before he took her life.

He repeated his work five times that night, each one of his children dying to their fathers own hands, his mind ravaged beyond his control. A moment of clarity came afterwards, and Gaston, in his anguish, took his own life.

It was the moment his blood touched the cold ground that the ritual completed itself. The ritual his father had began so many years before, the ritual that had taken his fathers life and the lives of so many, the ritual that had torn Gaston’s mind. The land of Erie cracked, and tore, a dense mist spilling over the landscape as the darkness spread out, warping the land.

Weather changed, the land beaten and ravaged by the hostility of a sudden change in its nature. Tornados tore into the buildings, floods washed away the lives of many inhabitants, lightning ripped dense woodlands apart. Erie was changed.

The few inhabitants left tried to band together, forsaking the buildings, their possessions, their dead.. everything. They tried to hide.. but some had changed. The people noticed a change in the air, some of them feeling strange, unusual.. suddenly finding themselves doing things none could before.. and it frightened them. Wolves, Dogs, Cats, even Bats and Rats changed, their nature changing, becoming more feral, as if the lands had empowered them, given them a lust for something more...

Where once life reigned, now the dead walked, shades of life haunting the old lands. There were reports of strange sightings.. darkness reigned...

Erie Isle was changed, the air was thick with something beyond that of normal understanding, something beyond that, something.. alive, and malevolent.

Erie Isle was cursed.




A Letter From A Resident

Erie Island? Yeah, it was a great place to visit.

Years ago, people used to come from near and far to visit this quiet little place. Shopping, a great club, and beautiful scenery…you would be hard pressed to find a more beautiful vacation spot. Mom had an apartment over in the complex, it’s mine now. Was a shame when things started changing…

A few years ago, the weather patterns shifted. Violent storms raged, hurricanes, rain, and floods. No one knew quite what to make of it, but you can’t have a vacation resort when it rains all the time. Then, the real oddness began. Bodies found half eaten, people going mad, strange noises in the night. You see, this place is, one giant…’tween.

Yeah, like the kids stories, it’s an in between. In between what you ask? Life, and death.

See, Erie Island is haunted. And no, it isn’t the go bump in the night, scare the kids with bedtime stories haunted. It’s the spirits of the past wanting things…revenge, advice, aid. The ghosts here…yes, I said ghosts…get used to it if you’re going to stick around for a while…are a power unto themselves. The dead come to meet the living here, and usually quite violently.

Sigh.

Of course, humans are the last to know such things.

Other beings, seem to be drawn to it, like a moth to flame. Lycans, Vampirs, Demons, Angels…they are all here with their own stories…trying to help, trying to harm. Don’t see them you say? Well, you don’t see them anywhere else either, doesn’t mean they aren’t around. See, while humans aren’t that quick on the uptake, there are a fucking ton of them around…and would love nothing more than a set of demon horns for the wall, or a lycan skin rug. They’re here though, watching, doing their thing…I’d be careful what alley or sewer I decide to explore if I were you.

How do I know all this? Heh, well…just stay around for a while, you’ll see soon enough. I should get going though, I have to meet my fiancée at the bar…



Physical Description

The island has a small town in one corner, with a courthouse, jail, hospital, a theater, a few struggling shops, a club, and a run-down apartment building. Underneath the town is a broken sewage system, not maintained in many years. A cathedral and crypt stand at the end of the main street.

Near the town is a small forest with an abandoned children’s park and picnic area. Overgrown and often shrouded with fog, the forest is largely frequented by werewolves
and other predators.

The Isle’s lighthouse stands alone to the north, overlooking the stormy sea and the town’s slum area. Factories and industrial buildings stand nearby.

The former mansion on top of the hill continues to be haunted by the ghosts of Muircastle and his wife and children, and occasionally they add to the toll by killing wanderers who dare to enter the mansion.