The rain...it was fitting. As the procession of people moved in solemn rows of black umbrellas over black suits and dresses, wet heels trying to evade puddles that were deep enough to consume the shallow souls of those left behind. Windward Cove was a town of skeleton crews and wreckage left behind from an unseen war no one could explain. Some claimed it was the plague that decimated their population, leaving behind only a third of the humans and less than that of the supernaturals.
Others knew it for what it was. A witch's curse, sent to punish a town who’d turned their back on her family. Bitter, Clementine Fallston returned to end the sickness infecting towns all over the world. Supernaturals. The witch used her powers for ‘good’ and had utilized a deadly amount of witchcraft in a curse so abhorrent it had purged the entire town of any supernatural presence.
Two witch covens, one pack of wolves, two vampire houses...and every lone creature who walked the wave ridden oceanside to the thick vegetation of forestry on the west...had fallen victim. Like a forest burned to the ground, the town of Windward Cove had been taken to its knees. Seemingly, abandoned and empty of a good amount of its population, the town turned sleepy. Nothing significant happened, everyone seemed to go about life in a form of shell shock that had no clear ending insight.
Leave town? Some did, others were too poor, to attached, or just to damn stubborn to give up on the dying town.
Perhaps it was those stubborn souls that drew in the interest, shining bright beacons of hope in a pool of inky despair. The Courts of the Fae nations looked upon Windward Cove with pity or curiosity, depending on who you asked. No place was as ripe for change as this place here. With a thriving sea on the east side and a lush forest on the west, the Fae saw potential where the rest of the world saw darkness. (More soon!)
