Wealwood Manor - Nathan Ross
This once elegant manor home has fallen prey to both time and neglect, slowly crumbling as it settles into the riotous weeds and vegetation that engulf it. Behind the manor looms the Wealwood, demesne of the fey. Its twisted roots and crooked branches have already begun reclaiming the building, seemingly from the inside out.
Yet the manor does not appear abandoned, not entirely. Well trodden tracks lead to the front doors and a large stable stands at odds to the manor, its surroundings cleared of vegetation. A faint light flickers through the windows. No horses are stabled within however. Instead cages of varying sizes are stored, wrought of cold iron.
In centuries past a group of siblings, those who would later become known as the Vilruks, came to the edge of the Wealwood. At this time the border of the wood was a desolate place; the dread fey which inhabited the wood would brook no mortal neighbour. Those who passed too close to their realm simply vanished, their fates unknown. But with wit and grace the Vilruks struck pacts and bargains with the many fey of the woods, and a peace was brokered. As the lands bordering the Wealwood were settled, the Vilruk family was granted title over the land, from the very edge of the Wealwood to what would one day become the township of Orrer’s Haining. And at the edge of the wood they built their home and seat of power, Wealwood Manor.
As the years passed, a kinship grew between the fey of the woods and those peoples who had settled at their borders. In time, some of these fey left the woods and became house spirits, that they might better watch over their favoured few.
The current Lord Vilruk is a recluse and derelict in his duties, caught up in the grief of personal tragedy while his family home falls to ruin around him.
A restless spirit now dwells within the manor, its essence permeating the walls. Its ethereal form can sometimes be seen as it flits past windows in search of something, though it torments any who venture within.
An unknown force has agitated the fey of the wood. Their unearthly cries and drums echo throughout the countryside each night. Rumors are whispered of darker secrets within the Wealwood, of which the Vilruk line has never spoken.