The little village of Vermonill sat at the base of a waterfall. The village was desolate except for a few travelers that came every now and then. The wanders were pale, guant, and unnourished. They're lives reduced to the clothes on their backs and the people by their side. Every wanderer no matter young or old never made it out of the town of Vermonill. Some say it was haunted by the people who once swarmed the place filling it with laughter. Some say it was a curse by a shamen many years ago. A single traveler came wandering through the woods and stumbled upon the little village of Vermonill. He examined every building looking for any belongs possibly left behind. Finding nothing he wandered to the end of the waterfall to wipe his fast of the grime that took home in the creases of his face. He stared at the waters seeing his own reflection. He hair was matted, his teeth rotting, and his body formless and guant. He stood looking back at the little village seeing it's emptiness. Sadness filled within him as he imagined it once before, full of life and green. He looked over the end of the falls and he saw below, tiny little forms swimming in the water. "Come to us" they said to him their faces turning up to him. Sick grins spread across their faces their eyes were black as coal. "Come to us and you'll be free" they smiled, their teeth pointed and sharp. He smiled down looking below. "Yes my children I will meet you again. Just a few more souls we need my dears. To fill the vial and make me human to escape this cursed travelers body. Soon my children I will be with you again. We'll rule this world with an iron fist and every thing in this world will turn black with death."
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