Remnants and Secrets That Remain
Yet Trastmoor is not truly dead.
Among the charred ruins, whispers persist — tales of relics untouched by flame, of visions glimpsed in the mist, of songs sung in empty streets where no living voice should linger.
The fountain at the village center, though shattered, still murmurs faintly on nights when the void winds rise.
The cemetery beside the old church bears headstones blackened but unbroken, and some say they weep at midnight.
Travelers speak of shadows moving without cause, of bells tolling where no hands remain to ring them, and of glimmers of light deep within the hollowed bones of the town.
Some call it a curse.
Others believe hope itself left a seed behind, buried beneath the ashes, waiting for the right soul to uncover it.
Memories Echoed in Ash
Though the bodies of Trastmoor’s people crumbled to dust long ago, their memories endure, clinging to the bones of the town like morning mist.
The player may witness Memory Echoes — spectral glimpses into moments before the fall:
A blacksmith hammering at his forge as the skies darken.
A priest ringing the church bell in desperate warning.
A child clutching a wooden bread token, lost amid the chaos.These echoes are not fully alive, yet neither are they dead — trapped between moments, looping fragments of love, hope, terror, and loss.
Some seek to deliver final messages.
Others simply exist, lost in the river of time, unable to move on.
Through these memories, the true story of Trastmoor slowly reveals itself — piece by piece, to those who dare to listen.
🕯️ End of Chronicle I
