three souls. three sacrifices. three figures walking, barefoot and frozen, to press their shaking palms against an ancient source of power. a lighthouse cutting through the rain, standing proud in the eye of the storm. THE NEMETON. its roots twist and coil deep beneath the earth, unfurling beneath the town of beacon hills like hollow veins long since drained of life.
but not anymore.
the nemeton has a pulse. it thrums, loud as a heartbeat, and supernatural creatures the world over turn their heads toward that sound. it's insistent. impossible to ignore. witches feel it as a shift in the wind, a change in the tides. vampires sense it as keenly as a drop of blood in the desert. some are curious. some are hungry. some are coming. and some are already here.
beacon hills, once quaint, has become a bustling hub of unfamiliar names and faces. business is booming. and for the first time in decades, warm light glows from within the halls of the long-abandoned salvatore house. perhaps it's mere coincidence. perhaps it's an omen of better times to come. but a select few residents have long since learned the hard way that occam's razor rarely applies in a world where monsters move in the shadows ...
WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS.
admin note: this first plot drop is an opportunity to establish dynamics! we encourage you to interact with as many different muns and characters as possible.
