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{{Official-document|Title='''The Phantom Village of Velathae'''}}
'''Velathae''' was a town in the [[Riverwood|Barony of Riverwood]] which was mysteriously destroyed.
[[File:Velathae.jpg|right]]
<big>'''The Phantom Village of Velathae</big>


'''''The story as told thus far...
The center of the town was built around a great barrow, and upon it, a tower was built. After its destruction, the town was nearly forgotten until many years later it appeared in the month of [[Jastatos]] on and near the anniversary of its annihilation. It was later discovered that when the town appeared, it offered a portal beyond the [[Ebon Gate (gate)|Ebon Gate]]. It had in essence become a ghost town.


The village of '''Velathae''' was not always the subject of low whispers, nor was it shrouded in so much myth and hyperbole. Historical records in neighboring towns located on the outskirts of [[Riverwood]], and even in the City of [[Helt]], tell that Velathae was a village populated by artisans and craftsmen of all types, and its citizens were predominately [[human]], with a minority of ordlyn (non-human race, in this case [[elf|elves]])--not to mention the hathlyn ([[half-elf|half-elves]]) offspring that eventually appeared. The humans of Velathae were on friendly terms with the minority groups, and there were never any officially recorded disputes. The village often attracted attention from some travelers and [[merchant]]s for the intriguing wares that the villagers produced, which were boasted of as being unusually well-made.
==2007 Velathae Ebon Gate Storyline==


The citizens of Velathae were a quaint, caring bunch, and they enjoyed the close-knit community in which they dwelled. Often, profits acquired through individual shops were given to the town to help make repairs to the village, or to build new communal establishments. People who sought to relocate to the village of Velathae were generally greeted with open arms, and they were even helped through the charity of other citizens to establish a foundation in the village. Those with artisan or crafting skills were especially sought for additions to the community.
Leading up to the [[Ebon Gate|Ebon Gate Festival]], crows would fly overhead and parchments were dropped at individual's feet. This apparently grew tiresome for the GMs involved and they dropped the entire book in Solhaven one evening.


Like with all towns, Velathae had its seedier underlining that was not truly welcome, but generally tolerated unless laws were broken. High traffic of trade always attracts outlaws and scoundrels of all types who are out to find quick, easy means of gain. Some even established places of business amongst the village, but only others of their type frequently visited. When one of them grew too violent for the village, especially when laws were broken, the community as a whole helped to contain them in jail--or, in extreme circumstances, to banish them from the town proper.
The book reads as follows:


The village itself was founded around a massive hill. At first, the founders considered attempting to flatten the mound by conventional means, but it was decided that such an attempt would be futile and they decided to just build around it. On top of the hill, a large tower was erected by one of the founding families--an eccentric bunch who enjoyed collecting various artifacts and sharing lore over a glass of wine. It wasn't until several years after the building of the town, and several missing kids, that the locals began to investigate the intriguing hill.
There are only two of us left, myself and [[Nigrimi]]. He thinks I do not see the way that he watches my every move, but I do and soon I think there will be only he. Our party was twelve when we set out from [[Nydds]] the first time, who could have guessed it would have brought us full circle. This accursed task has cost us too much. I can feel it in my skin and in my ears, calling to me, taunting me with its relief. If only I could find it, find the answer and be rid of the decay. Nigrimi brings me supper and I watch him shuffle through our meager camp. He reminds me of Asull, who was the first to go...<br>
Page 1


It was discovered that the hill was actually an ancient, great barrow from a war long since passed, the interior of which was filled with a labyrinth of corridors and tombs of dead warriors. Who they were and why they fought has been lost to the annals of history, but their remains lie underneath the seemingly innocent hill. Those few who ventured into the barrow, and returned, spoke of arcane writing on the walls and whispering voices--some even claim to have been attacked and chased away by the dead. The barrow was sealed, and entrance was prohibited by the village officials, but there were still cases over the years of people vanishing and who were thought to have been lost to the dead that lurked within Tower Hill.
Asull was determined to make the rope bridge work. If filled him with a deep passion that none of us had seen in him before. The want of the bridge began to cause him to twist and turn in his sleep. There were times, on our trek to the northern mountains, that we would wake to find his hands curled into perverted knots and his back bowed at an impossible, agonizing angle. He would reach for the sky in his sleep and his body would stay in the mangled position until we found him that way in the morning. Many times we thought him dead, many more times we wished him to be. But as soon as one of us would touch him, he would come alive. The howl that ripped from his lips was nothing compared to the hollow moans he made during his death.<br>
Page 2


The mysterious incidents of the hill, however, did not keep people from traveling to Velathae--nor did it keep a few of the barony's wealthiest families from establishing homes just outside the town. A small community sprang up, just down a path from Velathae, of estates for rich nobles who did not wish to mingle with the commoners. Winter Wren Estates were exclusively for those with wealth and nobility, and they boasted many large villas. Several incidents occurred over the years of the seedier types wandering into the community, so the inhabitants erected a large iron fence around the property to keep the unwashed masses out.
The bridge he'd been dreaming of, that had haunted his waking and sleeping moments, was found five months into the journey. It spanned the Great Valley of the Northern Mountains. We could see it for days, and this only strove to draw Asull deeper into the growing madness. He began to cut boards long before we could see its details with our own eyes, long before it stopped being a smudge on the horizon. Asull dragged more than his weight in boards and fought off any that would try to help him or ease his torment. We did not understood that our pact had assigned our fates, how could we have known what it would cost us?<br>
Page 3


Not all of the wealthy lived outside of Velathae, however. One family, said to have been among the founders of the town, lived in an expansive mansion along one of the side roads. Records do not list much information about the family who lived in Villa Macellarius, though it seems all its members were lost throughout the early years of the village to strange, unexplained deaths.
We camped as we always had, but the bridge was too close. We did not hear him leave in the mist-filled night, but his screams would echo with us for hours after his departing. I think it was those screams that caused Vefmur to begin to crack, or maybe it was that Asull had finally had his moment with the bridge that he'd dreamed about. I do not know exactly what caused Vefmur to cry in the night, and I do not know what caused Asull to obsess the way he did, but if it hadn't been for him we'd have never made it across that bridge.<br>
Page 4


Nearby residents reported to the town officials and constable suspicions of murder, not only of just the family, but also several people who visited but were never seen from again. The reports indicated blood-curdling screams at odd hours of the night, sightings of bloody handprints on windows, and other strange commotions. But the town officials never documented any evidence of foul play, or otherwise. After the last member of the family died, Villa Macellarius closed and was left unsold as newer wealthy residents preferred Winter Wren Estates outside of town.
Once we started across it Vefmur began to despair. The distance was incredible, its length beyond imagining. We walked hand over hand over that rope and plank bridge, stepping on the boards that Asull had replaced. It took us fully two days. Vefmur panicked on that first night when he could see neither ahead nor behind us. During the second night, as we gazed tiredly at the distance, Vefmur could stand the strain of it no more and ran ahead of us towards our destination. The mist swallowed him. When we found him in the morning he was frozen solid, his body clutching the bare rock facing of the wall. At his feet we found Asull, his face split into a twisted grin of pure joy or agony. There are times in a man's life when one expression can be confused for the other. This was one of those times. Asull was bent over with that expression that is neither and both upon his face, fitting the last board onto the bridge. He was forever frozen with the bridge he adored.<br>
Page 5


One of the proud accomplishments of Velathae was a large apple orchard that was planted by one of the village residents. It was tended to mostly by the villager's family, but every so often those who broke the law would be sentenced to work in the orchard for several hours, or days, as punishment by the village officials. The orchard was quite prosperous, and deemed to grow some of the best apples in the barony. There were long rumors that gnomes were responsible for the disappearance of many apples over the years, and eventually, several years later, an Aledotter was caught selling bootleg hard cider to a local inn. A deputation of sheriffs sent to investigate the possibility of a compound beneath the orchard was never seen again.
Meinri was the next of us to go. She had been hurt deep in her spirit by the sights she had seen and the cries of the men who lay frozen above us. She cried most of the way down the face on crooked steps carved by some enormous hand. The wind tore at her, tour at us, and tossed us into the mountain as if we were rag-dolls. Halfway down the snows started and their icy tendrils lashed out our faces as if they were nothing. For eight days we traveled down that mountain and by the time we reached the bottom our faces were nothing but raw meat, bloody and torn.<br>
Page 6


Religion became an important foundation to most of the residents of Velathae, as represented in the temple that was built sometime in the mid-years of the village's existence. The temple was dedicated to the Liabo Arkati [[Lorminstra]], and it held regular services for residents and non-residents alike. The adjacent graveyard, Nazir Necropolis--which was named after one of the founding members of Velathae who died during the initials struggles of the town's establishment--holds memories of friends and family who fell through the initial struggles of the village's birth, and those who passed away later on.
We were giddy when we saw something other then grey and white -- giddy to see the green meadow spread before us. The last bit of the climb was more run than walk and our bodies cried from the effort even as our minds cried at the relief to see that warm spot. Meinri took the lead, for the first time in days seeming more like her old self. How could we have known that the traps would start this soon? Or maybe, we were naive to think that the traps hadn't started the day we left Nydds. The ground opened up and swallowed her. One moment she was crying for joy, and then next the cry was cut off and lost to utter silence.<br>
Page 7


What the historical records of Velathae will not speak of, however, are the tales surrounding its demise. On an eventful morning, the first patrons to arrive at Velathae--hoping to purchase some of the local wares--discovered a grim sight to behold. Over the course of a single night, the entire town was destroyed. Buildings were burnt to the ground, still smoldering in the early morning light, and others were simply missing entirely.
It was Nigrimi that found the clever contraption, and it was Nigrimi that would keep track of the traps. I wonder if it was for that reason that Gnymr began to watch him. Or maybe, it was after we lost Baeclen. Beaclen, who had never wanted to join this expedition and had only come because his brother was going, maybe it was his own guilt that drove him to attack Nigrimi once we were in the caves. Either way, whatever the answer is, it was clear that through the tunnels there would only be six of us. It would have been seven, but Heapleni would not heed our caution and cried out for help in the darkness that stood before the yawning mouth of the cave. She did not fall to a trap or an obsession, nor the dark or jealousy. Heapleni fell to the yeti. Nothing we could do could save her, nothing.<br>
Page 8


Portions of the orchard were gone, and what remained looked as if it was overcome by a terrible blight. Winter Wren Estates, the homes of the wealthy, also appeared to have undergone some horror unknown as parts of houses were missing, some were burning, and it appeared as through the entire place was ransacked. The entrance into the ancient barrow under Tower Hill, however, remained sealed and untouched, but its vigilant sentinel on top, the tower of the eccentric collector, was missing.
We six, now half of what had set out from Nydds, roamed through the caverns of [[Ziristal]] certain that our losses and efforts would bear fruit. Nigrimi kept us safe, his ever-vigilant eye upon the walls and ceilings, the floors and the very air. He knew the signs now and his keen sight kept us from falling to any more of the traps that [[Heglaenmri]] had assigned to this place some thousands of years past.<br>
Page 9


The strangest, and eeriest, part of it all was that no bodies were ever found of those who lived in the village of Velathae.
You can imagine our disappointment when we found the center and the scrolls were gone. We slept in that empty tomb of a library, the weight of our defeat sinking deep into our souls. It filled us with a cold so deep that our minds began to play tricks on us. We saw Assul, saw him climbing his bridge and arranging his boards. We saw Gnymer attacking us, not just Nigrimi as had happened, but each of us in turn. It was as we watched Heapleni mauled by a yeti that we knew was long dead at the top of the cave that the green mist began to surround us.<br>
Page 10


Those who were a part of the crowd that early morning said they saw markings all throughout the village--some say it was the insignia of a regional bandit clan, others say it was some demonic cultist mark. The final official investigation report on the incident never came to a conclusive determination of what happened to Velathae. Its residents simply vanished, and the town was laid to waste. Most people fondly remembered Velathae for several years after its destruction, but eventually they forgot and found new memories to cling onto. The ruins of Velathae were left to overgrow, and soon enough nothing remained of the village except for the great barrow.
Cold and damp, the mist had a mind of its own, it had a taste of its own, and it had voices of its own. Many voices, some familiar and some not, called to us asking us what it was we sought, what it was that drove us. I dared not speak the truth of my desire to it, I dared not tell it, "I am mortal and human and wish to live as long as the gods." But I could feel the words in my throat threatening to come out, threatening to rip their way up my esophagus and past my swollen tongue. I tasted blood and knew that I had physically stopped the cry from leaving me. Around me similar groans proved that others had done the same.<br>
Page 11


It wasn't until recently that Velathae became a common name once again. However, it was not spoken of in its former glory, but in hushed whispers near fireplaces. On the bicentennial of Velathae's destruction, neighboring villages reported seeing lights at night where the village once stood, and others claimed to have seen the silhouette of the tower that once sat on the great barrow. The sightings were sparse at first, and those who ventured close never found anything, but eventually the reports began to flood in around the month of [[Jastatos]].
Jeafgri was not so strong, or perhaps he was not so lucky, or perhaps even yet he merely saved himself from a worse fate. Maybe it was just his turn to commit something to this quest, something to our cause. We didn't know it would be his life. The mist filled him. It seeped into every pore of his flesh, into his eyes and into throat. We could hear him choking to death on the raw power of the mist and could do nothing but listen to his sickening, squishy death. Once the mist was satiated it animated our friend. Malniv purged the meager remains of her stomach upon the floor, her body unwilling to grasp the sick, twisted image that the mist was trying to show us.<br>
Page 12


Some claimed to have wandered by Velathae's old location during some nights in Jastatos, only to discover that the town was standing right before them with all its buildings recreated as they were before the village was destroyed! At first, only the empty village appeared...and even then only briefly. As it neared the Eve of the Reunion, however, the whispers began to include talk of seeing residents walk the streets of the village again.
And like a twisted puppeteer, the mist moved Jeafgri about the chamber until his jerking movements had brought him in contact with the far wall. We watched, transfixed in horror, as the mist commandeered Jeafgri's body and began to write upon the walls with his blood. The language was some twisted combination of common and elven with a smattering of Saramar runes thrown in. It told the tale of Heglaenmri's precious trove being pilfered by crazed humanoids that had come to [[Zilistral]] after the fall of the [[Kannalan Empire]]. The items we sought were handed down from family to family, each trying to find the secret and each not knowing that the other had the pieces that were needed to complete the prize. The scrolls went to Nydds where we had started from, but the talisman went to a family by the name of Engvredille.<br>
Page 13


Of course, hardly anyone took these incidents to be more than simple tales spread among the sordid bunch and local drunks. It wasn't until a large merchant consortium, the one that plans the annual [[Ebon Gate]] Festival, went to investigate the stories--out of financial interest, of course--that anyone began to take the tales as true. The merchant consortium sent several small investigation teams to the old site of Velathae and waited until the village once again re-materialized.
All that way! All that way to lose not one but seven of our number! And in our haste to leave that ill-gotten mist we lost Sphemina as well! My beloved Sphemina, it is you that I will miss the most. It is your eyes and the softness they held for me alone. How, how could we have gotten so far and yet I lost you anyway! The anguish of it ate at my heart even as we plodded out of those dreaded steppes with the wind lashing at us and biting into our skin. We passed graves and frozen corpses only to find ourselves back at that thrice cursed bridge.<br>
Page 14


And re-materialize it did. Velathae stood as it had two centuries before, as if no time--or damage--had happened. But most curious of all were the residents who were now ghosts. They continued to act out their previous life, working in their shops and selling wares. In their point of view, they did recognize their own deaths, but they still felt the old desire to sell their wares. People who visited the phantom village during Jastatos tried to discover what happened to the once living town, but none of the residents seem to be able to recall the full details of the fateful night. At most, they can remember individual tales of moments just before they died. Nor could anyone determine exactly why, after so many years, the village was appearing. Some tossed it up to the work of Lorminstra giving the mysterious village of restless spirits a chance to figure out what happened to them before they move on to Oblivion, and others say it is the work of the great evil that destroyed it with a nefarious plan to use the captured spirits as an army against the barony of Riverwood.
We crossed the bridge with sorrow in our hearts, and our footsteps heavy. We returned with answers but lacking our friends, those we had come from our homes with, who we had gone to college with, and who we had loved. Upon returning to Nydds we spoke to no one. Not a soul. And too, none spoke to us. It was as if we were half men and women returned from something that would haunt us for years. And haunt us it did. We four could feel the mist clinging to us, driving us on to find Heglaenmri's scrolls and talisman. Driving us, driving us, driving us to the edge of our sanity and sapping us of our strength.<br>
Page 15


The investigative teams brought back what they discovered, along with some curious bit of information--it seems that objects taken from the village persisted long after the town vanished, as if they were any other object and not some relic from a phantom village. The merchant consortium listened to the information, and decided that Velathae would make a grand stage for a brand new Ebon Gate Festival--a true ghost village with intricacies and delights to bewonder the living. The village officials agreed with the negotiation to stage the festival during the times the village has manifested during Jastatos, but it came with a forewarning. The town officials said that not everything has returned to what it once was, and not everything is at it seems. Further, the ghosts of Velathae had problems with the seedier, scoundrel type spirits causing havoc, and they decided to contain them within the orchard. None of the ghostly residents have heard from the wealthy of Winter Wren Estates, and strange occurrences have been happening at Villa Macellarius. The great barrow's activities also increased beyond the occasional happenings, as it did before, although none of the village residents can determine why--except that the seals on the entrance are missing.
Every floor of the Library at Nydds was searched, monks and librarians each keeping from us as if we were cursed. And perhaps we were. We four pored over every scrap of paper, every piece of knowledge. It had taken us two years to plan our expedition and two more to travel and return to the beginning, but in the Library it took us five years. Five years of ancient tombs, of eating only enough to survive but little more, of drinking to keep us from turning to dust on the pages we read, and of sleeping only briefly. We became wraiths in that library, haunting the oldest and most decayed texts. It was no surprise to us that a paper fungus claimed Malniv two years into our search.<br>
Page 16


The phantom village of Velathae is a curiosity to the living world, and those who enjoy lore and legends. It's uncertain whether or not the full truth about the village's demise will surface, but scholars and bookworms alike will continue to search out the information. As to the ghostly residents, however, they are simply happy to be a part of the living world once more, and to be able to do what they loved doing for the short time that the village manifests each year around the [[Eve of the Reunion]].
Nigrimi kept us going. He drove us the way a man at the edge of an avalanche is driven to run. Always we felt death lapping at our heels, and always Nigrimi kept us going and kept us one step ahead. We searched the catacombs for months, scrabbling like the rats around us across the broken stone and rot, the filth and decay. Hunger gnawed at our bellies and backs, but we were driven to find the scrolls. Driven by Nigrimi and driven by the deep need to get the task done for us, even those of us that had not survived its undertaking.<br>
Page 17

The night the scrolls were found, Slemdh was taken from us. We were weak! So weak, you must understand and I plead with you to understand. We could not see everything, could not understand the entire scope of what was before us and what was yet to come. Slemdh was first to the sarcophagus and so he was first to feel the lich's touch. How could we have known that the Library of Nydds would harbor such a thing? But we should have known, we should have remembered what it had done back in the ruins of Zilistral. Remembered how it had used Jaefgri and then deposited his husk like it was nothing.<br>
Page 18

This is how Slemdh fell, empty and nothing. Nigrimi was quick to destroy the lich after that, while I held Slemdh and watched his eyes grow vacant. There is nothing that can take you back from that, nothing. This is why we had created the task! To escape death! And look at what it had cost us, what it had taken from us.<br>
Page 19

We were twelve when we set out from Nydds the first time, now there were just the two of us. Nigrimi began to remind me of Allus more and more each day. Allus, who was the first of us to go to death. The first of us to fall to the all consuming dark of our ill begotten task. Allus, who was the first of us to taste its defeat. Nigrimi watched me, he watched me always and it had been like this since we crawled from the catacombs. I think soon he will kill me and then, there will be just him.<br>
Page 20

My beloved Sphemina, what have we wrought? How could trying to escape death cause so much of it. The deeds I have done, the things I have seen, I am not sure that I will ever make it to your side for them, and they will haunt me always.<br>
Page 21

We left Nydds for a second time, this time to a village called [[Velathae]]. This is where the talisman is, where Nigrimi drives me. I have never felt as alone as I do now, never felt so out of peace and plagued. He will have what he has come for and he will drive on and on into the dark night taking and seeking that one thing. It seemed too easy when we got there, too simple to suddenly have pieced together. The village was just sitting there in the morning hours and it seemed filled with a peace that I possessed once only at your side, Sphemina.<br>
Page 22

We stole quietly into the side of the hill beneath the great tower and we moved as nothing more then shadows. So many turns and twists stretched before us, so many paths to take but we pushed on with only the dead voices to guide us and the task to fuel us. We came to the room that the talisman was housed in, some forgotten laboratory or maybe it was just a room. The despair has reached me so deeply that all I see now is sinister, but the horrors to come would make the past ones pale and shudder in their wake.<br>
Page 23

Nigrimi clutched the talisman. He had been full of an unhealthy energy that I could not maintain for some time, as if he could sense that the moment was finally at hand. As his fingers curled around it I could feel the air being sucked from my body, ripped violently from my chest. I could not gasp or draw breath for several moments, and indeed it was like the very breath of life was drawn into that vile talisman, that monument of our pain and suffering. I know not what happened next for my vision had gone black.<br>
Page 24

When I came to, Nigrimi was grinning above me in the glow of an eerie green light. He called me little brother and drew me to his side. He had not called me such since the days of our childhood and it made me wonder if perhaps the drive had left him, but then his next words would show me that the man I knew was gone and all that remained was the ugly beast created by the task.<br>
Page 25

When I came to, Nigrimi was grinning above me in the glow of an eerie green light. He called me little brother and drew me to his side. He had not called me such since the days of our childhood and it made me wonder if perhaps the drive had left him, but then his next words would show me that the man I knew was gone and all that remained was the ugly beast created by the task.<br>
Page 26

He said that there was much to do and I watched in horror as he stroked the mist. The mist! The mist that had used up our Jaefgri, the mist that had probably taken you from me! He stroked it and I felt the bile rise in my throat. I choked it down for fear of what my revulsion would cause me.<br>
Page 27

During those days I lived as a zombie, a half man of disjointed sleep and starvation. Despair was my friend as I watched him, night after night, call to the mist and release it into the streets of the quiet village. Each night it hunted and haunted, each morning returning with the innocent children of the village. In revulsion, frozen with fear, I would watch as the mist pulled the soft skin from their tiny bones and drained their screaming souls into the talisman.<br>
Page 28

Nigrimi went slow at first, but grew impatient in the end. He wanted results faster, quicker. He needed to know and feel. At first it was two children a night, and then it was four. Each night the amount doubled, each night more were taken into the barrow and each night I watched in frozen half-dead fear that I too would be next.<br>
Page 29

When the hundredth child had been harvested for its soul, Nigrimi let the crows in. The stench was unbearable, the rot and disease that had filled these halls, these halls that echoed with the dead and that were always that horrid mist green. He let them in and they consumed the rotting meat of the innocent that he had destroyed.<br>
Page 30

For every soul he had taken he had been granted two years by this strange mist, this disgusting mist of death and vile and horror. Two years to live past his life, two years to live longer. This was the price, Sphemina! We went in search of some mystical means to extend our life so that we humans could love and live as long as an elf and look at what it had brought us! Had we but known when we set out for this task! Had we but known the price it would take we would have abandoned it! None of the storybooks prepared us for this; nothing in history could have shown us the grizzly truth as these long nights have! Like children following breadcrumbs home, we followed Heglaenmri's trail and now his curse was unleashed upon the quiet village of Valathae!<br>
Page 31

It was as I watched the crows feasting on the carrion that I began to grow brave, began to feel like the man I was merely a sickly shadow of. I came to understand then, that night, what had to be done. I will destroy the talisman, sweet Sphemina. I will rid this village of it and of Nigrimi. Maybe then I will find peace at your side... If I am worthy... If I succeed.<br>
Page 32


==See Also==
==See Also==
*[[Of crows and journals (saved post)]]
*[[Of Crows and Journals]] (2007 EG storyline)
*[[Ebon Gate 2006]]

*[[Ebon Gate (gate)]]
==External Links==
*[http://www.play.net/gs4/info/tomes/velathae/home.asp http://www.play.net/gs4/info/tomes/velathae/home.asp]
*[http://www.play.net/feature/themes/ Official Soul Harvester desktop wallpaper]

{{Humans}}


[[Category:Storylines]]
[[Category:Ebon Gate Festival]]
[[Category: Ebon Gate Festival]]
[[Category:Settlements of the Turamzzyrian Empire]]

Revision as of 23:03, 28 June 2017

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The Phantom Village of Velathae is an Official GemStone IV Document, and it is protected from editing.

Velathae.jpg

The Phantom Village of Velathae

The story as told thus far...

The village of Velathae was not always the subject of low whispers, nor was it shrouded in so much myth and hyperbole. Historical records in neighboring towns located on the outskirts of Riverwood, and even in the City of Helt, tell that Velathae was a village populated by artisans and craftsmen of all types, and its citizens were predominately human, with a minority of ordlyn (non-human race, in this case elves)--not to mention the hathlyn (half-elves) offspring that eventually appeared. The humans of Velathae were on friendly terms with the minority groups, and there were never any officially recorded disputes. The village often attracted attention from some travelers and merchants for the intriguing wares that the villagers produced, which were boasted of as being unusually well-made.

The citizens of Velathae were a quaint, caring bunch, and they enjoyed the close-knit community in which they dwelled. Often, profits acquired through individual shops were given to the town to help make repairs to the village, or to build new communal establishments. People who sought to relocate to the village of Velathae were generally greeted with open arms, and they were even helped through the charity of other citizens to establish a foundation in the village. Those with artisan or crafting skills were especially sought for additions to the community.

Like with all towns, Velathae had its seedier underlining that was not truly welcome, but generally tolerated unless laws were broken. High traffic of trade always attracts outlaws and scoundrels of all types who are out to find quick, easy means of gain. Some even established places of business amongst the village, but only others of their type frequently visited. When one of them grew too violent for the village, especially when laws were broken, the community as a whole helped to contain them in jail--or, in extreme circumstances, to banish them from the town proper.

The village itself was founded around a massive hill. At first, the founders considered attempting to flatten the mound by conventional means, but it was decided that such an attempt would be futile and they decided to just build around it. On top of the hill, a large tower was erected by one of the founding families--an eccentric bunch who enjoyed collecting various artifacts and sharing lore over a glass of wine. It wasn't until several years after the building of the town, and several missing kids, that the locals began to investigate the intriguing hill.

It was discovered that the hill was actually an ancient, great barrow from a war long since passed, the interior of which was filled with a labyrinth of corridors and tombs of dead warriors. Who they were and why they fought has been lost to the annals of history, but their remains lie underneath the seemingly innocent hill. Those few who ventured into the barrow, and returned, spoke of arcane writing on the walls and whispering voices--some even claim to have been attacked and chased away by the dead. The barrow was sealed, and entrance was prohibited by the village officials, but there were still cases over the years of people vanishing and who were thought to have been lost to the dead that lurked within Tower Hill.

The mysterious incidents of the hill, however, did not keep people from traveling to Velathae--nor did it keep a few of the barony's wealthiest families from establishing homes just outside the town. A small community sprang up, just down a path from Velathae, of estates for rich nobles who did not wish to mingle with the commoners. Winter Wren Estates were exclusively for those with wealth and nobility, and they boasted many large villas. Several incidents occurred over the years of the seedier types wandering into the community, so the inhabitants erected a large iron fence around the property to keep the unwashed masses out.

Not all of the wealthy lived outside of Velathae, however. One family, said to have been among the founders of the town, lived in an expansive mansion along one of the side roads. Records do not list much information about the family who lived in Villa Macellarius, though it seems all its members were lost throughout the early years of the village to strange, unexplained deaths.

Nearby residents reported to the town officials and constable suspicions of murder, not only of just the family, but also several people who visited but were never seen from again. The reports indicated blood-curdling screams at odd hours of the night, sightings of bloody handprints on windows, and other strange commotions. But the town officials never documented any evidence of foul play, or otherwise. After the last member of the family died, Villa Macellarius closed and was left unsold as newer wealthy residents preferred Winter Wren Estates outside of town.

One of the proud accomplishments of Velathae was a large apple orchard that was planted by one of the village residents. It was tended to mostly by the villager's family, but every so often those who broke the law would be sentenced to work in the orchard for several hours, or days, as punishment by the village officials. The orchard was quite prosperous, and deemed to grow some of the best apples in the barony. There were long rumors that gnomes were responsible for the disappearance of many apples over the years, and eventually, several years later, an Aledotter was caught selling bootleg hard cider to a local inn. A deputation of sheriffs sent to investigate the possibility of a compound beneath the orchard was never seen again.

Religion became an important foundation to most of the residents of Velathae, as represented in the temple that was built sometime in the mid-years of the village's existence. The temple was dedicated to the Liabo Arkati Lorminstra, and it held regular services for residents and non-residents alike. The adjacent graveyard, Nazir Necropolis--which was named after one of the founding members of Velathae who died during the initials struggles of the town's establishment--holds memories of friends and family who fell through the initial struggles of the village's birth, and those who passed away later on.

What the historical records of Velathae will not speak of, however, are the tales surrounding its demise. On an eventful morning, the first patrons to arrive at Velathae--hoping to purchase some of the local wares--discovered a grim sight to behold. Over the course of a single night, the entire town was destroyed. Buildings were burnt to the ground, still smoldering in the early morning light, and others were simply missing entirely.

Portions of the orchard were gone, and what remained looked as if it was overcome by a terrible blight. Winter Wren Estates, the homes of the wealthy, also appeared to have undergone some horror unknown as parts of houses were missing, some were burning, and it appeared as through the entire place was ransacked. The entrance into the ancient barrow under Tower Hill, however, remained sealed and untouched, but its vigilant sentinel on top, the tower of the eccentric collector, was missing.

The strangest, and eeriest, part of it all was that no bodies were ever found of those who lived in the village of Velathae.

Those who were a part of the crowd that early morning said they saw markings all throughout the village--some say it was the insignia of a regional bandit clan, others say it was some demonic cultist mark. The final official investigation report on the incident never came to a conclusive determination of what happened to Velathae. Its residents simply vanished, and the town was laid to waste. Most people fondly remembered Velathae for several years after its destruction, but eventually they forgot and found new memories to cling onto. The ruins of Velathae were left to overgrow, and soon enough nothing remained of the village except for the great barrow.

It wasn't until recently that Velathae became a common name once again. However, it was not spoken of in its former glory, but in hushed whispers near fireplaces. On the bicentennial of Velathae's destruction, neighboring villages reported seeing lights at night where the village once stood, and others claimed to have seen the silhouette of the tower that once sat on the great barrow. The sightings were sparse at first, and those who ventured close never found anything, but eventually the reports began to flood in around the month of Jastatos.

Some claimed to have wandered by Velathae's old location during some nights in Jastatos, only to discover that the town was standing right before them with all its buildings recreated as they were before the village was destroyed! At first, only the empty village appeared...and even then only briefly. As it neared the Eve of the Reunion, however, the whispers began to include talk of seeing residents walk the streets of the village again.

Of course, hardly anyone took these incidents to be more than simple tales spread among the sordid bunch and local drunks. It wasn't until a large merchant consortium, the one that plans the annual Ebon Gate Festival, went to investigate the stories--out of financial interest, of course--that anyone began to take the tales as true. The merchant consortium sent several small investigation teams to the old site of Velathae and waited until the village once again re-materialized.

And re-materialize it did. Velathae stood as it had two centuries before, as if no time--or damage--had happened. But most curious of all were the residents who were now ghosts. They continued to act out their previous life, working in their shops and selling wares. In their point of view, they did recognize their own deaths, but they still felt the old desire to sell their wares. People who visited the phantom village during Jastatos tried to discover what happened to the once living town, but none of the residents seem to be able to recall the full details of the fateful night. At most, they can remember individual tales of moments just before they died. Nor could anyone determine exactly why, after so many years, the village was appearing. Some tossed it up to the work of Lorminstra giving the mysterious village of restless spirits a chance to figure out what happened to them before they move on to Oblivion, and others say it is the work of the great evil that destroyed it with a nefarious plan to use the captured spirits as an army against the barony of Riverwood.

The investigative teams brought back what they discovered, along with some curious bit of information--it seems that objects taken from the village persisted long after the town vanished, as if they were any other object and not some relic from a phantom village. The merchant consortium listened to the information, and decided that Velathae would make a grand stage for a brand new Ebon Gate Festival--a true ghost village with intricacies and delights to bewonder the living. The village officials agreed with the negotiation to stage the festival during the times the village has manifested during Jastatos, but it came with a forewarning. The town officials said that not everything has returned to what it once was, and not everything is at it seems. Further, the ghosts of Velathae had problems with the seedier, scoundrel type spirits causing havoc, and they decided to contain them within the orchard. None of the ghostly residents have heard from the wealthy of Winter Wren Estates, and strange occurrences have been happening at Villa Macellarius. The great barrow's activities also increased beyond the occasional happenings, as it did before, although none of the village residents can determine why--except that the seals on the entrance are missing.

The phantom village of Velathae is a curiosity to the living world, and those who enjoy lore and legends. It's uncertain whether or not the full truth about the village's demise will surface, but scholars and bookworms alike will continue to search out the information. As to the ghostly residents, however, they are simply happy to be a part of the living world once more, and to be able to do what they loved doing for the short time that the village manifests each year around the Eve of the Reunion.

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