This land rewards its caretakers with pumpkins to carve, corn to reap, and souls harvest. These fields grow more than you know and take more than you may be willing to give.
As you make your way through the corn, keep your eyes open and your mind closed. Make no mistake, you’re being hunted. Don’t accept gifts from smiling strangers, especially if that gift is a necklace. You see, Samhain is upon us, and some who celebrate mark their chosen offerings with trinkets.
Your eyes haven’t deceived you, the scarecrows have changed positions. In this place they conspire against you. At this time of year they serve ancient gods with dark needs. If you fall you just may join their ranks.
The corn was healthy and strong this year, but a price must be paid for such bounty. There is no life without death. There is no escaping the pacts made long ago. For every stalk of corn in this place there is a tale of woe.
Don’t let your story end in this soil.
