Posted byon September 29, 2019.
Last updated byon September 29, 2019.
Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.
TRANSMIT - initiate Transylvania signal - RECEIVE - initiate the Strigidae syntax - THE OWLS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM - initiate the geological mnemonics frequency - WITNESS - Iazmăciune.
Speak, sweetling. Read the word and say it aloud. Say the word that not even the bravest children of Harbabureşti speak on a high summer day.
We shiver. Say it again.
Sometimes we lament the lack of flesh to thrill to goose pimples. Oh, the myriad pleasures of meat. Speak the name again and we will be there.
We fly to Bacaş County - west of the church and graveyard - in a small forest valley, we perch in the ruins of an old village. Everything is a shambles, uninhabited for years sharp enough to carve a stone. Despite the fade into oblivion, we can still see the phantom of past glory. In the night, shadows and moonlight playfully chase one another. Strange lights. Ominous sounds. The ignis fatuus bewitches the jelly eyes of you fleshlings, and the village appears in its former beauty, built up and inhabited. Believe not the illusion.
The folk of Harbabureşti avoid this place. They call it Iazmăciune - "evil place" - when they dare to call it at all. Names have power, sweetling. Names are the most focused application of wind. To call something is to invite an answer. Parents warn children to stay away from those ruins. The children obey, but not for fear of a lashing.
Even forbidden names spread stories. Stories of wicked spirits and restless shades trailing the streets seeking revenge or redemption. Tales of a vicious duality, a battle between good and evil that replays every night after sunset, in endless loop. All say whosoever steps into the doomed village will unwillingly take part in that battle.
Grown men pale and swear that they visited the swamps near the village and saw, reflected in the water, dead men hanging from the trees. Yet when they look up, the branches are empty, and the caws of crows and ravens tell no tales.
But carrion birds whisper their secrets to us, sweetling. It is part of a pact we made, in the long ago, when we traded them dominion to eat the dead. But that is another story entirely.
Some claim the village is the neutral grounds of monsters, a place where vampires, werewolves, and worse meet to divide territories and soft, warm prey.
Still others, those who dislike the Romany, point their fingers and blame the "damn gypsies and their curses" for the evil of the old village. The travelling folk have little to say about the ruins, though their faces contort in anger and fear at the mention of the ghost village's history.
So everyone, Romanian and Romany alike, stay away. No one in Harbabureşti remembers much of the ruined village, not even its original name. Yet secrets surface, and the enigmatic Cucuvea reluctantly shares what ravens and crows will not.
nitiate the secret histories.
The Templar knights once had an interest in this area, when they passed through on their way to the crusades. But it was not until the rule of Vlad III that the village reached its prime. The Son of the Dragon ruled the village benevolently, save for some object lessons to lawbreakers that, in time, would build the legend of "Vlad the Impaler." The Ottomans came, as did darker forces, and all were repelled, and the village people lived well under Vlad's rule - if only for a short time.
When Vlad Dracula fled in 1462, the villagers and the Romany were the first victims of the new vampire queen. The streets ran red, but they did not stay red. We watched the undead lick every inch clean.
Vlad eventually returned with Octavian, Cucuvea, and the Romany, marshalling their allies for a final push against the vampires. At the cost of Vlad's life, they destroyed the fiends, and the vampire queen herself fled the valley, with the Romany in determined pursuit.
In the aftermath, Cucuvea laid a curse on the village, binding its evils to the soil so that it might never leave. And there it remains - all of that concentrated, wicked intent soaked into the earth. If you call the name Iazmăciune, sweetling, it might answer.
The Besieged Farmlands 985,350
On top of one of the walls of the ruined Our Lady Monastery. Go up and around starting at the nearby ruined wall (990,335).
The Besieged Farmlands 1285,365
Against a wall in the back of Our Lady Monastery (Lair: The Dread Retreat).
The Shadowy Forest 390,835
On a small tunnel near the front of the Ruins of Iazmăciune. Jump from the pots near Sergei the Potter to the small shingled roof right above it and then walk from the nearby building ruins past wooden scaffolding.
The Shadowy Forest 250,740
On an archway against the southern wall of the Ruins of Iazmăciune. Hop down from the wooden walkway above.
The Shadowy Forest 250,830
Up a small set of stairs within the middle of the Ruins of Iazmăciune.
The Shadowy Forest 380,950
By the entrance to the northern tunnel that runs along the city wall in the Ruins of Iazmăciune.
The Shadowy Forest 300,740
On rocks against the outside wall of the Ruins of Iazmăciune. Jump to the nearby wall from the breach (285,740) at the edge of Iazmăciune and then go around to the outcrop.
The Shadowy Forest 280,275
On ruined walls outside the Ruins of Iazmăciune. Drop down from the above tower parapet.
The Shadowy Forest 480,900
Along the wall of the bridge from Hatchet Falls leading into the Ruins of Iazmăciune.