This closed recruitment is restricted to those who have received invitations to apply - Eric Swanson, Chobo, LadyGrayRose, Gerald and Harakani.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I bid you welcome… once more, to the Blight.
It’s Clark Ashton Smith and China Miéville, Lovecraft and Dickens, Shelley and Carroll all in a festering brew of toil, tears, and injustice just screaming for heroes to clean up the streets (more likely to die — or worse — trying) or anti-heroes to clean up the streets (or, at least, a little corner in which to set up their own rackets). Castorhage is a city that never sleeps but is never fully awake, living in the shadow of its own dark dream. An insane royalty, a corrupt judiciary, a decadent aristocracy, and a half-living proletariat all jumbled together amid a thousand thousand monsters…some of them not even of the human variety.
…and the unlovely name by which Castorhage is known to those who have the misfortune to scratch out an existence within its darkest, dankest and most terrible districts? …the Blight.
The Crooked Nail
For decades, Theatre Infernalis offered shocking and frightful entertainment to customers who entered its gaping demonic facade and saw a frightful portrait of the eternal tormants that await all sinners. Now rumours tell of the ageing and supposedly cursed proprietor’s deteriorating health and the theatre’s impending sale, and the Artist’s Quarter has been abuzz with those seeking one final fright with a walk through the crucible-licked walls of the infernal house of the macabre before its final curtain call.
But are the theatre’s smoke-and-mirrors and cheap scares hiding a truly wicked secret?
What is the nature of the curse and illness that afflict the owner?
And did foul and profane rites once take place between its walls that outside forces now seek to exploit?
What happens when the spookshow’s fun and games transform into a terrifying reality, threatening to spill forth an infernal malevolence onto the streets of the Blight?
