While stories of the sea and its secrets pass along every coast in Avistan, the shores of massive Lake Encarthan prove little different, with traders and fisherfolk spreading tales of strange things lurking beneath the murky waves.

The austere town of Thrushmoor marks the northernmost point of the vast lake, and though its sheltered docks and well-used fishing dories suggest nothing more than a community of hardworking seafarers, the town’s elders make the spiral of Pharasma over their hearts as they swear weird currents carry all that’s strange and unnatural into the depths of Avalon Bay.

Whipped by frequent storms and rough seas, the old town looks worn and rugged, no amount of care or paint erasing the wear upon the spume-blasted docks and mossy quays. While the homes and structures upon the lake show the damage of lashing waves and frequent flooding, those on the higher ground – the territory of the town’s “quality” – posture as the homes of wealthy landowners, with pristine picket fences, sharp gables, and columned facades. While few in Thrushmoor are truly wealthy, the townsfolk go to great lengths to keep up appearances.

At some point, the piety and unity one typically finds in fishing communities went sour in Thrushmoor. Although daily devotions are still offered to Pharasma for bounteous catches and safe returns, such prayers ring hollow among a congregation more concerned with their seating in church and whose family presents the finest appearance. Standing, respectability, and abstemious lifestyles concern most of the townfolk, who do all they can to avoid embarrassment and the critical eyes of their neighbors. Yet in the shadows of attics and basements languish the sins and repressions of Thrushmoor, where deranged children, possessed artists, and the adherents of unnameable gods form an uncounted population of freaks and lunatics just beneath the town’s mask of propriety.


Pathfinder - Carrion Crown IanHoulihan