The wanderer had been travelling for ages when he came upon a lush forest on the banks of a river in the mountains. Crystals emerged from the ground, his heart was at peace, he felt he had returned home. His cottage did not stand alone for long, as more travellers felt the need to settle in that land, and more and more people took the news of Noctenburg around the world. The people did not know they had come to a special place, it was only as they walked through the woods that they noticed the breeze bringing songs, stepping on runes freshly drawn in the mud, and owls looking down on them as if they were not simple birds.
The town grew richer, its buildings mushroomed, and the hospital and town hall were soon built alongside the mill and workshops. But beside the respectable people, something seemed to attract the freaks, especially around October, when the locals dared not go out into the woods after dark because of the strange flames that haunted the passers-by.
Curiosity, of course, is a supernatural force, so there was always someone who would venture closer and talk to the mysterious folks, who would welcome them warmly, curing their long-standing illnesses by unusual methods. Others, however, were more inclined to hate the strange folk, and it didn’t take much to send Hunters out into the woods and drive them from their land by force of law. They could not have known that the mighty Septima had been living here before the wanderer had first taken up his staff.