There was a Beggar he was starring at me as if he is going to kill me but as I get nearer and nearer I found out his resisting something I don't know what but his really resisting something something un explainable and then I saw a knife on his hand and I though his going to kill me but when he raises the knife and then he stoped and said "run child" that I knew his resisting himself' his blood thirsty self, to stop, to stop killing people at the other day when I go were he was I saw him lying DEAD! and I saw a knife stabed strait throught the heart and that knife was the one he tried to stab on me last day and I knew he KILLED HIMSELF because its the only way to get out of his problems...
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.