Riverhaven has the distinction, or perhaps infamy is a better word, of being the location of the most haunted site of known Elanthia. The sorrowful tale of the last Dunshade Baron is a tragic story of misplaced jealousy and wickedness. That a man could stoop so low as the Baron did was to me an inconceivable notion until I walked the terror-stained halls of the Dunshade Manor.

If you would wish to measure the callowness of your soul, I challenge you to step through the looking glass and experience the horror firsthand. If you break free with a heart untouched by the images within, by the tear-wrenching events displayed as you watch as a helpless and ephemeral spirit...if you manage this, I would claim you not to be of the living races.

The Dunshade Manor stands like a wooden obelisk of evil, casting its cold shadow upon the surrounding streets of Riverhaven. It calls like to like, and the walls between this world and the afterlife have grown thin within its halls. Do not expect to see your loving ancestors within, for the Manor's spiritual evil taints every unrestful ghost that wanders the rooms with malefic hate. It should be rendered unto ashes if not for the fear that the evil within would somehow escape the fires to corrupt the entire town.

Over the last few days, I have been making exploratory forays into its dusty interior. The Dunshade Manor's lawn is populated by purulent Corpse Grubs, sure sign of the negative emotions that have soaked into the very ground. The parasites are well bloated, but even their insatiable hunger is no match for the evil within the building, so they do not venture from the exterior landscape.

The first floor is the safest, although no one place within the mansion should be considered free from danger. As an explorer, I felt the house was merely biding its time until I let down my guard. The kitchen, den, and hallway have all been looted by those uncaring of the black taint they may be carrying out with them. Only those items of weight, and I speak as much of spiritual weight as physical, remain. A lonesome portrait of the Baroness, a desk, a locked and mysterious hutch. These things that even the most greedy of thieves would not dare touch for their sense of cold presence.

The second floor is where the evil begins to coalesce into tangible shapes. Tortured Souls wander the long hall and rooms, looking to rend any of the living they find. They are tenacious, uncaring of their own pain, for what more can be done to creatures who have imbibed so deeply of agony? These vague shades resemble the outline of members of the living races, all their substance centered upon the teeth and claws they use to attack. Perhaps they are not truly evil, but nothing can be done to ease their torment but to release them back to shadows.

They carry nothing with them, these mournful shades, for their spirits seem to lack the will power of the darker undead. Upon very rare occasion, a Tortured Soul will bring a pebble with it from the Starry Path it wanders. These stones possess the power to reflect the worth of any soul attuned with holy energy, Paladins in particular. In my experience, I have never found one, although I have seen Praise pull two from their shadowy hands. Perhaps it takes the truly blessed to discover these Soulstones.

From the second floor, steep steps rise into the Manor's attic. Divorce yourself of the opinion that the higher you go, the closer to the light of the Starry Path you come. Within the attic lurk undead shadows, black souls in the shape of Dark Fiends. They are large, looming shades that have coaleseced into the shape of shadow-garbed warriors. The weapons and armor they bear are solid enough, but turn to vapors even as the Fiends are vanquished. Perhaps we should be happy that such foul and sulphurous material does not contaminate us any further. Only the red, glowing eyes of the Dark Fiend dictates any passing emotion. They search, looking into your very soul to seek the least misdeed in order to pounce upon you. They gain strength through such weaknesses, I suspect, and use them to pull you down to the darkness.

What substance do shadows possess? Despite the confines of the attic space, one can be easily swarmed by the large amorphous forms. They fight approximately as well as swamp trolls, though if they catch you without a blessed weapon, the conclusion is sure to be grim. We would trade shots frequently, but my armor was made of sterner material than their own. I faced three, and though unbalanced by the repetition of their blows, managed to send each back to wander the netherspace they sprang from. Only a few baubles and coins were left behind....perhaps the reason why they were held to this earthly plane?

I descended from that soul-barren attic and took again to the streets to find company among the living. There is still the basement left to explore, and for that battle I would look for good companions. I knew what beasts awaited me down below, and did not relish the idea of falling alone if the worst occured.

Though I would wish to be quit of this foul place, I will return to the Dunshade Manor on the morrow. There are still mysteries to be uncovered, Good Reader...