The Legend

In December of 1863, the Battle of Bean Station was fought. Among the 1,600 casualties was a young corporal named Joseph Pickett, only son of local farmers Jubal and Eliza Pickett. After being brought to the field hospital hastily set up at Langley Manor, on the same property where he had played as a child, Joseph soon succumbed to his injuries. This was tragedy enough for his grieving parents, but what followed would haunt this area for over a century: Joseph’s remains were not properly identified, and his body was consigned to the mass grave of unknowns near the family barn.

When Jubal and Eliza came to collect their son for a proper burial, the error was discovered. The Picketts howled with grief and rage, but neither the army nor local authorities would allow them to disinter the mass grave to search for Joseph’s body. However, it was said that in the following months, the couple would venture out at night to search the grave by the barn in the vain hope of finding him.

Finally, the war ended. Jubal and Eliza’s obsessive grief did not. Once friendly to any and all who might come their way, the Picketts were now openly hostile to visitors and passers-by. Soon, people learned to avoid the Pickett farm entirely. Rumors occasionally circulated about traveling salesmen and drifters going missing on their way through Avondale… rumors no one ever thought to link to the growing number of “scarecrows” in Jubal’s fields.

Ultimately, the Picketts were forgotten, and it was assumed that the old farm had been abandoned. But that kind of evil leaves scars on a community… scars that don’t easily fade. The curse of Avondale Hollow was far from over. And when the Blackwell Traveling Circus came to town a few years later, people soon realized that the darkness in Avondale was far worse than they had ever imagined.

Amos Blackwell’s carnival was about what you’d expect from a backwater traveling circus – overpriced tickets, unconvincing attractions, and staff with haunted stares that sent shivers down your spine. But in the kind of isolated, rural communities where Amos did most of his business, standards for entertainment were a whole lot lower. Things were going well for the Blackwell Carnival, for the most part. Business was good, the patrons were happy, and the occasional accident was easily covered up by greasing the right palms. You see, Amos had something of a good luck charm to help him out. Or rather, someone: his fortune teller, Madame Silviana.

Unlike the other acts in the carnival, Madame Silviana wasn’t just a second-rate performer. She had traveled to the states all the way from Romania, and her show was more than just tricks and illusions. Now, old Amos was far too cynical to believe in any of that hogwash, but even he couldn’t deny that his luck had been steadily improving since Silviana had joined the circus. The wagons didn’t break down as much, the town officials were more agreeable, and problem customers seemed to just… disappear. Whatever the case, he knew that Silviana had been good for business, so when she insisted on taking the Blackwell Carnival to a little community in the middle of nowhere called Avondale, Amos was inclined to listen.

Now, as you might have guessed, Silviana was no mere fortune teller. She was descended from a long line of powerful witches, and she’d brought her unholy knowledge of spells and dark rituals with her across the ocean. No one knew quite why she’d decided to join old Amos’ little carnival, but when she sensed the evil in Avondale Hollow, she was drawn to it like a moth to the flame.

When Amos couldn’t get a permit to setup the Blackwell Carnival in town, he wasn’t worried; he’d made do with far worse, and Silviana had never steered him wrong before. Unfortunately for him, Avondale Hollow was where his luck ran out. Shortly after he set up the show, the Pevine Railroad shut down, leaving him stranded. Worse yet, rumors began swirling around town that children who visited the carnival were vanishing under mysterious circumstances… rumors that seemed to point right at Amos Blackwell. Broke, desperate, and hounded by angry townsfolk, Amos left in the middle of the night, abandoning his carnival for good.

Even with the owner gone, the carnival remained standing, a rusty old specter haunting that lonely field. Many of the clowns and performers left to find employment elsewhere, but more than a few lingered, with some taking up residence in the old Pickett family barn nearby. Madame Silviana was never seen again, but after a few years, tales began to spread of an old witch who lived back in Avondale Hollow, casting strange hexes on unfortunate travelers. Some claimed that she was alone, while others swore that she had two young daughters who carried on the family legacy. A new evil had come to Avondale, and the dark curse that started with the Picketts continued to spread.