What began as a well intentioned expedition, noble purpose and heroic enterprise, has become a blighted disaster. The once brave heroes who came to this place are no longer paragons of virtue. One noble man, hearing of the fate of his fellows, took upon himself to gease of finding the underlying cause. His aim, to provide a cure. He arrived alone, robed in white, his eyes blazing with holy purpose.
All those who come find themselves drawn to something within, a seemingly innocuous vice; a harsh word without justification, the petty sadism in over-salting of another's food, or stealing a trifle, or a brazen interest in another. These vices show themselves in all, no matter how pure they were before entering.
The first sign of his corruption was a certain degree of blasphemy; a curse upon the gods who had guided him here. Soon he began to seek others more steadfast in their faith, gently peeling back the layers of their conviction; later he would peel back their nails unless they recanted their faith. As we burned him he screamed forth one last bitter curse - "where there is light, there is shadow; and here shadows grow till they consume the light".