In the early days, many would-be heroes and chosen ones passed through the fort; their pitiful valour mere sustenance for the darkness that is the forest. Later, condemned souls, the indentured dead who still drew breath came; a garrison in abeyance of their sentence’s execution fed the cruel waters and catacombs beneath with their cowardice. However, some come freely, seeking not to serve the whim of royalty, nor to escape the mercy of the noose, but to embrace the bountiful malevolence beyond the shimmering portal. They seek not to oppose the baleful purpose of Moonshadow, but instead to become a part of it.
Such cultists, while uncommon, are a rot that festers with unusual rapidity in the dismal confines of the benighted fort. Each seeks, in some way, to open the fort to that which lurks without, to finally end the tortuously slow failure of this ill-advised outpost. From them comes a glass offered freely concealing a heavy price, a promise of aid misappropriated by the mortal denizens of the barracks, whispers of desire that are but half-truths hiding darker needs, and the promise of escape indeed fulfilled in all too final a way. However, the forces that pass for justice within the fort are not without their own corruption, and the final excuse came when runes were found marred; runes requiring a terrible price for their restoration.
Within this nest of paranoid plotting, and fearful distrust, trials are swift, sentences uttered beyond abeyance, with a cruel and desperate courage known only to those with a noose about their neck. A rune is carved, save for the final stroke, a chisel bound amid the broken fingers of the condemned, a hammer blow delivered willingly to end their torment as it steals that which made them men. Those suspected of service to Moonshadow feed the runes that they are accused of seeking to undo, their lives reinforcing the righteousness of those who rendered their sentences. They would, perhaps, feel less righteous did they know that marred souls make a far better gateway than marred runes, such is the true goal of the cult lurking amidst the executioners.