Alignment: Chaotic Evil
In the village of Darrowshire, in what is now the Eastern Plaguelands, a house stood abandoned at the edge of town for years before the arrival of the scourge. The villagers were careful to avoid it, and it’s existance was rarely spoken of, and only then in hushed tones.
According to local legend, the house had once belonged to a normal family. A mother, loving husband, and their two children who, from all outward appearance was perfectly happy. Until one fateful day that is, when after months of building paranoia and suspicion, the wife discovered her “loving husband’s” affair with the local tavern girl.
Nobody exactly knows why what happened next occoured. Perhaps the woman suffered a complete mental and psychotic break, or perhaps she was consumed by heartbreak and desire for vengence. The only thing that is known for sure is that she took her two young children to the nearby river and drowned them both with her own hands, holding their small thrashing bodies under the surface until they grew still.
When the horrified husband made the grisly discovery of what his wife had done, he ran into the center of town, cradling the bodies of his still dripping wet children in his arms, and howling in the street with dispair. A posse was quickly formed and the woman brought before the magistrate, where she was sentanced to hang for her crime.
As the hangman tied the noose and put the itchy black hood over her head, the woman unnervingly continued giggling with madness at something unseen by those who had turned out to see justice done. It was only once the bottom dropped from the gallows, and the rope snapped tight that the unsettling laughter stopped.
In the weeks that followed, the husband became a vagrant, leaving the house and fields to fall to disrepair, and soon succumbed to the effects of alcholism and grief. The house stood abandoned following his death, and soon, stories of strange occourances began.
Villagers reported seeing a pale ghostly figure staring out of windows, and the few who dared enter reported feelings of dread, cold spots, disembodied voices, and objects moving on their own. The sound of the eeire laughter was heard and some were left with deep scratches from unseen hands.
Over the years, the locals learned to avoid the place, and the woman’s unspoken name was lost to time. The villagers began refferring to the sinister presence simply as “Jynxx”.