Green Creek Shrine

Green Creek Shrine

Green Creek Shrine was founded in the year 478 on the weathered ruins of a Zorfu tribal settlement, itself built atop even older, forgotten ruins. The land held a quiet mystery, hinting at deep histories long swallowed by time and stone. In 477, the sleepy creek ran golden as hopeful prospectors panned for precious metals, sparking a fevered rush.

By 479, William and Ruth Ruble had set their mark on the veins of promise, opening the Green Creek Mine, a beacon for fortune seekers. The town grew fast, swelling to roughly 500 by 490, though many wore the dust of distant claims, coming and going with the call of new strikes in the hills. Life was hard, and the promise of gold kept the spirit stubbornly alive.

Yet, all riches wane. By 501, the veins had played out and the joyous clamour turned to silence. Green Creek Shrine began to wither. Buildings fell to the creeping forest, roads grew quiet, and the heart of the town slowed.

Two decades later, in 527, an unsettling chill swept through the town. Whispers spoke of an evil haunting the empty mine—strange lights flickering in the shafts and shadows moving where none should be. The few remaining souls, wary and wild-eyed, spoke of missing neighbors and nightly terrors rising from past greed and blood.

By 528, fear had driven the last of the stubborn residents away, abandoning homes and hearths to the dark woods. Some said the stories were only to draw pity and charity, to tempt aid, or perhaps to warn others away. But others swore they heard the mournful cries from the abandoned shafts and saw eyes watching in the darkness.

Now, Green Creek Shrine stands as a ghost town—a fading memory layered in layers of ruin, superstition, and the restless stirrings of something unquiet beneath the earth. It is a haunting puzzle piece in the Firelands, waiting for daring souls to uncover its truth, its curse, and maybe its secrets of gold beyond mere money.