Swirling mist kisses an abandoned fishing village on the edge of a massive, stinking lake. Twoleg cabins that were once pristine and well-kept now sit in various states of disarray. Rotting wood barely hangs on by rusted nails, and cotton beds have long since been eaten by moths. Old boats in a similar fashion of decay sit on the lake's beaches, half sunk in the water and home to all sorts of horrid water insects. Somehow among all of this, cultists have made their home.