thallowdale | Premise

If I have to be who I was —
(you're not)
— do I have to be who I am?

here are various ways to appear in Thallowdale. One may find oneself, quite abruptly, in a bed not their own — a grand four-poster thing in a fancy, old-fashioned manor house, with a window in the room that overlooks an intricate garden. Visitors wash up on the nearby beach sometimes, good and naked, limbs feeling decidedly noodly as though they didn’t have any bones in them a few moments previous. There are even those who awaken in a coffin, and are obliged to ring the safety bell to let the keeper of the graveyard know that there has been a rather serious mistake.

Regardless, everyone who comes to Thallowdale arrives with the distinct sensation of waking up. Not from a dream, but into one, for all that it all feels far more real than a dream has any right to be. It adds a certain sense of peace to the situation. It's difficult to work up a proper panic over being spirited away to a strange new world when one just knows somehow that one will be where they're supposed to be in the end.

Since that's the case, may as well take advantage of the situation, right?

A bit of exploration reveals that the realm is far more intricate than it first appears, with everything from a storybook town in the valley to a spooky haunted castle looming in the distance. It's a world of fanciful whimsy where there's bound to be something for everyone, no matter how long or short their stay. But those who are particularly sensitive may pick up on a certain feeling of longing running underneath it all -- a sense of loneliness that all the magic running rampant in the place just can't quite soothe. Perhaps turning to other visitors here and having a little adventure or three will alleviate that, for a time.

And, reigning over it all, there is the witch.