DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Front of House Play-by-Post Game Studio Gauging interest in a Gothic (Dark Shadows style) Game

Agnes Vass (née Kostin) stood at the tall, warped-glass window of her chamber, her fingers clutching the worn velvet curtain as lightning carved silver veins through the sky. The sea below churned and screamed, lashed by the storm's fury like some ancient leviathan mourning its chains. Behind her, the door creaked open—then closed. Softly. Deliberately.

She did not turn.

“How long?” she whispered to the glass. “Weeks? Days? Years?”

Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from the weariness of knowing too much.

“I can feel it... it’s coming, old friend. The dark. The rot beneath the roots of our family tree.” Her voice cracked into a cough, wet and rasping, like something dredged up from a deep well. “There are... others now. In the town. Some drawn back, others on their way. The blood still calls to the bold. The bold... or the foolish.”

Her hand rose to the golden medallion around her throat, her fingers tracing it like a rosary. Her gaze no longer saw the storm. Her pupils had gone distant, caught in a memory, or perhaps a prophecy.

“Perhaps they'll be enough... perhaps they’ll break the curse.”

A pause.

“Or perhaps the curse will break them.”

Her voice was unforgiving, like the stone of the cliffs beneath her window.

She turned then, slowly, but the room behind her was empty.

“I see,” she murmured to the stillness. “No answers. As always. Just the waiting.”

And the Kostins, if nothing else, had learned how to wait.

They had watched their fortunes rise like phoenix fire and fall like shattered glass. Over centuries, they had prospered and perished by turns, cursed to walk the edge of something unseen… and unending. Again... and again... and again. A tale as old as time. Well, as old as Blackthorn Bay at least.

In 1646, five families fled Ipswich, their instincts tingling with the dread of things to come. Whispers of betrayal, theft of... something and the betryal of a sixth family. Betryal so that might make their escape with something that belonged to none of the five.

They ran north, thinking distance could spare them from fate.

They were wrong.

The land they claimed, Blackthorn Bay, had already been claimed by older things.

A failed colony had once stood there and vanished. The local Passamaquoddy warned of spirits in the cliffs, voices in the surf. But the settlers did not listen. Pride made them deaf.

Blackthorn, named for the gnarled brambles that twisted up from the cliffside like skeletal hands.

The land had never been tamed. And it did not like to be owned.

One by one, the other families paid the price.

The Burchleys, the Halecks, the Mortons, the Caines… all condemned by Judge Ambrose Kittredge, who came with the noose and left with blood on his boots.

Only the Kostins survived.

And some say that survival was the true curse.

Said to be both blessed and damned, their legacy burned bright... only to cast longer shadows.

A knock broke through Agnes’s reverie. The door opened before she could answer.

“Minister Kittredge is here,” came a soft voice. “He wants to talk about the bake sale.”

Agnes blinked. The storm was fading. The light in the room had shifted, subtly but certainly. The sea had gone still... for now.

Minister Kittredge.

Still clinging to the old name.

Still unaware, perhaps, or just in denial of what that name once did. What price that name still owed to Blackthorn Bay. It was only a matter of time, however. Blackthorn Bay never allowed any debt to go uncollected forever.

“Tell him I’ll be right down,” Agnes said.

And, as she was left alone for the moment, the medallion pulsed once, faintly warm against her skin.

A warning? A message? Perhaps a sign of comfort? All three more than likely. Her eyes skimmed over the newspaper article, Yet Another Tourist Goes Missing. Well, travel, especially to Blackthorn Bay, could be hazardous to your health.

If they only knew what truly was going on in this sleepy little New England town.

Agnes smiled, though there was little warmth in it, and headed downstairs.

Background Timeline (open for everyone to add to)

1960
The Kostin fortune dwindles. Several rooms of the manor are closed. The family no longer hosts guests.

Present Day: Blackthorn Bay 2026
Blackthorn Bay, Maine. The sea eats the cliffs, the fog clings to windows, and the house watches over the town.

But Kostin Manor has never stood empty.

Inside its walls:

Agnes Kostin, the matriarch, still lives in her candlelit wing. Reclusive and sharp as ever, she keeps long hours, speaks to only a few, and locks her bedroom at dusk. She married three times, each union ending in tragedy:

Husband 1: Harold Sinclair, a historian. Died mysteriously during renovations in 1972.

Husband 2: Malcolm Frye, a poet. Vanished at sea in 1981. Only his boots were found.

Husband 3: Gerald Vass, a psychiatrist. Found hanged in the study, doors locked from the inside, in 1993.
→ She may be the mother/grandmother of any PC characters wishing to carry the name, Sinclair, Frye, Vass or other surnames.

Elias Kostin, her brilliant but unstable younger brother, vanished in 1979, last seen muttering about “the rooms under the house”. His room remains untouched.
→ He may be the father/grandfather of any PC characters wishing to be Kostins.

Thomas Kostin, the third sibling, fled to New York in the early 1980s, severing ties with the family. Some say he feared what the house might do to him. Others say he feared what he might do to the house.
→ He may be the father/grandfather of any PC characters wishing to be Kostins.



The house groans with age, but it breathes still.
The medallion has returned.
And someone... or something... is waking.



The past of others, in town and those just 'visiting', as well as the town of Blackthorn Bay in general, have yet to be written. Those stories and histories are a complete unknown and open book.

This timeline was just a starting point.

Recruitment Pitch:
✦ Come to Blackthorn Bay ✦
A place where the fog hangs heavy, the sea whispers secrets, and every door has a story it’s trying not to tell.

Blood & Blackthorn is a gothic horror–driven, paranormal mystery RPG in the tradition of Dark Shadows, The Haunting of Hill House, and Passions. Equal parts eerie soap opera and character driven drama, this game invites you to step into the shadows of Blackthorn Bay, Maine, a town built on secrets, scars, and something older than either.

The Kostin family has lived here for centuries.

They’ve endured what others could not.

But some say the only reason they survived... is because they made a deal.

What is stalking the town? A vampire? Werewolves? Zombies, sirens, unicorns? Or something else? Visit Blackthorn Bay, what could go wrong?

Is the Kostin family center to the story, or just a background detail? That is for you to decide.



________________________________________
✦ Who Will You Be? ✦
✦ A Kostin descendant, returning to the crumbling family estate with something in your blood you can’t quite explain?

A child or grandchild of Agnes herself, born and raised here, stoutly ignoring curses, dreams, or whispers in the dark.

Maybe a child from one of her brothers, or a grandchild… something pulling you to a family home you never believed in.

✦ A townsperson, raised in the long shadow of the manor, dating a Kostin, resenting one, or maybe seeing things you shouldn't?

✦ A skeptic, a scholar, or a seeker with ties to one of the other founding families... or the secrets buried beneath the cliffs?

✦ Or someone... else? Perhaps the Kostin family needs a governess? That never ends badly, does it?


________________________________________
✦ Your Role in the Story ✦
I’ve left the doors wide open.

This game isn’t just about a pre-written legacy!!! Nope! It’s about what you bring to it.

Create new branches of the Kostin bloodline. Revive one of the other founding families. Invent a lighthouse keeper who speaks to ghosts, or a diner waitress who’s seen too much. A detective wanting to save the innocent. Want to add mysterious events that plagued the town in the '70s? A summer camp that closed after one strange night? A Civil War diary no one can explain?

Yes. Do it.

This is your story too.

In other words, add in some history, either for your character, the town, or just something that you think would be fun.

Add in extra townie characters, or visitors from out of town.

You have a basic framework, now you get to help paint that picture!



________________________________________
✦ If You Dare… ✦
Come build the mystery. Help shape the lore. Embrace the charm, the dread, and the creeping inevitability of something waking in the dark.

We’re not just telling a story.

We’re digging up what should have stayed buried.

“The past isn’t dead. It just changed its name."

I'm interested! May have to see if I can dig up the char I proposed before.

Interested

Interested. Will this be system agnostic or?

Well looks like we have four people interested, and the system will be t he Soap Opera one already in effect, it's flexible and gives an easy to play framework. It will have one or two modifications, but it's a simple "Let's play and go!" system!

Hmm, I obviously don't play in them often. Where can I find the system?

I will post the rules in the forum when it spawns. It really is quick and easy to set up characters... the hard part and the one that takes the longest for me, is coming up with the background

Heh I hear you. As much as I love making characters, that is where my time gets eaten up.