The Everglades were dense, always full of mist. A thick white foggy mist settled on the ground. In these forests was a small village disconnected from the rest of society. The village of Ghostreign (Not the WoW character). Once every 100 moons (2,953 days or roughly eight years) a villager was chosen to be cast out and appease the evil god that had sent the mist down. No one had seen the god and lived to tell the tale. Villagers would make up stories about how the god looked. Some said a monster; some said a shapeshifter that used the ability to spy and avoid detection so that no mortal would see its true form. The village chief would choose an outcast from the village. A black sheep from any family no one was safe...not even those born into money.

    No one knows what the god does with these sacrifices no one dares find out on their own. The people live in constant fear of the mist that encloses their tiny village. The ones that go in never come out the same most don't come back out at all. Next week would be the 100th moon and it would be time for a new sacrifice. The day the outcast and misfits would dread. Men, women, and children alike, it did not matter no one could escape once the village chief set their sights on them. If you even looked different you would be selected. Today was the day someone would be chosen as a sacrifice. The bell tolled 3 times, and the villagers gathered in the village square. The chief stood on the large performance stage that had been set up long long ago when the town was lush and full of life.  The villagers all murmured until the chief held his hand up and spoke. "Today marks 100 moons since the last sacrifice was performed." The villagers listened intently as the chief continued. "Today we draw from the list of the ones among us that do not belong. The ones that cause us misfortune. Bring forth the box of names!" A guard quickly brought forth the box and the chief reached inside pulling a slip of paper. Everyone froze with baited breaths as they waited. The chief opened the paper his cold look faltering for a moment before quickly setting back in as he spoke to the guard in a hushed tone. "Why is my daughter's name in the box." The guard was hesitant but whispered back "The villagers decided she looked odd. Her eyes are unnatural." The chief sighed. This was tradition and as much as he disliked this, he could not disregard centuries of tradition just for his child. With a grim face he looked back at the crowd. "Our sacrifice this year will be...Vesper!" The villagers all let out a sigh of relief and the outcasts that weren't chosen cheered. Vesper stood frozen in her spot. It was her? How could they put her in the box she had been nothing but kind to her people! The chief looked over for a split second. A silent apology. The guards brought up a horse with a decorated wagon full of gifts and riches for the god. Vesper wanted to run but her legs wouldn't work. She was taken and dressed in the ceremonial gown and decorated with the symbol of the God. The gown did her no justice as it was large and made her look like a child. She was bound and tossed into the cart and the horse was led to the edge of the village before being given a sharp slap sending it running off into the forest.