Halloween is rolling around for 2023, and once more we’re starting to see region designs marking the time of year pop-up, whether along “traditional” Halloween settings with pumpkins and a light touch of ghostliness and spookiness, or with a deep footing in horror and / or bloodthirsty goings-on. As such, it is often hard to choose particular regions and locations to cover; after all, when you’ve seen one pumpkin patch, you’ve seen them all, regardless of whether or not they feature a small boy with a blanket steadfastly awaiting the gift-giving arrival of a mythical creature. However, there are exceptions.
For example, the annual Halloween regions delivered to the grid by Ty and Truck and the team at Calas Galadhon (of which I’ll have more in the near future) or – for this article, the realm of Witherwood Thicket, the latest Frogmore instalment from the imaginations of Frogmore owner Tolla Crisp and her companion-in-building, Dandy Warhlol (terry Fotherington).
A Gothic Tale told in shades and shadows upon an English Moor, inspired by works of Edgar Allen Poe.
– Witherwood Thicket About Land description
The above description does much to sum this setting up, providing sufficient information to inform visitors they are about to enter a world edged in mystery-horror; one with a slant towards the English moorlands (take your pick, we have a fair number which are all known for their outstanding beauty and wilderness feel, starting far down in the West Country and then scattered all across England (as well as Scotland and Wales also having their shares of equally enchanting moorlands). However, it also leaves more than enough unsaid to practically demand a visit.
Whilst it is an American master of the of the macabre mentioned within the region’s About Land description, the broad strokes of some parts of Witherwood Thicket might bring to mind images of mist-filled nights deep within the mires of Dartmoor, and the tall, slender form of Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes leading Nigel Bruce’s Dr. John Watson as they attempt to track a certain demonic hound. At the same time a certain part of the setting might have some imaginations edging towards thoughts of Tolkien, whilst throughout are elements of horror, the occult and monsters which might well give H.P. Lovecraft a reason to smile.
Which is not to say the region is in any way mishmash; far from it. Everything here has been well placed, with multiple buildings dressed to encourage visitors to step inside, with the passage around the region nicely set to present something of a visual narrative – although precisely what the story within it might be is left up to our imaginations.
Beyond this ancient structure, the land rolls inwards to a second arched gateway flanked by defensive towers, the path between the two bordered by the skeletal ranks of trees either side and they stand-in for any curtain walls which may have – if the imagination runs that way – between gatehouse and gateway. Once through the third arch, the path become further hemmed in on either side by a tall crop of something or other watched over by a scarecrow as spooky as the watcher standing guard over the path running from the gatehouse.
Once past the crop and its guardian, the setting becomes more moor-like (so to speak), the path turning into an unpaved road curving through a small village. Here, lights spill out from shaded windows and / or doors stand open, inviting people in. Yes there are hounds here that may not appear entirely friendly (but are hardly demonic, to return to my earlier reference!), but the houses deserve time to look inside, as each presents its own sense of mystery and / or the occult. As the road passes between them, so it reveals the looming form of a castle perched up on a hill and watching over affairs. Perhaps the old gatehouse once formed a part of its defences – or perhaps not.
The village, riven in two by the passage of a deep gully with choked waters at its bottom and best crossed by the sturdy bridges, is actually more extensive than might first appear to be the case. There is, for example, the moulding manor house to be found at the end of another rocky promontory pointing a crooked finger out to sea and, across a small bay from it and directly below the village, the crouching form of an old cabin which might look quite at home deep with America’s bayou country, giving a further little twist to the setting. There’s also the village church and graveyard and, acting like a magnetic, the castle sitting high on its rocky perch.
The castle is best reached by passing through the village and following the road as it becomes more of a trail heading back eastwards and then south to where a lighthouse rises out of the mist in impressive fashion to vie with the castle in terms of providing the highest view out over the landscape. It is here as well that the touch of Tolkien enters the imagination. Climbing the rocky incline leading up to the castle, it is hard not to look back at the lighthouse and expect to see a fiery eye staring unblinking out over the landscape as Sauron’s was said to have done from the highest point of Barad-dûr.
As for the castle, this offers its own sense of mystery. While the halls and rooms within its walls and towers are empty, its courtyard is set for some form of event – although what this might be is again left to the imagination. Then there is the second great house, no more than a stone’s throw from the lighthouse and sitting ablaze at the water’s edge, a burning ship close by. They both beg for visitors create a tale for why they are burning, be it the result of the demon on the terrace leading to the house or something else.
Rich in detail – much of it intentionally not covered here – and presented with a fitting environment setting and a soundscape heavy with the cry of crows (possibly standing-in for ravens, given the Poe reference 🙂 ), Witherwood Thicket is a place you’ve want to spend a decent amount of time exploring and which (it really goes without saying) is highly photogenic.
SLurl Details
- Witherwood Thicket (Caracus Island, rated Moderate)
Inara Pey: Living in a Modemworld 