In the mystical fog-laden woods of the Pacific Northwest, where gnarled oaks whisper secrets and moonlight weaves ghostly threads through tangled branches, the Coven of the Iron Goat lurks in shadows. Born in the early 20th century, when whispers of old magic stirred the air, this sisterhood was forged by Elara Voss, a formidable witch whose lineage traced back to the shadowed hearths of Salem. Elara gathered outcasts—women cast aside by a world that feared their gifts—binding them with a shared hunger for power beyond mortal reach. Their devotion was to Baphomet, the Iron Goat, a demon of duality, weaving forbidden knowledge with creation and ruin. Their lair, a hidden network of enchanted clearings deep in the forest, pulses with protective charms and curses, a sanctuary where moonlight fuels rituals to summon spectral sentinels—demonic guardians that seize trespassers for their grim altar.

The coven’s magic hinges on five Ancient Stones of Binding—fire, air, earth, spirit, and water—sacred relics that harness elemental forces to temper their perilous spells, shielding the sisters from their own conjured infernos. Their legend grew fearsome in the 1940s, when Elara secured The Blood of Apophis, a cursed ruby steeped in darkness, its origins tied to a Chicago murder in 1935. Smuggled through occult black markets, the ruby became the heart of their altar, its crimson glow amplifying their rites. With it, they summoned mightier sentinels and bound souls in torment, offerings to Baphomet’s insatiable will. Yet the ruby’s power was a cruel master, demanding ceaseless blood sacrifices and plaguing the witches with visions of a serpentine void, a darkness that gnawed at their minds and sowed distrust among them. Wanderers lost in the woods became their prey, lured by eerie tales only to feed the ruby’s hunger.

By the 1960s, the ruby’s curse fractured the coven. A rebellious faction, fearing its corrupting pull, conspired with outsiders—perhaps heirs to the ruby’s tragic past—to steal it. The gem was spirited back to its ancient Egyptian tomb, a desperate bid to bury its evil. Bereft of their relic, the coven crumbled, their lair abandoned as the sisters scattered into obscurity, their once-mighty rites reduced to whispers.

Today, the Coven of the Iron Goat rises anew under the enigmatic Veiled Matron. Reclaiming their woodland sanctum, they draw on the ruby’s lingering spiritual echo, a dark residue that fuels their altar despite the gem’s absence. They ensnare unwary hikers to offer up to Baphomet. The Ancient Stones remain their key, wielded to banish or invoke the ruby’s shadow. As the witches slip into the forest for ritual ingredients, their lair lies briefly unguarded. Captives, facing the hourglass’s relentless sands, must seize the stones to defeat the sentinel and flee the ruby’s tainted grasp. A crystal ball offers cryptic guidance, its visions warped by dark enchantments. In this haunted wood, where Baphomet’s gaze burns, mercy is a forgotten spell—only the cunning escape the Iron Goat’s embrace.