A Dusty Place to Nowhere

In a small town on the edge of nowhere odd events have been popping up. Usually the most interesting thing to happen in this town is the train running through. It never stops, it never slows, just passes through its way north and south four times a week like clockwork. Besides that the only connection to the rest of the world and out the Blackmoors is a ramshackle road to the next town over.   The town is small enough that everyone knows everyone else. So it's noticed when someone rolls into town—especially when that someone is cloaked head to toe with no visible skin. They came and went quickly, passing by like a spectre.   Then a fog rolled in. Thick and obscuring. It hasn't gone for weeks now even in the height of the midday sun. The train keeps passing, clearly heard in the dim and seen with the swirling mist. Then with a coursing flash through the town an explosion is heard about a mile off and the train doesn't pass on time.