The Ghosts of Gildenvale

The people of Gildenvale -at least those who are left- live in fear of the night. As soon as the sun sets, windows are closed, curtains are pulled shut, and families cook food and play music until they are able to sleep. This has been the practice for centuries, ever since rumors about the end of the world started circling around. 
If you ask the people of Gildenvale, they will usually tell you it's just a way to bond with your family. However, if you ask someone who is old enough to remember the early days of the practice, you'll hear stories of blood magic, sacrifices, demons, and zombies. What happens there is unclear, largely because visitors who are not just there to trade often do not come back. It is surrounded by a dense forest, so maybe they are just getting lost, but the pattern points to something much more sinister going on...

Summary

The story goes that the people of Gildenvale, unable to make the journey to Ballustrade and unwilling to leave their neighbors, turned to dark forces in order to preserve their people. They traded worship for safety, holding opulent parties every night in honour of a dark god in exchange for protection from invaders and the rifts that were opening around the continent. They remained safe, but over time found that people started going missing. Fearing that their deal had been broken or forgotten, the town convened and agreed to stop holding the celebrations that night. Despite this, they still heard music and smelled roasting meats and ale coming from the center of the town. A few people ventured out and found the most impressive feast they had ever seen in front of them. They danced, drank, ate, and reveled right until the morning, at which time the music finally stopped. The scene that the residents of Gildenvale who had remained in their houses found when they opened their doors was truly terrible. Every person who had taken part in the festivities was either standing still, eyes staring lifelessly into the distance, or were wandering around asking for help. Neither group was responsive when spoken to or touched, as if their minds were elsewhere throughout their experience.
They tried for days to save the mindless victims wandering the town, each night losing more to the sounds and smells of the festivities, but after three nights, they finally stopped moving. That night, the screams of every lost soul were heard by every member of the community. They screamed until their vocal chords gave out and their bodies gave out beneath them. Perhaps even more troubling than the people, however, was what was left in the tavern. Blood dripped from the walls and ceiling, furniture was upturned, and there was a large gilded chest in the center, covered in spiral symbols. Inside that chest they found a horde of gold, tools, and fine clothes with which they were able to build up their town.
Roughly 250 years later, the stories of that night still haunt the people of Gildenvale. They play music and cook fragrant food to keep themselves distracted from the sounds an smells outside and lock their doors until the morning. The less friendly members of the community even go as far as tricking visitors into wandering the streets or staying in the tavern at night in a belief that the dark forces at work will take them and provide more riches in return.

Historical Basis

At the dawn of what nearly everyone believed to be the end of the world, the people of Gildenvale were scared. The council that governed the town convened and discussed how they could protect themselves against the new threats. No solution given was ideal, but it soon became clear that they would have to ask for help from a higher power. They pleaded with every god they knew to be friendly to mortals, but found no answer in return. Finally, they reached out to anyone who would listen and found a patron willing to help protect them. It came in the form of a young man, eager to provide support if they were willing to throw a festival in the name of a lesser known god of chaos called Zitnuhdra. This, of course, was an anagram for Tharizdun, the Chained God of the Abyss. This fact was never revealed to the people of Gildenvale, but they continued to follow the rules they were given for decades.

Spread

As people gradually left the area surrounding Gildenvale left, fewer and fewer knew about the legend surrounding the town. Now, only the people themselves and the few trading partners they allow in are aware that something has been going on. Very few of those people, including the residents, know whether the stories are true.