Rosti Quill presents

Old Gods of Appalachia is a horror anthology podcast, and therefore may contain material

not suitable for all audiences, so listen to discretion is advised.

Winter in Appalachia is one of the most beautiful ways that a man could ever die.

The silence of a snow-covered mountain top is breathtaking in more than a few ways.

You see, the mountains of the Comberlin will present you like an altar to a slate and death-colored sky.

The wind knows your name, but it only speaks it when you have no more need of it.

The cold of that December is a slow seduction of crystallizing respirations that fills the

body with a white burning numbness. This frozen purgatory, this middle hill, this

cellar where a body is set so a spring thaw can return it to the earth. Well, this is

where Timothy Van Over, the logon camp turned in Cipian town of Yellow Oak, found

himself on the day after Christmas in 1821. Brother Tim, still spried, keen of eye at the

Ropped Old Age of 27, had been hunting, trying to clear his head from a disoriented few days.

He had not counted on the snow picking back up much less a second full-on storm, but

when all was said and done, it had blown through the pain of the world, a blinding shade

of heaven that erased all track, and would have spun the compass of the most seasoned traveler.

Tim Van Over was not the world's most seasoned traveler. In fact, the hated traveler,

hated wandering in these woods, forging and hunting for food when the supply wagons were delayed

by snow. He only come here on the behest of his father-in-law to beat now his father-in-law,

in fact, to scout a potential logon territory. He had done the initial outlay in return to New

York, and as a reward been allowed to Mary, Albert Dunnoway's daughter Clara. Then he returned

here without her to get things up and running along with her and know it all brother-in-son,

...