The Sins of Salem clan area is built to resemble a small provincial town isolated from the rest of civilization, upon which a terrible curse has been cast. Every room, from the broken stone-paved streets to the crumbling buildings, and weeded park, plagued with wild poisonous vines and vegetation that is neither vibrant with life nor entirely dead, but seems to be transfixed in a state of in between. Only the church dedicated to the god of dreams seems to bare color in an otherwise dismal ghost town, though even this hosts rather bazaar creatures, who's appearance and nature once both puzzled and frightened the town's inhabitants. however nothing can long outlive and outclass, in matters of oddity and terror which have long shattered the borders of normality, the dark magic hanging over the town. Only in their houses do the inhabitants feel safest, for no uninvited entity can enter the sanctity of a home.
At the center of town stand the gallows, and though over a century's passed since their final use, their presence serves to remind those who's eyes fall upon the sight, of the sins of those who've come before. At each corner of the square stand four old and weatherworn buildings, one of which is barred, and a heavy metal chain secures the heavy iron door shut. The torture chamber. The chapel, tavern, and town hall, above which is the town treasury, are the only other buildings in sight of the square. To the south lies Pickering Wharf, a long stretch of sand passing for a beach where gray, foaming waves roar and beat upon the shore, washing up small rocks and algae, and remains of dead or dying things. To the far north, up on a hill overlooking the town lies Old Burying Point, where the remains of many a dead witch lay exposed, some bone, others specks of ash refusing to scatter with the wind. Only Charter path separates them from the people below, the children, and children's children of those who'd put them there. To the west of town lies Salem park, suffocated by weeds and wild-growing vines, tangling and twining around every non natural object in sight, as though attempting to eliminate the stain of the sinners among them by hiding or eradicating their articles of sacrilege. Only the ancient oak tree at the center of the grounds stands tall, towering over the grotesque vegetation. Nobody knows what lies to the east, for no one dares to venture there. It is the path to the forest separating Salem from the rest of the world. What ever lies beyond the border, only one thing is certain. The darkness does not reach it. All that is without, remains untouched. But all that is within, both living and otherwise, is cursed, left to waste away within their crumbling, yet undying confines, forever stained by the Sins of Salem.