Darkest Dungeon and any and all characters in this story belong to Red Hook Studios, except the description and personality of the Heir.
"Ruin has come to our family.
You remember our venerable house, opulent and imperial; gazing proudly from its stoic perch above the moor. I lived all my years in that ancient, rumor-shadowed manor.
Fattened by decadence and luxury, and yet I tire of conventional extravagance. Singular unsettling tales suggested the mansion was a gateway to some famous and unnamable power. With relic and ritual, I bent every effort to the excavation and recovery of those long buried secrets, expending of what remained of our family fortune on swarthy workmen and sturdy shovels.
At last, in the salt-soaked crags beneath the lowest foundations, we unearthed that damnable portal of antediluvian evil.
Our every step unsettled the ancient earth, but we were in a realm of death and madness! In the end, I alone fled laughing and wailing through those blackened arcades of antiquity, until consciousness failed me.
You remember our venerable house, opulent and imperial. It is a festering abomination! I beg you return home, claim your birthright, and deliver our family,
from the ravenous clutching shadows,
of the darkest dungeon."
Return of Lady Crowe
A black clad figure sighed as she finished rereading the letter that was in her hands. Her hand tightened, ruining the piece of parchment that had arrived at her doorstep a few weeks before. She had left the family estate long ago, uninterested with how the rest of her family was using, or abusing, their wealth and status. She wanted to turn her family name into something respectable. And she had in fact done, proudly. Ever since she was a teenager, she spent over a decade of hard work and dedication to get to where she was. To be able to stand on her own, without even needing to think of the family she left behind. At least until the letter arrived.
She relaxed her hand, letting the letter free itself briefly from her clutches. She had read it many times, and still she had that gut feeling inside her. How she shouldn't be doing this. How she should've just ignored it and kept to herself, as she had done before. They were no longer her concern. Yet there was something that pulled her here. Something unimaginable. Something that was beyond her human comprehension. She scoffed, at the idea of what her uncle had brought onto himself. He was the worst of them all, a disgusting symbol of hedonism. If what he said in the letter was true, to think, that he decided to delve into the hellish art itself simply because of boredom.
She sighed again, for what felt like the umpteenth time. Of all the things she hates of her family, this wasn't really something that would clear her of any suspicion. She herself had also delved into the occult, though fortunately for her she never stooped as low as them. She brought her free hand closer to her face, seeing the marks that were on the back of her hand. As she willed it, it started to glow in an eerie blue light. In almost an instant, a crow had found itself inside the carriage she was riding, landing comfortably on her hand. She smiled, letting the crow free.
From the corner of her eye as she freed the bird, she noticed shuffling from someone sitting across her. She saw him make the sign of the cross. Expected of someone who was referred to as The Crusader. She smiled behind her veil; it was unsurprising for someone such as him to be one of the first to volunteer for this venture. And perhaps a little spark of faith might help, even if only a bit.
"Reynauld, was it?" she asked.
He coughed. "Yes, my Lady." his voice sounded rougher than she had expected, though perhaps that was partly because of the helmet he was still wearing.
"Reynauld, if you are ever troubled, you merely need to voice your concerns. My ears are open." She said softly, inviting him.
He coughed again, though not as uncomfortable as before. He made the sign of the cross again before answering her. "Thank you, my Lady."
"You shouldn't be so tense with a Noble such as her." The voice of the man sitting next to him added.
A polar opposite from the Crusader, this man looked as if he stood on the other side of the law. In fact, that is exactly what he was. When he brought himself to volunteer, the Highwayman opened himself up like a book before her. She only had one question for him that day. "Why?" Why would a Highwayman, who seemed comfortable in his life before, was eager to potentially throw away his life in what could be described as a suicide mission? His answer, was redemption. He would not divulge any more than that, and she did not feel the need to pry deeper.
She was worried that both of them would butt heads, but they got along rather amicably. Maybe they had more in common than she thought. Or maybe they know when to be professional. Either way, it works out for her.
"Forgive me, Sir Dismas, but the occult practices unnerve me." Reynauld said truthfully.
"Aye, but she's our employer. Best not to trouble her too much." He said as he cleaned out the barrel of his pistol. "'sides, Lady Crowe is a well renowned individual. I doubt she's let her practices ruin those around her." He added, nodding to the Noble.
"Thank you, Dismas." She responded.
The Crusader glanced outside the window, seeing the ever approaching hamlet below the Crowe Estate. There was an undeniable eerie feeling surging from it. Unquestionable evil. And a questionable decision for most people to be taking this quest. Not for him.
"My Lady. How far along are we?" he asked, eager to be done with this carriage.
She shook her head. "Relatively close, but the curvature of the road serpentines unnaturally."
The Highwayman loaded his pistol. "Well, we best prepare ourselves for the worst."
The Crusader nodded to the statement. "Agree" he said as he began to unsheathe his sword.
Before she herself could reply, the carriage jumped abruptly, as if it had bumped into a large rock on the road. They could feel the wheel breaking as the carriage lost control. Without needing another word, they all braced themselves for the inevitable.
The crash wasn't as bad as she had thought, though that might have been because a part of her expected that something like this occurrence would've happened. She coughed from the light aching pain her body was in. She tried to get herself out of the wreckage, but before she could make progress, she felt warm metal hold her form, carefully taking her out. It was no effort for the Crusader as he helped the Noble out of the remains of the carriage, carefully placing her on her feet.
"Thank you, Reynauld." She said, dusting off her dress. She surveyed the wreckage herself, disappointed at what had befallen the few luggages she had brought. Noticing something amiss, she turned to the Crusader. "Where is the Caretaker?"
"Looks like her ran off through the woods." Dismas answered, walking towards them. He shook his head disapprovingly. "The madness."
Reynauld peered over the wreck, looking through the dense, eerie forest. "One wonders how much he has lost to forgo everything."
"Whatever the case, we need to clear the area out." Dismas said urgently.
"Is something the matter Dismas?" the Noble asked, sensing this urgency.
Reynauld himself had turned his gaze to the path they had just taken. "It appears it wasn't by chance that some stone tipped the carriage, My Lady."
"And peering ahead, it truly appears that we have company." Dismas added.
Lady Crowe looked around her almost nervously, before steeling herself. She brought her hands up before her, allowing them to glow with the unnatural energy.
"My Lady, perhaps it is best that you stay here while we take care of these vagrants." the Crusader suggested.
The Noble nodded. "Don't worry, Reynauld. I know my capabilities are useless in direct combat." Once again, crows gathered around her. One in particular landed on her hands, the occult markings on her hands spreading on it. Then it too started to glow, its eyes shining eerily.
Just like the Noble's, her eyes now one with the crow. "I am your employer. And I look after my employees." she said, her voice giving off an otherworldly cadence.
The Crusader, almost by instinct, made the sign of the cross again. But he would not falter. This was not a malevolent force, unlike whatever had imprisoned the estate, so he had no reason to distrust it. He saw the crow begin to fly around them, orbiting the two of them. He turned to his fellow comrade.
"Shall we, Sir Dismas?"
"Enough with the "sirs", Reynauld. But we shall." The Highwayman replied, as they began marching down where he had scouted out, ready to push back the vagrants that had disrupted their travel, and most importantly, put their employer in harm.