"Ruin has come to our family. You remember our Venerable House, Opulent and Imperial. Gazing proudly from its stoic perch above the moore. I lived all my years in that ancient rumor shadowed manner. Fattened by decadence and luxury, and yet I began to tire of conventional extravagance, singular unsettling tales suggested the mansion itself was a gateway to some fabulous and unamable power.With relic and ritual, I bent every effort towards the excavation and recovery of those long buried secrets. Exhausting what remained of our family fortune on surly workmen and sturdy shovels. At last in the salt soaked cracks beneath the lowest foundations we unearthed that damnable portal and a deluvient evil.Our every step unsettled the ancient earth, but we were in a realm of death and madness. In the end I alone was the only one who escaped, laughing and wailing through those blackened arcaded halls 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 clutches of… The Darkest Dungeon."
It didn't matter how many times he read the letter over, for all he knew maybe the old man had finally gone senile. Talks of abominations, ancient evils, mysterious powers that be. Truly, only a madman would ever believe any of this nonsense to be true.
He must have been one of them, despite all better judgement to ignore the old man's words. He couldn't get this madness out of his head, each night was a restless one. Voices of doubt haunted his dreams, asking many questions that he had no answer to. What if he had been wrong? What if that madman of a grandfather was correct and he did unleash some ancient evil? His grandfather he could give any less of a shit about, but what of the people that decided to build a town next to his family estate? He had many fond memories of the quaint little town, when the stuffiness of the Manor became too much, he usually left to enjoy himself in the quiet town and feel the warm summer wind against his face.
Maybe this was possibly letting superstious fear take hold instead of common sense, but he felt it deep within his bones that he could not risk this. While he did leave that place long ago due to many issues with the only man, one thing was for certain, his ancestor never did a single thing without purpose. Today was the day he'd found out that purpose, he prayed to The Light that this wasn't the ramblings of an old man, he'd have a few strong words to say if that was the case.
He sat within his stagecoach currently transporting him towards the ancestral home he had left behind, in his hands was the note. The note was neat and clean, clear of any kinds of blotches and mistreatment. He had been careful with this note, careful not to damage it. This thing had called him back, back to a place he had no intention of returning to. A note left by an old man who might've damned them all to hell.
He wouldn't have had much chance to continue wallowing in his thoughts, his focus being taken as he felt a gentle but firm hand rest upon his shoulder. Looking up, he laid his green eyes upon the individual in question.
Sitting in front of him was the Crusader, Reynauld, donned in a suit of armor following the color motif of grey and gold. Wearing upon his chest was a cloth that reached down between his legs as it was a red cloth with gold trimmimgs and a gold cross across his chest, the symbol of his order.
"Are you well, Moriarty? You seem to be staring at that parchment with an intense gaze. Is it wise to make such a trip? You make it known that you show no love for your lineage." The Crusader spoke, concern lining his strict tone.
"I say leave him to worry about his family in solitude, matters not to me whether or not he is sound, only that he keeps his end of the bargain." Said a brash tone, sitting beside Reynauld was the other acompanying him on his trip back. Within the same transport was none other then the Highwayman, Dismas. The rogue dressed in a grey coat that covered a simple linen shirt. He wore leather pants along with simple boots, covering his neck and mouth was a red scarf. His face held a rough expression as he also had a decent amount of black hair on his head.
Reynauld looks over at Dismas for a few moments before returning his gaze back onto The Heir. "What Dismas means to say is that, are you sure you wish to go through with this journey?"
"Hey, don't go around and start interpreting my words any way you want. You might give the impression I care." Dismas replies from where he sat. His arms were crossed as he stared outside at the passing trees and their gloomy atmosphere.
These two men were his companions for the journey ahead, Reynauld offering to come along when he had caught word of his choice to return to his old home. The two decided to travel together out of respect of their friendship formed during the times of the Crusades. Dismas was a whole other story entirely, he had come across the Highwayman in the dead of midnight upon the steps of his home. Within seconds of just opening the door, the Highwayman was already inviting himself in with intentions of discussing the contracts he had left out for those to accompany him on his trip and investigation of his ancestral home. The exchange was strange to say the least, the usually confident Dismas was fidgetting every now and then as details of the way he would get there were discussed. When prices were eventually brought up, Dismas offered to join for the lowest rate that he had even seen from the individual. When asked why he was offering a low rate of payment for the trip, Dismas simply dodged the question and left his home within seconds preventing any further attempt to probe for answers.
"Peculiar behavior, but I welcome his company nonetheless along with Reynauld. Both these men have seen a life of battle and conflict, I only hope that it never comes to the point that these experiences had to be utilized." He thought to himself. He cleared his throat before saying to Reynauld, "I am fine, friend... Simply wondering and worrying for the future, nothing too debilitating, I can assure you."
"It sure as hell isn't assuring me." Dismas interrupts giving a bit of a glare at Moriarty. "The worst thing you could do right now is think too hard. What was once worry becomes obsession, don't you let that go and blind ya from what's in front of you." He continues before looking back outside at the gloomy and depressive landscaping.
"True... Very true indeed, Dismas. I'll take your words to heart." Replied Moriarty though Dismas only grunted in response and continued to stare out the window.
Reynauld decided to break the tension between the two saying, "What caused this rift between you and your family lineage? From what I've heard, your family had been known to be filled with many intrepid adventurers and explorers of the like. Men and women who had traveled far and wide to discover the unknown. You did very much the same when we came across one another. You even joined briefly with the Crusades."
"He has a point, when I met you, you were some helpless kid that couldn't help but walk into danger. You do the same things that any other member of your family had done before, if what Reynauld tells me is true. Why the split? You seem like you would have fit in well with those chums and their fancy manor." Dismas says turning his head to look back at Moriarty as he was expecting an answer from the Heir.
"You two bring up good points, true it may seem that I was right where I belonged, but that couldn't be any more farther from the truth. My Grandfather and I never saw eye to eye on matters. While never outright cruel, he was... Withdrawn... He kept to himself, he was a hard man to connect with. Conversations were hard to come by with him, it always felt like he had secrets. It wouldn't be until he came to blows with my father that I decided the time was right to leave. With my father and mother, we left the family estate with him and traveled far to set up a name for ourselves elsewhere. Due to the disputes, communication with him were strained. I personally never thought he would write back, let alone send a most curious letter." Moriarty explained to the two as his head tilted back down towards the letter. With his free hand, he moved to grab an item he found within the envelope along with the letter, a mysterious key of sorts with the end being shaped to form the symbol of a skull.
"Sounds shady, a relative you've had terrible relations with and haven't heard from for some time begs you to come back, because of some evil in his basement. There are too many harrowing signs that say this is a trap or your grandfather has gone mad and is trying to have you killed."
"I've considered the possibility, that is why I have placed down contracts for those skilled in combat. Fortunately, I have built up a sizable sum over the years to start a business, though now I guess I must use that money to deal with the troubles of my Grandfather."
Moriarty let out an audible sigh, regret clearly plaguing his mind. Allowing his desire to slip free for the sake of an old senile man. Once again, he felt a heavy hand rest upon his shoulder.
"Cheer up, I know it may not be in my place to suggest, maybe you can salvage something much greater then riches from this expedition."
A moment passed between all the occupants of the stagecoach before the silence was broken once more.
"Well? Don't leave me grasping for answers, old friend. What could be more satisfying then riches? More desirable then forging a new legacy with my own two hands and feet?"
"Isn't it simple? A bond of familyhood, many people take such precious riches for granted, I give you this advice. Don't throw away or abandon the bonds that exist between family, you may never know when those precious few are lost." The Crusader explained, his tone becoming more dark towards the end as Reynauld simply looked down to stare at the floor. Almost as if he had much to think about himself. Dismas was also surprisingly quiet, with his head turned towards the window with his hands gripping his pants tightly.
The Heir decided to sit back and quietly ponder on the Crusader's words. There was truth, a truth he could barely comprehend, but a truth nonetheless. Could he really find it in his heart to make amends with his grandfather?
Only a sharp and violent pain awaited his thoughts as he massaged the area on his head that was hit as he heard the mad laughter of the one driving the stagecoach. He could faintly hear Dismas curse under his breath, probably commenting on the erratic driving they were experiencing.
Another shift could be heard before their stagecoach began to spin out of control. "Brace yourselves!" Moriarty shouted to the two men as they were thrown all about within their vehicle. The Heir took many blows all over his body before finally laying in the wreakage of the stagecoach.
His vision blurred and darkness slowly consuming his sight, he allowed the cold embrace to spread all over him as he lost consciousness.
He could of sworn, he heard his grandfather speaking from the distance...
"Mathius Moriarty, you have returned at last, know that the road ahead is filled with danger. You will see dangers unlike any other, but know this. You are not alone, with the opening of the portal comes new allies each with their own agenda in mind. As the last child of the Moriarty Bloodline, fulfill your brithright and conquer, The Darkest Dungeon."
/Alright! So ends the first chapter of The Darkest Dungeon : Modded Edition! I'm quite excited as to where these chapters will go! As my method, going to play Darkest Dungeon with mods of all sorts! I actually used one right now. A mod that allows me to start with a skeleton key! Next chapter, we may see colorful people of both different and new enter the scene. Until then, signing off!
