Summary: The Estate wants new blood. The Heroes want riches, glory, and honorable death. The villagers just want this farce to be over. Lenore Adamos, the rightful heir, just wants to break the curse on her land and survive. Sadly all good deeds must be paid in pain and death.
This story is an exploration of the Hows and Whys of the Darkest Dungeon. Those game mechanics we take for granted? How and why did they come to be? What could they imply?
Warning: Lore Heavy and Very Slow. I will use warnings before and after any graphic scene involving children or sex. I won't be using warnings for graphic violence or death, with a summary of what was skipped in the below Author's Notes section. I'll be pulling a great deal from Darkest Dungeon, Akume Ga Kill, and Bloodborne. If you want to know how dark this can go.
.A/N: I do not own Darkest Dungeon or anything affiliated with the brand. This is just a fanfic from an amateur writer. Warning: No Beta We Stand at Death's Door, World Building, Unreliable Narrator, Everyone is Broken, Flashbacks, Horror, Death, Stress, Traumatic Pasts, Human Trafficking, Abuse, Child Abuse, Rape, Human Sacrifice, Hey Did I Mention Dark? Yandere, PTSD, Survivor's Guilt, Self-Medication, Drug Dependency, Baggage, Should I just bold horror at this point? Cheesy Romance, and Gamer tropes. I do not make any money off this story. Thank you for your time and my gratitude to Red Hook Studios.
This story is cross-posted on A03, where the main story has been going on for a few months already. I'll try to update on FF at least twice a month until this story catches up with my A03 profile. If you're okay with episodic updates, you'll be happy here. If you want to binge then please head to my other profile. This story is composed, written, and edited by me, myself, and I while working two jobs. Please be patient, I do not make money here. I'll welcome any constructive criticism, but keep it respectful. With that being said. Thank you for coming to this story.
"Talking"
'Thinking'
Casting/Skills
The Ancestor Speaks
The Others
Ch 1: The First Recruit
"Of all that you could ask of me, you ask for that Lenore?!" The heavy-set giant of a man, more muscle than fat growled as he got up to pace. Leather and steel armor creaking as he moved, and muttered. I take another sip of tea, watching my godfather in all but name gets his nerves together. Finally, he slows, takes a deep breath, and I take the opportunity to interrupt before he can dig in his heels.
"I do not ask Head Commissioner. As Heir Adamos, I call on the favor owed to my family for your current fortune and status." I stated, voice calm and implacable. He stops completely and begins looming over me. I gently set the tea down and stand up to match his 6'6" with my 5'3" never breaking eye contact.
"You! …Fine. Debt is a debt." He snorts and reaches for some parchment. "This clears the dues between our families Heir Adamos."
"It clears that particular debt Head Commissioner." I correct, "Do not forget, this arrangement will benefit both of us. Yes, it will be more troublesome for you to pass in the beginning, but the greater burden will be with me."
He hesitates a second and then speaks softly, "Too much of your grandparents in ya girle. And too much of your ma that's for sure. …I'll make ya a wager then."
"Oh〜 I'm listening."
Observing the mold spread on the walls, a steady drip of water in the background, a rickety wooden table with chairs, with a flickering candle making the shadows dance. Half focusing on my book, I strain my ears. Until a clinking of chains comes closer, the iron door slams open, and that poor beaten wretch of a man was thrust inside. Thin clothes barely cover the bruises of the starved man, a broken hook noose with manacles weighing down both his hands and bare feet. Interestingly at the sight of me, he flinched back into the Head Commissioner, who shoved him back inside. "10 minutes." He snorted and slammed the door shut, clipping the wretch.
"Do take a seat." I gesture to the wretch who is stubbornly picking himself up and stumbles to the opposing chair. As he sits it creaks and wobbles. Before he can fall I instinctively reach out with both hand and power. He corrects himself quickly even without my aid, my magic wrapping around him. Holding him. But unneeded, it is dismissed with a hiss in disappointment at not tasting blood or pain. 'Quick reflexes? Even better, he'll be needing it.'
His eyes though distant have not once left me. Slamming the book shut, distracts him enough for me to regain control of our…meeting and, more importantly, break his trance with the Lord's Ring. A gaudy thing. Hefty gold with an oversized blood diamond, gleaming with both power and malice. He rests his arms on the table, with heavy iron causing the wood to protest, and hisses at me, "I don't care who or what you are. I know the stories. I know the warnings. I know the curses, your kind," He spits to the side. 'Wise of him to not spit at me.' "an' I want nothing to do with that. I will not accept any deal."
"8 minutes left, with the gallows awaiting you tomorrow. Will you not hear me out?"
…
"Well, then I shall carry this conversation. As you've stated you will not accept a deal. It is with good fortune that it's not a deal I offer, but an opportunity. I do not come to promise riches or glory or even life." He does not flinch, insisting on silence. "While some of that may come about as a side benefit, you are not entitled to any of such." My voice is starting to take on a haunting echo in this empty room, smooth as poisoned wine. "You," I lean forward, staring him down. "Are a dead man walking. Either tomorrow or in the future you will die. There is no escape from that. What I want from you is to die killing other dead men and accursed creatures. My opportunity is a chance at making your death worth something. A chance at redemption," He flinches and glances down. 'Hook.'
"To cull the monsters that lurk in the dark, and maybe just maybe bring a chance at a better life for others. A chance to spark hope where there is despair. An opportunity to blaze a trail so that others might not only survive but Live. Your life will be yours. But your Service, your Loyalty, and your Death will be Mine. 5 minutes left." On that note, I settle back and open the book again. Letting the silence and his thoughts finish the talking. 'Line.'
…
…
…
…
A clanking of metal attracts my attention, he gets up and stumbles around the table before slowly kneeling before me. 'Sinker.'
"I, Dismas of the Old Road, do swear to follow and serve. That your command will be my act. That I will remain loyal and true to you and your will. That no other lord may command for you will be my only master. That my death is in service to you and your domain. Let the Light and Dark hear my oath, given willing, and of sound mind."
I stand as he starts his oath of service and loyalty. Holding his chin and tilting his head to catch my gaze, I do not know what he sees for he remains resigned and resolute. Not once stumbling over his words. "I, Heir Lenore Amaris Branwen Adamos, do accept your oath of fealty. From now to the end of time you are mine. In this, I swear to you a home in my lands and a place by my side. With Faith, Honor, and Courage you shall serve me. Now rise as my Hero Dismas of the Scarlet Glenn."
He jerks a bit at hearing my name, eyes widening, and with a hint of trembling. 'Poor lamb, he just realized who he sold himself to. But too late you're mine now. My servant. My hero. My first hero. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.' My eyes gleam a greedy ice blue and the Lord's Ring smolders with crimson light and black smoke surrounding my hero, Dismas.
Using my Authority to claim and bind him to me. 'But he is mine and not the estates.' My magic races the dark power inherit of the Lordship and encircles his soul so that he is mine and mine first. It will be my power that he shall primarily feed off. My Power shall bolster him. My Power will raise him to new heights. My Power will bind him to me and me alone. And I'll never be alone again.
I refocus on the physical realm, satisfied that I reached his soul first. His trembling slows and stills at the mention of faith, honor, and courage. 'I promised an opportunity at redemption. When a man has little else, his word is his worth.' With the vows complete I release his chin and begin stroking his stringy hair, pouring magic into him. He glows with a rose-red outline as his bruises fade, bones mend, muscles stitch, the skin takes on a healthier glow, and his nose heals crooked but no longer broken. He stands up strong and unfaltering, the metal clanking in disappointment.
I wonder what he feels, I can't hide who I truly am in a Claiming. With deep magic pure in intent. What did he see? What did he witness? Oh the questions, but what does it matter, he is mine. Oh doesn't that sound sweet? My smile is hungry as he watches me like a deer before a wolf. My amusement grows as I see that he knelt over his spit to give his oaths.
Whatever might have been said is silenced by the door slamming open. My Godfather stormed in, taking in the newly revitalized hero he huffed in exasperation. Snapping his fingers, the guards behind him lead Dismas to a new cell, undoubtedly with fresh clothes, basic hygiene, and a decent meal provided. A hero has greater rights and status than any commoner, no matter how new they are. This will be coming out of my significantly depleted purse…but what is mine will be provided for.
As Dismas reaches the doorway, Godfather grabs his entire head with a single hand, spinning him around to face me, and forces him to bow to me. I incline my head, waving him off with a toothy grin. Etiquette observed Dismas and his escort leave us alone. Safe from prying eyes and loose tongues I allow myself to finally embrace the power high of a claiming. Cackling madly, clutching the book in a bone-white grip, and leaning against the table for support.
"Just like her ma, that one." I turn to my Mother's First Hero, Her Master Bounty Hunter, and with her death my Silent Guardian. He would always be Hers, but my honorary Godfather had his orders, should she die he would protect me as much as he could throughout my childhood until I grew until adulthood. Each of her children had a different guardian from her selection of heroes, but she choose her first for her only daughter. I am grateful to her. Now though…now I have reached adulthood against all odds. Now I have inherited our cursed land. Now I have passed the test to be recognized as The Heir by Land and Power. Now I must face the trials to Reconquer the Land and Master my Blood's Power. To proclaim myself Lord and make my Authority over Land and People absolute. Failure…will cost my life, damn my soul, and lead to horrors best left unspoken.
Now…now is time to let go of the past, to face my destiny. But…I walk into my Godfather, holding him tightly, and wail. He wraps a single arm around the whole of me. Silent and guarding me during the last moment of weakness I can allow myself. The darkness clawing at my skirts with only a spluttering candle desperately holding them at bay.
The wails turn to crying turn to sniffles, and I part from my last bastion of safety. He watches with a quick squeeze on my shoulder, understanding without a word, and lets me go. I wipe my tears away, turn away from him, and stride towards the exit. As I cross the threshold away from my Godfather the candle snuffs out. The Dark rushing to embrace and envelope me, as I continue head held high, and move without hesitation through the twisted and screaming hallways.
The only way out is forward and I won our wager. I gained my first hero from a prisoner of the Head Commissioner's selection and thus earned further desperate souls from his jails and dishonored men. However kind he might have been in choosing my hero, Dismas, should I have failed there would have been no further aid from him. What is tolerated in children is forsaken as adults. Weakness only merits death, trust gains betrayal, and good acts incite punishment.
Soft and heavy footsteps linger behind me as I make my way. Stopping only before the exit. A massive double gate of iron and slate, flanked on either side by torches and guardsmen. It opens up to a buzzing city in the distance and a bloody dusk setting over the horizon. A carriage is pulling up as I focus on the massive opulent church next to an extensive campus towering over the city putting a good portion of it in shadow. Tomorrow, I will meet with the ArchBishop and High Chancellor. These forsaken souls will not be enough, but including the zealous and curious…I might make it.
