A/N: I do not own Darkest Dungeon or anything affiliated with the brand. This is just a fanfic from an amateur writer. Warning: World Building, Unreliable Narrator, Dark, 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, Temple Prostitution, 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.

Also, I need to thank Darkheart (Guest) for their review... I'm dealing with life right now, and it was the encouragement needed to hop back on the writing wagon. So my sincere gratitude to you my good fellow and well wishes.

"Talking"

'Thinking/Mental Communication'

Memories/FlashBacks

Casting/Skills/Words of Great Power or Meaning

The Ancestor Speaks

The Others

Previously

My heroes and I rise, groaning from the abrupt stop. I grab the lantern and lead the way out. Driver and horses are missing, and the coach is broken beyond repair. We will have to make the rest of the way on foot.

In the distance, I see the crumbling ruins of my family's old castle and the lights of a Hamlet close by. The Dusk is fading quickly at our backs, and without the Light of the Sun to hold the Dark at bay… It will be free to hunt and Harvest us. My heroes stand at my side, facing the increasingly dark road ahead of us.

Ch 6: The Old Road II

"Dark damnation," Dismas swore at my side.

'In this, we have complete agreement.'

Black bands erupt from the ground and the Lord's Ring. Coating my wrists and neck in shadows before disappearing beyond sight. What little Power and magic I can draw are sealed. Without a weapon or magic, I am defenseless.

A little game is whispered into my mind from the True Master of the Land. The Rules are simple. Make it to the Hamlet in one piece and I'll allow you to lay claim to the land. Don't, and I feast.

The whispers echo, my vision blurs, and my mind stills at the ensuing madness. The presence fades into the shadows, lingering in the background.

'Defenseless, but not alone…not Forsaken. Another wager. Another gamble with life and soul. And I'll make it another victory. I'll wager myself on my men, short as our time was. They are the reliable-in-a-pinch sort.'

'I won't survive with anything less.'

I speak to Dismas and Reynauld, hiding the desperation that they do not abandon me now. "The land is testing us. If we don't make it to the Hamlet before nightfall…we will not survive."

I pause to let that news sink in. "Reynauld take point. Your armor will allow you to survive hits we wouldn't. Dismas watch our flank. You're more familiar with potential ambushes, and your sharp eyes can easily spot what we miss. The Lord's Ring has bound my Power so I'll be unable to assist in battle. Don't be mistaken, there will be battle." I point the lantern forwards and march onwards. My men quickly surrounded me in the commanded positions.

'Will they even understand that with my Powers bound I can't command or bind them? That if they want to abandon me, now is the best and only time to do so? I can't force them to do anything. I can't stop them…Do they not understand, or are they choosing to stay?'

My doubts and fears are interrupted as Reynauld draws his sword and rushes forward toward the surprised bandit. Knocking him back. Dismas slides forward to finish him off with an Open Vein. The bandit grasps his bleeding throat and breathes his last. Smooth and efficient, you would not know that the two had only met today.

"A scout," Dismas confirms, looking him over and frisking him quickly for supplies. "There should be more up ahead."

Pocketing the gold the bandit had on him, we continue through the fungi-corrupted woods. We approach an unoccupied tent, and a Choice needs to be made.

'By the Light, we are kept safe. But the Dark holds great risk and great reward. We barely have enough to get by… A leader must lead by example if I'm to expect them to go forth in Low-Light. Then I must risk it myself. I will take their thoughts first though. No need to appear so greedy that I'm willing to throw them away for a mere pittance.'

"Dismas. Reynauld. I want your thoughts." They look alarmed at this. 'I know it's unheard of for Lord's to take any advice from those lesser than them, but have I been that unreasonable?'

"I will be sending you out on quests to gather supplies, slay monsters, and renew protections on the land. This will often end or consist of Low-Lighting or Darkness. For Darkness provides the greatest risk and for it…greatest reward. I'm willing to lead by example. If I'm forcing you to gamble, then I must be willing with my own. So I'm leaving you the choice for us to douse the Light to half until the end of this road, or allow it to continue to Blaze forth?"

I hold myself with pride as I look at the two men, and hide the trembling from fear. More than my life is on the line here, but without coin, we won't be able to carve a future. I do not know what choice to hope for.

"Let's take the risk." Dismas nods towards me, still confused but wanting to test my words and worth.

"..." Reynauld is silent and conflicted, but greed wins out in him, and he nods his consent.

Without hesitation, my hand closes around the flame in the lantern, decreasing the brilliance into a mere dim light. Dismas looks alarmed by the action but holds himself back when I show that my hand did not burn.

Reynauld makes a noise in amusement at Dismas. Vestals have to go through extensive training with the Lesser Power of Fire. Both in its use and resistance. It's common practice for trainees to light their hands on fire and then heal the damage simultaneously. To grant a greater understanding of Fire, build up resistance to the relatively easy medium, and motivate the trainee to learn to heal. More importantly, it's excellent motivation to get very good, very quickly.

It's only one of the first trials for a Daughter of the Church to go through to prove that they are worthy of becoming one of the Honored Sisters. To be fair, the Church does not advertise this practice. Making it an open secret within its ranks.

Dismas covers the surprise by ducking into the tent and coming out with more gold but no supplies. We push on into a gated clearing, and this time the bandits that were within were not caught unaware. We were.

They attack from behind, leering at me for a quick moment, but return their attention to my guards. Rightly assuming my helplessness. I move out of the way so Reynauld will not have to push past me to fight.

Dismas responds quickly with a tracking shot at the Bloodletter, a giant wielding a crusty red flail. Reynauld marks himself with a Bulwark of Faith to bolster our Light and draw attention away from his less armored companions. The gambit fails, as Dismas falls back after receiving several devastating blows from the Bloodletter. While both of my heroes are dodging the fumbling Fusilier, the Bloodletter has much more experience in battle.

Yet, somehow their teamwork comes through, doubling up on the experienced bandit and overwhelming him, allowing Dismas his revenge and shooting him through his skull. This leaves the Fusilier alone, and predictably, he tries to run. Reynauld does not allow him and yanks his sword out of the bandit's back, leaving him slumped and choking on the ground. He does not live long.

With the battle over, I rip the hem of my sleeve to make a bandage for Dismas and cure his bleeding. Reynauld moves past us and straight to a chest. Cursing in surprise at the trap, his armor protects him from the blight that sloshes over the treasure and dissolves it. 'You couldn't have waited until we searched the bodies for a key?'

To make something of this venture, we loot the bodies for another handful of coins and a few gems. 'Something at least. Either way.' In their death, a path opened up to the rusted gates of the Hamlet. 'Now we need to run uphill.'

Noting Dismas holding his side and limping, I go under the arm of the injured side and support his weight. Half-hauling him up the winding hill, safety insight. Reynauld is keeping pace with us, sword bare, and on the lookout. Thankfully, it seems he is familiar with Vestal procedures. 'Light, what I would do for a trusty mace.'

Determined, we push past whispers in the woods. The wind carries promises of gold and jewels. The shadows promise danger and adventure. A distraction for another day. Reaching the gates Reynauld rushes ahead and tries to shove them open, only to be repelled by the wards, still strong on the rusty iron. I grab and steady him with my free hand before he can fall down the steep hill we just came from.

Once he is secure, I pass Dismas to him and press the hand with a Lord's Ring on the Gate. The Sun's last light at our backs and a rune circle shine a bright red under me. Matching the sigil on the gates. Breaking my bindings and opening the gates at once. I gingerly take Dismas from Reynauld, and we move into safety as Dusk gives way to Nightfall.

Our lantern snuffs itself. The Gates slam shut and seal themselves behind us. A creature lurking beyond the gate howls and slurps off into the woods. Hunting for a meal that has been lost this night.

We turn towards the way we came from. Catching the silhouette of a Coach-Sized monster slithering off, wriggling around on tentacles. 'Oh fuck me, it meant for us to fight that thing?!'

Dismas gulps next to me, and Reynauld gives a nervous chuckle. 'Probably remembering how he almost tumbled down that hill.' I'm just quiet in silent horror.

I focus on the renewed Power to restore Dismas to full health, though he still looks a bit Ashen from the encounter. My soul feels different, with a greater weight to it. Not only with the dark web that clings and claims around the shifting red orb, but fuller- ' Oh. I've finally come into the Established Lord Class huh?'

My senses extend beyond myself and the web Claiming me. But into the Earth, the Hamlet itself welcomes me. With a hefty sigh but Home for Little Its Worth. The Land was hard and gasping for life, the people desolate, and the air stagnant. I try to expand beyond, but it's not mine. I can sense a right to Reclaim the Salt-Soaked Caves to the West, the Fungal-Infested Woods to the South, The Rotting Warrens to the East, and the Devasted Halls of the Ruins to the North.

A sense of knowing fills me from the only place my family has any true and only absolute claim to. My Great Ancestor gave away our rights to portions of our land. By debt or trade, they are in control of other Lords. Bosses of those territories. I can and will bring those territories back into the fold.

An unwelcome voice resounds from the Lord's Ring, "Welcome home, such as it is. This squalid hamlet, these corrupted lands. They are yours now, and you are bound to them."

I turn to my new home in disbelief. It's in ruins. The houses and shops are rundown, broken, and held together by less than a prayer. The few people around to note my arrival, are hopeless and gaunt. Milling their way to one of the better buildings with barely a glimmer of light to be found in the town. Whispers break out in huddled groups, and they disappear out of sight.

'Oh Dark Damned and Light's Mercy. Was there any hope? What is this wretched desolate state of an inheritance? And I'm to not only clean up my Ancestor's messes but put this cobbled quandary into a respectable Estate? Damn that man and his failings.'

A madman's giggle greets us, as a familiar figure approaches us from a broken and defaced statue. Unharmed and unhurried. "Welcome to our Great Home, my Noble Lady."

None of my party are amused.

'The only way out is forward, there never was any escape for me.' The Hamlet is clutching around my soul, desperate to be wanted and loved. Even without trying, I know that I wouldn't be able to physically leave my Claimed Lands, bound as its proper Lord.

I speak, "Caretaker, where are the barracks for my men?"

He points dismissively towards a hobbled wagon with a rickety building behind it. "They won't last long. Though with your contracts, we should receive fresh blood every week."

"Men, good work today. Get some rest, familiarize yourself with the area, and I'll send you out in a week." The men, knowing a dismissal for what it was, leave together. Not daring to be alone in an untrustworthy place. Better the man you fought beside than surrounded by unknowns. I don't dare insult them by giving them a portion of the pittance that we gathered.

"That's not the only contract that you've secured, hmm?" The Caretaker probes knowingly.

"You'll be the one that ferries the men and coin from here to the capital and back, then?" I take the bait and clarify to the High Black Mage.

Connected and bound to the land and the web. Similar yet different but Older. My soul Claiming and Claimed in turn by the Land. The Lordship would have connected all contracts and pacts unto my Land as well. This should have been communicated to the man holding the title of The Caretaker. He who is bound to serve the Lord of the Land. And it has. This was for mere formality's sake.

'I might be Lord of the Hamlet but…I'm not his master. I can only feel the barest hint of authority over him and his Power-' I hide a wince as I search out the Caretaker, 'He has it, but I can't get a read on the scale or depth of it. There is no way he is weak, not with how casually he used High Dark Magic earlier.'

His grin widens with amusement as he gently slaps my magic away from himself. It stings, but it's no worse than a slap on the hand. We continue as if nothing happened, but neither of us will forget this.

"First, we're going to Adamos Manor. Once there, retrieve the records of the Hamlet. The census, taxes, financials, trades…if it's relevant and within 10 years, bring it. Blood flow can only be stemmed if we know where the wounds lay.

Next, set a meeting with all the Heads and their Spares for the major establishments for tomorrow. We have a lot of work to return our home to prosperity and greatness."

I stride to the manor elevated above the rest of the houses. My house crest adorns the front with chipped paint. The wood groans from across the Hamlet and worn-down was a generous description of my new abode.

The Caretaker dogs my footsteps with his unsettling bouts of laughter and quiet contemplation. His eyes never left me, judging and testing. Seeing if I will live up to the weight and Power that the name Adamos is meant to be.

A/N: I need to say that once I learned that you can encounter the Shambler on the Old Road. I couldn't resist referring to it. Imagine that's what greets you at the tutorial level. At level 0. Without knowing much about the game. Yeah, I would be scared witless myself. Ciao for now.