A/N: I do not own Darkest Dungeon or anything affiliated with the brand. This is just 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, Hey Did I Mention Dark? 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.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

Memories

Casting/Skills/Words of Great Power or Meaning

The Ancestor Speaks

The Others

Previously

As much as I would like to increase the quality of my men's quarters, we need to increase the blood flow of adventurers into my town first. Sacrificing deeds and crests to improve the Coach, so that it can carry three adventurers at a time. And that's all I can do…

That's all I can do…for now.

Ch 8: Breaking of the First Seal

The Caretaker left today to gather more adventurers and fulfill the contract with the University. Apparently, the heads of the local establishments thought that my display yesterday was the Caretaker's. They thought wrong.

The Blacksmith is hesitantly wiping the blood and gore littering his face. The last testament of one of his peers. The Hamlet sends me a memory of the Tavern Owner and Blacksmith having a drink together. Resulting in the Blacksmith taking his friend's advice. 'So that's why his report was in order. A few marginal errors, but acceptable and full taxes are already being sent to my treasury. Wise to listen to his friend.'

I glance at the Spare of the Adventurer branch, begging and gathering the exploded pieces of his master, teacher, and lover. The Legendary Crusader, bound to the Estate, is a broken mess, "No. no, no, no, please merciful Light! No! Please give her back! Anything, please anything!"

A glop of the late Guild Leader slops onto his unprotected head. He breaks into ugly wails. Clutching the chunks of flesh and hair close to his chest.

'Oh, now that is something I can use.' I muse, turning to the hidden soul of said Leader. I tighten my grip on it. The only thing that is preventing the trembling soul from being consumed by the webs that bound it. The Lord's Ring sighs at not being able to enjoy the Harvest but agrees to my plan.

"A Pact then, if everything is offered." I offer to the broken man.

He turns to me eyes red and mouth agape in abject sadness and horror. Desperate for any sort of hope. "Anything. Everything."

My answering smile is not kind, "Complete loyalty and obedience to me and my line. The only exception is when you have to act in our best interest. You will act with honor, goodwill, and virtue in your duties. If you are paid for a service, it will be carried out. Promptly and correctly. You will uphold your previous contract to the Land and Estate. Her life will be bound to yours and she will serve you. Allowing you to become the next branch leader. Until another Bound comes to take your place, and even then you will serve as guard and defender of the Adamos Lands. Forever and a Day, I Bind you to my Family."

I hold out my hand, and he clasps it with both hands. My Power gathers all the flesh, shards of bone, and mushed organs splattered onto every surface and person in the room. Except for me, of course, appearances are needed after all. I then grab the formless meat and direct Flesh Crafting and Holy Healing. A delicate balance between Dark and Light magic to shift it into a proper human body. Along with making damn sure that the two energies do not cross paths.

I shove her soul halfway through the process to help the body remember the previous form. Binding it to the new branch leader and letting her experience a new hell of pain. She dared to try to take advantage of me when I showed her mercy. So, I leave enough of my Power on her to keep her sane through the process. To not allow her to escape her punishment through madness.

The Dancing Shadows and Brilliant Light die down to leave a trembling, whimpering woman naked on the floor. Ashen and Infirm. The branch leader quickly strips off his cloak to cover her and holds her close. Stroking the now snow-white hair. The Blacksmith looks at his empty mug wistfully. The Brother is still passed out from when I executed the Previous Branch Leader by blowing her up.

Something inside me hungers, as I watch the man openly show love. I shove it down with a lifetime of practice, though no doubt my red eyes give me away. Envy and desire are not green. They're red.

I justify the slip, 'I can play it off as the aftermath of working advanced magic. It's not a lie after all.'

My eyes never leave the couple, ' Wonder what will happen when he figures out that she will start aging normally again, and even if she dies, he won't die with her. He's also bound, unable to take his own life to join her.' The Lord's Ring glints in anticipation. The Estate grumbles but is patient with a meal not stolen, merely delayed. 'I do not show kindness to those that would prey on me.'

"Congratulations on your promotion to branch leader. I expect the proper reports tomorrow." I move to leave, "The meeting has concluded, and do tell Francis that his report was satisfactory. He will need the good news."

With this, I sweep out the door and return home. The house still needs cleaning, and there is more paperwork to go over. The archives are in complete disarray. It never ends.

'It seems like the Caretaker and previous heirs just dumped their records haphazardly in there. For decades if not centuries. He might know where stuff is, but I can't rely on him to be upfront. Especially, when it might challenge his pride and efficiency. No matter how obvious his lack of management is displayed.'

I stop to pinch my nose to help cut off the budding headache.

The house I'm walking by, 'Let's be honest, it's a shack.' Drops a rot-infested beam that narrowly misses me. I step over it and ignore the mutters of the populace. They always scatter when I look at them and there is so much that needs to be done.

With a mental command, I order the community heads' silence. They would only speak of our meeting to other Heads where they can not be overheard. If, they must speak of it at all. The sheep are easily spooked.

The next few days go smoothly. The Heads are properly cowed, taxes correctly collected, imports are noted at the right costs, and the populace is none the wiser to my dealings. I do make a stop at the Barracks when my heroes have gone for the day.

Performing the same cleaning that my house required. An improvement from a wreck whose only use was kindling to something barely liveable. I go a step further and call on the Origin Light. It answers eagerly, to lay claim to this abode.

'I've been lucky in my dealings so far.' I cradle my familiar as I gather mana for another gamble. The Hamlet eagerly shares its Power. The Lord's Ring indulges me with a not-inconsiderate boost to my efficiency. With the Light elemental acting as a medium, it just might be enough. 'We'll see if it holds.'

A string of Light expands from the orb, and under my direction, becomes arcane runes, writings, and ritual circles across the building. The roof, walls, and foundation, while linking it with the Hamlet. So even when the building is upgraded or replaced the Wards being born will remain or become strengthened.

So I bless this house for my men, my heroes.

I bless with the wish of sanctuary from the evils and dangers of the outside world that they might have peace in my house.

I bless with kindness to replenish flagging spirits and weary souls. That respite will be found in my halls.

I bless with healing and mending of flesh and mind. That which was broken would be renewed and strengthened within my walls.

I bless this place with peace for sleep and emboldening their wills. That nightmares and lurking horrors will not touch them under my roof.

That when they leave my house, they will be blessed in strength, speed, and fortune.

I give the Great Blessing of Home.

I cradle the brilliant orb and catch something. Giving the mental equivalent of a gentle swat on the Orb's nose. I revert the change to exclude those of Dark-Alignment so that All Alignments would equally receive my blessings in my house.

And then, I bind the writing, seal the wards, and finalize my decree. The Hamlet shakes. My Blessings, by my Authority, root, and tattoos itself to the Hamlet. The orb wraps around me in a hug and returns to the either.

My legs shake and collapse on me, as I just laugh at my success. One of the unique Powers granted to Female Lords, making them so coveted, and I succeeded on my first try. 'Power over hearth, home, and territory indeed.'

Strong arms gently pull me up and set me on a nearby bed. The blurry faces of Reynauld and Dismas.'How long? I made sure they were occupied for the day. I can't show weakness as their Lord.'

I try to sit up, and Dismas gently lays me down again, "Rest, we'll watch over ya."

'Considering my own condition-?' My eyes close of their own accord. Power spills out of me and wraps around my heroes. Sleep overtakes me.

'Oh fuck me.' I groan at my returned migraine and the loss of several days' progress. My heroes took turns keeping watch over me. I grimace and nurse a cup of cold water, 'Oh, I really didn't want those kinds of rumors.'

The town was in a buzz at the decadent and lustful nature of their new Lord. To continuously keep the service of her two heroes for days on end. I hide my face in my arms in embarrassment. The Caretaker arrived with the new adventurers while I was knocked out, and yet I believe he thinks those rumors to be true.

Apparently, my Blessing repelled him from the Barracks, but the young women he arrived with were tentatively accepted. 'One of the best ways to make a first impression is to sleep through it.' I mock myself, and glare at the window of my study. 'At least the townsfolk settled down, at the understanding of what 'type' of Lord I'll be. The lustful ones were more tolerable apparently.'

I groan at the memory of meeting my new heroes.

My head is fuzzy, and my body is heavy. A strange pair of hands are fluttering around my body, prodding my vitals. When it reaches my neck and the latches of my dress, I REACT. With one hand I grab one of the hands and swing myself into a standing position while dragging the assailant to the floor. The hand I grab is twisted around their back holding them in position. I raise my free hand to call a Spear of Light.

Before it's even fully formed Reynauld puts his arms under my own and pulls me back and off-balance. Dismas works in time with Reynauld gently breaking my grip on the…Plague Doctor? Who summarily collapses and tsks at itself.

He deadpans to the sprawled adventurer, "And that's why we told you, ya shouldn't touch 'er."

Turning to address me, "And are ya going to try to kill 'veryone that startles ya?"

I reply honestly without thinking. Mind blurring at being pulled from sleep too soon, "If they insist on touching me when I'm weakened and compromised? Yes. It's saved my life on numerous occasions."

He stops and looks at me. Grabs a nearby mug and knocks it back.

"...I thought I told the Tavern Owner to hold back on sales until I've had a chance to inspect his shop."

Dismas pours himself another glass without shame, "Aye, and if those 'wares' are stolen and the correct amount of gold is left in place. It ain't selling, now is it?"

I groan from the Overspent Debuff. "Fair. I won't go after him for disobeying me then."

He grins roguishly, "See and I told him ya were a reasonable person. Didn't believe me, mind. But here ya are."

I squint at him, "And you're sloshed or about to be. Where is the responsible adult?"

The arms dropped from holding me and I stumbled. Swaying I use a hand to clasp Reynauld's shoulder to steady myself. And then stumble into sitting on one of the beds with a Rosary.

I hold my head, "Report."

Reynauld snaps to attention and clangs a hand against his breastplate. "The Hamlet is calm. There are no notable attacks against the town. People are doing as well as they can. The Barracks are secure and the Caretaker-" He paused and snarled as if someone just offered him scripture about the Occult. He quickly regains his professionalism. "Dropped off two new recruits. May I present Holy Sister Taillebois and Plague Doctor Marisco?"

I wave at them, "Greetings." I then cradle my head again, in too much pain to deal with anything today. "Women get comfortable in your new home. It gets a lot worse don't worry. If you want to take your chances, run now. If you are willing to face death and horror, I'll claim you in the morning."

The sound of a wax seal breaking echoes through my mind. The Estate rumbles in glee, as the Wards holding the Ruins unravel. What was sealed away in that decrepit wreckage stirs once again. My migraine sharpens until my senses are blurred and I can't feel anything but pain and encroaching madness.

I come to my senses, "Mission starts tomorrow men. The Seal on the Ruins has come undone and tomorrow you get to cull them."

My eyes are sharp and serious as I watch the two women, "I am serious about claiming you both. You were sent here for a reason and if you choose to stay, it's because you chose to stay."

My moment of clarity ends and I point at the Plague Doctor…Mari? "You forgot all about the proper procedure of the Santintium's protocols for dealing with Aracne Adventurers. I swear for every time I had to pull one of your ilks off the patients I would not have to suffer being so miserly. Half the time the birds killed the patient and the other half the patients killed you birds. And we got blamed for it!

Like excuse you, it's not a Daughter's fault if your Doctors can't be bothered to protect themselves or exercise something novel. Like restraint! Or Wisdom! Perhaps even bedside mannerisms! Seriously, do you all have a fetish for feeling up an injured or bound person…is that why you're always bound up in leathers? I know you guys deal in blights and stuff but is that the real reason?"

Reynauld and Talle(?) look at each other at the implications of a Noble Lord performing work typically reserved for Commoner Adventurers. Dismas comes over and pushes me so that I fall on the bed, "'lright ya need to go to sleep now."

I mumble out, "I don't need sleep! I need answers! You drunkard…"

My traitorous eyes start to close on me.

"Riiiight, that's our boss 'veryone. I need 'nother drink. Ya'll want one?"

And I lose consciousness.

Both women stayed through the morning, so I kept my promise and Claimed them. A simple exchange of service and loyalty for home and purpose. I also added the be virtuous and honorable clause somewhere in there.

Now my 4 heroes, the entirety of them, are on a short scouting mission to get the feel of the Ruins. Light, I pray that they return, I do not want them subjected to the horrors my Ancestor left behind. But if we are to have any sort of future… we must.

Omake: How Did I Get Here? Taillebois

The Old Sister heaves as she finishes bashing the head of the last intruder. 14 men are dead by her mace and the Light's grace. She's long used to the blood and fleshy splatter from her fights as she takes stock of the situation.

Two of her Sisters, her flock, are huddled behind her in ripped dresses and power-suppressing chains. 'This is why I enforce curfews and check-ins. They may hate me and think me stifling, but they're safe. The tribute to the Light is well kept, and that's what matters.'

Their virtue and vows remain intact, but it was a narrow escape. They were ambushed and stolen from the sanctuary of her nunnery. The fact that these intruders made it this far? That disturbs her.

She thinks, 'They're safe. Thank the Light. I made it time. I didn't fail again. My weakness didn't cause the Light to curse the harvests again.'

Their wails are distracting, but she allows the lack of decorum. 'They went through an ordeal, and from what I can tell.' She bends down to investigate and spots a bloody letter. An invitation from the Ruling Lord of her domain. 'It's an inside job.'

She spits at the ground but dares not curse his name out loud. The letter is clenched in a trembling fist as she found that Archbishop Willem has AGAIN sold the right and preemptive pardon of the raiding of HER nunnery.

He's done so for other nunneries in his territories, but this was another personal offense. Another glimmer of gold catches her eye and makes her blood freeze. It's the royal seal. She just killed a prince. Possibly, more than one.

Guards swarm out of nowhere, complete in the colors of the royal family. They surround the women, and the Head Sister dismisses her weapons. Knowing she'd been set up and outplayed. The Archbishop has finally tired of the staunch defense of her flock.

The 7 ft Lord as wide as he was tall, smirks down at the pest that refuses her proper place. He greatly appreciates the bulky chains forcing the middle-aged woman to kneel. 'If only she was a bit younger, I might have spared her…for other duties of course.'

"You've made a mess of things Head Sister Taillebois." His smile is plastic while his fat pinched eyes are consumed by shadows. A tell-tale sign that the priest of Light has dabbled in the Dark. The sheer opulence in gold and gems that garnish his obese body clank with every breath. Drawing attention away from this fact. Many sins can be forgotten, in the glimmer of wealth.

Beaten and bruised, covered in a prisoner's rags, she remains stoic and uncompromising.

The smile drops. Here he only has his heroes and the prisoner, no one worth pandering to. "Rejoice Sister, for I have covered your sins. There are consequences, of course, murdering 3 sons of the royal family. Tsk, tsk, Sister. Even worse, you got caught. Are you so incompetent to at least clean up after yourself?"

She bites her tongue and swallows a scathing reply. It won't help her here. 'As if you wouldn't have framed me if I escaped.'

He blathers on, "No, no. Quite a mess you've made for me. Thankfully the Light has shown me a path for you. Rejoice, I say Taillebois, for you can bring glory to the Light and fight in the Church's name."

He leans over his desk, multiple chins wobbling as he bares a mockery of a smile. Not bothering to hide the cruelty or teeth that shine through, "As recognition for your many years of loyal service. And I say, really? 3 years from fulfilling your vows and retirement? My dear, it's such a loss, you almost made it too. It might be difficult for a 32-year-old woman such as yourself, but I'm certain you'll make yourself useful at the newest crusade. Your redemption is at stake here."

He looks behind her, and the political smile is plastered back on. The swell of incomprehensible dark magic makes her break out in cold sweat, and the animal part breaks free. Despite her earlier bravo, she's reduced to a panicked beast as she yanks at her chains and tries to run.

There is no escape.

Shadow-like tendrils twist and twine around her body. Dragging the flailing prisoner into the grasp of-

"Not Junia. But this one will suffice."

Darkness.

A/N: Short but adding the quest would have made it too long. At least we made it to the gameplay. A great evil, a great good, and a home for the people she loves.

The consequences are hilarious though. Have you ever known someone who can get so exhausted that they act drunk? It's hilarious to witness and embarrassing to remember. Congratulations Lenore, you reminded your heroes that you are human.

And with my most recent arc on how Dismas came to the hamlet…It leads to inspiration. With my rewrites, I'm going to see if I can do omakes to give the heroes some more personality. I had a great deal of fun with my favorite rogue and it changed the course of the story. And I love the opportunity to flesh out the worldbuilding and their classes. I wonder what it will bring?

Ciao lovely folk.