Darkest Hour: THE OLD GODS LEGACY

The Hacienda The Manor The Hamlet.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the weathered cobblestones of the Hamlet, Mika Larfey, the caretaker of the estate, stood at the entrance to the foreboding manor. Her eyes, hardened by years of witnessing the terrors that lurked within, scanned the horizon anxiously.

Footsteps echoed in the distance, heralding the arrival of the newcomers who had answered the urgent summons. With a heavy sigh, Mika straightened her posture, readying herself to greet them.

Moments later, two figures emerged from the gloom, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns. Angra, a healer and magician, with a haunted look in his eyes, moved with cautious grace, his cloak billowing behind him. Beside him walked Russell, a war veteran, his youthful features belied by the weight of his past experiences.

"Welcome," Mika greeted them, her voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath their feet. "I trust you received my letter?"

Angra nodded solemnly, his gaze meeting Mika's with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "We did," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Though I must admit, the urgency of your message has left us with more questions than answers."

Russell, ever the stoic soldier, remained silent, his eyes darting warily between Mika and the looming silhouette of the estate.

Mika offered them a reassuring smile, though it did little to dispel the lingering sense of foreboding that hung in the air. "All will become clear in due time," she assured them, gesturing for them to follow her into the depths of the manor.

As they crossed the threshold, the weight of the estate's history bore down upon them like a suffocating shroud. But amidst the shadows and the whispers of forgotten secrets, a glimmer of hope flickered-a chance for redemption, for salvation, in the face of insurmountable odds.

And so, their journey began, fraught with peril and uncertainty, but fueled by the unwavering resolve to confront the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

--------- Scene 1 -------------

After guiding Angra and Russell through the dimly lit corridors of the ancestral estate, Mika led them to a secluded chamber adorned with ancient tapestries and flickering candlelight. The air was heavy with the scent of age and anticipation as they entered, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor.

"Allow me to introduce you to your companions on this perilous journey," Mika began, her voice carrying a weight of solemnity. "Ven Plaga, a seasoned mercenary whose skills in combat are matched only by his resilience."

Stepping forward from the shadows, Ven Plaga emerged, clad in a rugged artifact jacket that seemed to hum with latent power. His piercing gaze met theirs, betraying a sense of quiet determination that belied his rugged exterior.

"And Remedy," Mika continued, gesturing toward the other figure standing beside Ven Plaga. "A mender from a land torn asunder by strife and discord. Though her past is shrouded in mystery, her healing arts will prove invaluable in the trials ahead."

Remedy stepped forward, her presence exuding a sense of quiet strength and determination. Her eyes, haunted by memories of a war-torn homeland, held a glimmer of hope as she regarded Angra and Russell.

"These two will accompany you on your quests, guiding you through the darkest depths of the estate and beyond," Mika explained, her voice tinged with a sense of foreboding. "But be warned, the horrors that await you are beyond comprehension. They will test your courage, your resolve, and your very sanity."

Ven Plaga nodded grimly, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon, while Remedy offered a reassuring smile, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"We shall face these horrors together," Ven Plaga declared, his voice echoing with a sense of determination. "No matter the cost."