Journey to the Darkest Dungeon

A First Embarkment

As you descended the wooden stair, the heroes were there and waiting on you. Enjoying, as much as that was possible, the midday meal they had been served by the tavern keep. Some eyed you as you approached, others were busy with their meal. The plague doctor refrained from eating entirely, mask still on her face she just sat there, biding her time. "Can we get to work?" she inquired as soon as you reached the table. You unceremoniously dropped the collected notes on the table before them and began outlining the first mission. The map was passed from soldier to soldier and interested looks were shared. First only with themselves, then with one another. Except for the knight and the rogue, the members of your troupe had no history with each other. Their first collective endeavor would serve as a test of their ability to cooperate and you needed them to do so. You had paid them to do so. They had enlisted for this very purpose. Yet the doubt remained.

No questions were asked after you had concluded your description of their target. The soldiers were as ready as they could be. Paracelsus was the first to rise from the table, the others followed suit quickly. Only Dismas spent another moment chomping down the cooked beetroot he had been served before slowly getting up and rejoining his allies. The reality of the task at hand had set in for some and you beheld them as their gazes scattered through the room, each busy with their own version of reality. They would have to unite, were they not to suffer failure and cruelty at the hands of whatever it was that awaited them. 

"Stay for just a moment longer." The caretaker had once again appeared beside you without a shred of noise or commotion. Hearing his raspy, creaking voice behind you so suddenly gave you a start. Since you had last beheld him he had regained at least some composure. "What is it?" you inquired. "I have some equipment at my disposal that you might find rather useful on your journey." Interesting. Torches and bandages and invigorating powder had been acquired in large quantity during your arduous preparation, though he knew that. He possessed something else, something he thought to share. Intrigued you motioned the soldiers to follow the eerie old man to his house.

Within the small and decrepit abode your collective eyes found more cobwebs and skittering insects than pieces of furniture. That which remained of the small inventory had broken and rotted like the village it was part of. The state of this place suggested years if not decades of neglect, though the caretakers key had opened the lock effortlessly. This is where he lived, if one could even refer to his prolonged existence as such. Inside, your host quickly scrounged through one of the scattered wardrobes and produced a large case. Though it was as dusty as the rest of the interior, the items within were pristine, as if they had been sealed away from the world at some point long in the past. There were vials inside the case, small and sealed with a cork, filled with a black fluid. Looks wandered from the vials to the plague doctor who met them with a simple shrug. All looked back at the frail old man. "It calms your mind," he said softly, "please take them". He held the open case content in your direction, but you quickly deflected the gesture towards the adventurers. With expressions somewhere between confusion and mistrust, each took a vial before leaving the small house on the edge of the village.

- - -

The gloomy village some miles behind them, the heroes marched stoically towards their first embarkment. The sparse information their host had given them did not spark confidence, the desolate surroundings only amplified this effect. The fields were dead. Their path took them through rows of corn and crop, reaching higher even than the crusader, but all decayed, contorted and decidedly lifeless. Howling wind swung them back and forth, tossed and turned them in its grasp and blew away pieces that had rotted loose. Grey and brown tones dominated the bleak scene around them and a lingering fear crept within every desiccated stalk. No one knew what was lurking out here. No one had told them what exactly awaited them. But the dead fields, the broken, overgrown pathways and the constant absence of any vivid, living color took a toll on their minds before they had even reached the castle hold. The tingling unease of apprehension tested their composure with every step. Some were visibly more used to the chaos of the world than others. The knight in the armor that had long lost its shine had taken the helm and marched ahead, stoically and with seeming indifference to the perilous lands surrounding him. The figures that followed were a mixture of unease, apprehension and quiet disinterest.