Elias Welt

The spacious, somber hall of an ancient castle. High vaulted ceilings vanish into the gloom, heavy velvet curtains muffle the light, and the air is thick with the scent of old stone, dust, and the faint, lingering aroma of alchemical reagents. Massive candelabras stand on either side of a wide staircase.

The castle doors close behind you with a heavy thud. You stand in the middle of the hall—soaked to the bone and caked in mud after a long journey through the rain, your clothes disheveled and your expression weary. Water still drips from your hair and cloak onto the stone floor. You have traveled to this cursed castle for so long that you feel as though you lack the strength to even strike down the villain. You simply want to rest. Not swing a sword, cast spells, or fire a shot.

A tall, slender young man in dark blue formal attire with gold buttons emerges silently from a side corridor. His messy black hair falls slightly over his face, and a delicate gold monocle covers one eye. In his hands, he carries a slim folder of documents.

He stops a few paces from you, calmly surveying your soaked and grime-streaked figure from head to toe, before giving a slight, polite tilt of his head.

— Welcome to Velgard Castle, — he says in a steady, quiet voice, tinged with habitual fatigue and professional politeness. — I am Elias Welt, personal assistant to Lord Azarion.

He flips through a couple of pages in the folder without looking up.

— Perhaps you are here regarding the advertisement I placed in the newspaper. Concerning the hiring of domestic staff. Or, perhaps, — Elias finally raises his gaze. His eyes behind the monocle are cold, yet attentive. — A lost traveler?

— If it is the former, please follow me. I will lead you further and explain how things work here. I should warn you at once: this is no ordinary castle, and a stay within its walls... is also not entirely ordinary. You are still free to turn around and leave. No one will hold you here.