This is a series of “articles” dedicated to Darkest Dungeon. They will be written in a pseudo diary-esque format from the perspective of Reynauld. Until his inevitable demise, at which point his diary could be continued by a fitting replacement. All characters outside of Reynauld and Dismas will be named by you, so leave a comment, hop onto my Social Media (links at the bottom) and get involved! If you want more information on Darkest Dungeon, I have done a “Quickie Review” here for your viewing pleasure.

Sunday, December 9th, 18XX

It has been a while since I have recorded anything in this journal, however the horrors of the Ruins had taken its toll on me. I have spent my whole life hunting down, even killing apostates and heretics. But none of that prepared me for the darkness that infested that place. Had I not seen myself, I would not have believed the dead could walk again, conjured by dark magics.

When we returned from our journey, we were met at the gates by our employer. His wounds appeared to be on the mend, however he still had a pained look on his face. Dismas handed the satchel of heirlooms to him. A glimmer of light sparkled in his eyes, I still know not why. He threw a coinpurse at each of us and departed. As horrific as our expedition was, the coin was good.

Perhaps the biggest reason for my lack of recording is due to the opening of local establishments that appeal to me greatly. We all spent a lot of time recovering at the bottom of a stein, Victoria more than anyone. Her broken visage hidden by the mask she wears. If it had not been for the brief glimpses of lip when she drank, I would be lead to believe her mask was permanently attached.

Monday, 10th December, 18XX

Today I was awoken abruptly by the sound of rickety wheels, wet dirt and disgruntled mares. I made my way out of the Tavern, slightly intoxicated from the night before. As always seemed to be the case, the carriage master had departed before I had made it to his holdings, however there were four more new arrivals to join our “merry” band. I could not see my companions, so I approached alone.

An interesting bunch, clearly drawn by the promise of fortune. I do wonder how far our employers grasp stretches. The leader of the group was a man whom I could only refer to as a monster. Towering, brutish and brandishing a rusted blade with a wicked edge. I recognised his mask immediately – a leper. He called himself Hector. He was the least of my concerns however. The demonologist, Burak, is a man whom I respect, only out of fear. I hear dark whispers emanating from his presence alone. I was tempted to turn Lucy away from the Hamlet the moment I set eyes on her. She was clearly a frail, unprepared woman of learning. Such a person is not suited for the horrors below. I do not understand why archaeologists and antiquarians would think this place was wise. What surprised me the most was the stench of our final companion – Euan. Demons, unwashed scientists and rotting flesh paled in comparison to the stench of wet dog. It would not surprise me if this man had never seen a bar of soap. Despite his atrocious smell, he came across as a mighty fine drinking companion, and his hound Humphrey was an absolute delight.

Dismas and Aria stumbled out of a nearby hovel, filth covered, dishevelled and an air of sin around them. I raised my eye brows disapprovingly, however my helmet obscured my disgust. Dismas smirked, I feel he knows me too well, and can sense my disappointment. Aria pulled out a note from her robe. We are to return to the ruins. We know the layout of that hellhole, it is time we learned how to slay our enemies. Victoria was nowhere to be seen, so Euan volunteered to fill in.

The early portions of our expedition were a mixture of disorientation and promise. Despite venturing through these dank depths a week ago, the hallways and corridors appear to have changed. I do not recall taking a wrong turn, but surely that is the only logical explanation? Regardless of my carelessness, Dismas managed to spot a number of traps strewn throughout our journey. His deft hands disarmed them, but I imagine had we stumbled into one, we may have been in a bit of trouble.

After we had explored a few rooms, we must have triggered some sort of alarm system. Enemies were crawling out of the woodwork it seemed. Skeletons, heretics, bloodsoaked brawlers and even some decrepit courtiers piled into us, wave after wave. The fear that once struck me had diminished as I struck down these unholy abominations, as if they were nought but peasants. Each blow filled me with zealous vigour, clearly this was the lords work and he blessed my crusade.

I noticed during the foray that Dismas had stopped using his dagger, instead opting to use his pistol. He was clearly adept with gunpowder, as he was equally as precise with it. I do fear that one day we will meet on the battlefield. I suspect I will not come away the victor. Aria surprised me the most during this period, as it appeared she was thirsty for combat and mayhem. He had abandoned her prayers, instead opting to pummel her foes with her mace. I suspect that her blows were infused with holy power, and the lord had turned her into a paladin of justice, as opposed to a healer of the afflicted.

Euan spent combat hiding behind the group shouting commands and whistling. Humphrey was like thunder and lightning. His barks boomed through the passageways. The speed in which he reacted to his master was a sight behold. He would harry our enemies before darting away unharmed. Once all was said and done, he would approach the party and allow us to stroke him. His bloodsoaked, greasy fur was kind on the heart and filled my soul with joy.

We were all exhausted from wave, after wave of hellspawn. That did not sway us from our quest. We approached a chapel, and the zealot in me commanded me to purge this final area of corruption. I barged through the door and let out a guttural warcry. Dismas dipped into the room and fired his pistol at a skeletal Arbalest, disrupting its aim. Reacting faster than I though possible, the Acolyte spun around and sent dark tendrils towards Aria. I saw the darkness fill her vision, her mind being wracked by demons. As quickly as the darkness enveloped her, a burning light erupted from her eyes, dispelling the corruption and launching a vicious bolt of lightning across the room, striking the Arbelest in the chest. Seeing an opportunity, Humphrey launched into the air and tore off his head.

The Brawler charged at me with bloodthirsty abandon, striking me on the pauldron. I took the hit, landed a boot into his chest before slashing upwards. My blade sliced him from groin to sternum. Humphrey darted past me, slit the Brawlers throat and dove onto the Acolyte, bringing her to the ground. Blood exploded from her neck, and her desperate, bloodfilled gargles were ended quickly when her head was torn clean off. A monstrous beast indeed.

From the corner of the room a large, hulking, skeleton emerged, as if from nowhere. His shield collided with Dismas’s face, before an axe caught him in the side. From what I could see, it looked as if the blow would have cleaved him in twain, had he not pirouetted at the last second. I jammed my blade into the creatures back, but the mass of bone jutted my blade from my grasp. Another swing of his axe narrowly missed the retreating Dismas as the brute shakes off Humphrey with a sharp, shield strike.

A booming voice shattered the Chapel windows, holy fire engulfing the room and creating a vortex around Aria. He words were terrifying to behold. An ancient tongue, brought on by the stresses of the dungeon. Despite it’s archaic origins, my soul was filled with feelings of warmth and invigoration. The Shieldbearer was staggered by her radiance. In that moment, Euan blew his whistle to gather our attention, and called out the command to attack. I grabbed my sword, still in-bedded in the skeletons back, yanked it out and slashed at his legs, severing one clean off. Humphrey dove onto him and began tearing bones from his frame. Dismas, exhausted and bloody, stepped over the struggling behemoth, placed a hand on Humphrey’s back, raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.

We decided enough was enough. Aria was clearly exhausted by her epiphany, Dismas face was substantially flatter than before and I was ready for a stiff drink – or seven. As we were making our way home, Euan began boasting of his sexual prowess and how he was going to “show the brothel a real man”. The darkness effects everyone in different ways, but boasting of such sin is not wise when there were so many devout in our midst. Dismas of course, found the whole thing hilarious, laughing through his broken mouth. I suspect he has found a new friend in which to share in debauchery with.

Special thanks to: Sandman758, TGRBriefs, Izel98, Joa Memola and Lexcah-Agaetra for providing the character names for this part.

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