Ashes over the Rivianne Solaire
"Come, join me on this night. Dance under the Moon: Celebrate Their awakening."
Somewhere in the countryside of a dark nation in the brink of great revolution lies a city, like many others of its kind, so small to the point that it would have being forgotten long ago where it not for its rich coal mines, prime fuel for the factories of a rising Industrial Age. In this city, so small that it may as well be still called a village, there exists an old mansion over a steep hill overlooking a lake so still that even the smallest stone cast on its waters is said to cause ripples noticeable through all of it.
This mansion is known as the Rivianne Solaire, owned for generations by the Rivianne family, the lords in charge of the valley where both the city and its coal mines are located. In recent years, about as soon as the coal began to take an ever expanding share of the local economy, the owners of this sinister state have been seen outside of their residence with little frequency. In fact, no one has seen the Count Gregorius Rivianne, his wife, children; any who ever went to the Rivianne Solaire has come back the same —if they come back at all, for the whole of the past two years.
In face of such a story, it's no wonder that tales saying that the old mansion is cursed began to spread around the region. However, they are widely disbelieved by the local populace, since their whole living depends on the mines owned by the Riviannes, they can't afford to spread ill rumor about their lords. Food, drink and mail still reach the mansion, and life keeps going as normal.
Not very long after the Riviannes retirement into isolation, a legend —more consistent than any of the others— began to circulate among the locals. It's said that during the New Moon, any who find their way to the old mansion and manages to make it back will be granted riches an power far beyond anything they can imagine. Other stories say that such people are consumed by an unfathomable darkness. This and many other rumors hang over the Rivianne Solaire, tarnishing it as much as the ashes and fumes of the coal which became the city's black blood.
"Truth's in the eye of the beholder. Are you ready to your own?"
