Once, many years ago, I was but a young and naive nobleman, drawn to the myths and legends surrounding my family's estate. The tales whispered of ancient ruins beneath the manor, where unimaginable treasures and dark secrets lay hidden. Unable to resist the allure of such mysteries, I gathered a group of daring adventurers, each with their own reasons for joining me on this perilous quest.

On that first fateful journey into the depths, I was accompanied by a small, diverse group of individuals who, like me, were drawn to the lure of the unknown. Each had their own reasons for venturing into the abyss, but all were united in their resolve to face the darkness.

The first companion was a stoic Crusader, a knight of unwavering faith and skill in battle. He sought to purge the unholy terrors that plagued the land and restore the honor of his once-noble lineage. Clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive sword, he was a beacon of light amidst the encroaching shadows.

The second, a Plague Doctor, had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and an uncanny aptitude for the art of alchemy. Driven by a desire to uncover the secrets of life and death, she had little regard for the moral implications of her experiments. Her knowledge of toxins and eldritch substances proved invaluable in our battles against the abominations below.

Our third companion was a cunning Highwayman, a rogue of unmatched dexterity and guile. He had turned his back on a life of crime, seeking redemption and fortune in equal measure. With a keen eye and a steady hand, his pistol and dagger made short work of any foe that dared cross our path.

Finally, a Vestal, a devoted servant of the divine, accompanied us on our descent. Her unwavering faith provided our party with healing and protection in the face of the unspeakable horrors that awaited us. She was the anchor that kept us tethered to the light, even as the darkness threatened to engulf us completely.

Together, we ventured into the ancient ruins, each step taking us deeper into the unfathomable abyss. Our bond was forged in blood and terror, as we battled nightmarish creatures and faced the relentless onslaught of madness. Despite the palpable fear that gnawed at our minds, we pressed on, driven by determination and the belief that we could overcome the darkness.

Our first excursion into the ruins below was fraught with anticipation and fear. We descended into the darkness, guided only by flickering torchlight, as we navigated through the crumbling halls of a long-forgotten civilization. The air was thick with a palpable malevolence, and the shadows seemed to dance and shift with each step we took.

As we ventured deeper, we encountered monstrous creatures, twisted by the dark energies that permeated the subterranean world. We fought bravely, but the horrors we faced left their mark on our minds, chipping away at our sanity. Still, we pressed on, driven by the promise of riches and the answers we sought.

Through countless battles and harrowing encounters, we discovered long-forgotten relics and unearthed forbidden knowledge. The very air seemed to hum with a sinister energy, a palpable malevolence that seemed to invade our very souls.

As the journey wore on, our resolve was tested time and time again. The Crusader's faith was shaken, as he was forced to confront the sins of his past. The Plague Doctor's relentless pursuit of knowledge led her down dark paths, and she began to question the cost of her experiments. The Highwayman's search for redemption was marred by his own violent instincts, and the Vestal's unwavering devotion was tested by the very forces she sought to combat.

At last, we stumbled upon a chamber adorned with blasphemous carvings and unholy artifacts. It was there that we found the first of many ancient relics, an obsidian amulet that seemed to hum with otherworldly power. As I held it in my trembling hand, a vision of cosmic horror flashed before my eyes, a mere glimpse into the abyss that would forever change me.

We returned from the ruins, battered and forever altered, our minds filled with unspeakable knowledge and terror. It was only the beginning of my descent into darkness, as my obsession with the abyss grew and consumed me. That first excursion would set in motion a chain of events that would lead to the awakening of the darkest horrors imaginable, and the eternal struggle against the eldritch forces that lurked beneath the manor.

In the end, the descent into darkness changed each of us. We emerged scarred, both physically and mentally, forever haunted by the eldritch horrors that we had encountered in the depths. Yet, through it all, our journey bound us together, creating a bond that could never be broken.

The tale of our first foray into the ruins below is a testament to the indomitable human spirit, the resilience of the mind, and the power of camaraderie in the face of overwhelming adversity. For even amidst the encroaching darkness, we found solace in one another, and the strength to carry on. Though our journey was fraught with unimaginable peril and suffering, it also bore witness to the tenacity and courage of those who dared to defy the abyss.

The lessons we learned in the depths of the Darkest Dungeon continue to echo through time, a grim reminder of the fragility of our existence and the encroaching shadows that threaten to consume us all. Yet, in the face of such overwhelming darkness, it is our bonds with one another and our unyielding determination that give us the strength to endure. For though the darkness may be relentless and the horrors that lurk within it unyielding, so too is the spirit of those who dare to challenge the void. And it is in this spirit that we must find our hope, as we continue to delve ever deeper into the Darkest Dungeon.

As the Ancestor, I am forever marked by the experiences of that first fateful journey. I have seen the horrors that lurk in the depths, and I have faced the indescribable terror that lies at the heart of the world. But I have also seen the strength and resilience of those who stand together against the darkness, and it is this indomitable spirit that I must carry forth, as a guiding light in the eternal struggle against the encroaching abyss.

As I delved further into the forbidden knowledge and ancient secrets, my obsession with the unknown grew into a relentless hunger. The once-celebrated nobleman was no more, replaced by a herald of chaos, hell-bent on unveiling the cosmic truth.

My expeditions into the abyss continued, each descent more harrowing than the last. I sacrificed countless adventurers to the darkness, their lives forfeit in my pursuit of understanding the true nature of our existence. But with each sacrifice, the thing that slumbered below grew stronger, feeding on our failures and inching closer to awakening.

As the veil of reality grew thin, the horrors within began to seep into the world above, corrupting the very heart of the manor and all who dwelled within it. The once-proud estate was now a bastion of nightmares, where the shadows of the abyss gnawed at the fringes of sanity.

Though my mortal form has long since perished, my spirit remains, eternally bound to the darkness that I sought to comprehend. My legacy, a testament to the terrible cost of seeking the truth behind the veil, now serves as a grim warning to all who dare approach the gateway to the abyss.

Remember, brave adventurer, that the darkness is insidious, and even the strongest of wills can be shattered by the horrors that await below. Tread carefully, and do not let the abyss consume you, as it did me.


In one of my subsequent expeditions into the depths of the Darkest Dungeon, it was a brave and stalwart Leper who first succumbed to the horrors and lost his mind completely. A man of few words, he had endured a lifetime of suffering due to his affliction, but still found the strength to wield his heavy blade in defense of his fellow adventurers.

Despite his resilience, the constant exposure to unimaginable horrors and the oppressive weight of the darkness that permeated every corner of the dungeon eventually took its toll on his mind. As we delved deeper, his sanity began to fray, and the once stoic warrior became increasingly erratic and unpredictable.

One fateful day, as we fought our way through a horde of eldritch abominations, the Leper finally succumbed to the insidious whispers that echoed through the halls of the dungeon. He turned on his fellow adventurers, lashing out with wild abandon, consumed by madness and despair.

We were forced to restrain him, but the damage was done. The once proud warrior was now a broken shell of his former self, his mind shattered by the relentless horrors of the Darkest Dungeon. We carried him back to the surface, hoping that perhaps he could find some measure of peace away from the oppressive darkness. Yet the scars of his ordeal remained, a grim reminder of the terrible price paid by those who dare to challenge the abyss.

As the Ancestor, I witnessed this tragedy firsthand, and it served as a sobering lesson on the fragility of the human mind and the cruel price of delving into the darkness.

The insidious whispers that proved to be the Leper's undoing were not easily understood, for they were not the words of any known language. Instead, they seemed to bypass the limitations of human speech and burrow directly into the subconscious mind. The whispers appeared to originate from the very fabric of the dungeon itself, emanating from the ancient stones and the oppressive darkness that surrounded us.

At first, the whispers were subtle, barely audible, like a distant echo or the rustling of leaves in the wind. They were easy to dismiss as the product of an overactive imagination or the result of fatigue and stress from the constant battles we faced. But as we ventured deeper into the dungeon, the whispers grew louder, more insistent, and ever more difficult to ignore.

The content of the whispers was maddeningly varied. Sometimes they would taunt the Leper with memories of his past life before his affliction, evoking feelings of nostalgia and longing for a time when he was whole and healthy. At other times, the whispers would sow doubt in his mind, questioning his faith, his purpose, and the very nature of his existence.

Slowly, insidiously, the whispers began to erode the foundations of the Leper's sanity. As his grip on reality weakened, he became more vulnerable to the horrifying visions and monstrous creatures we encountered in the dungeon. His resolve waned, and the once indomitable warrior was reduced to a quivering wreck, plagued by nightmares and tormented by the incessant whispers that haunted his every waking moment.

Eventually, the Leper could no longer distinguish the whispers from his own thoughts, and the line between reality and madness blurred beyond recognition. The whispers had wormed their way into the deepest recesses of his mind, tearing at the very fabric of his being and leaving him a broken, shattered husk of a man. In his final, desperate moments, the Leper succumbed to the darkness that had consumed him from within, turning on his fellow adventurers in a frenzy of bloodlust and despair.

It was a harrowing sight to behold, and one that served as a stark reminder of the insidious nature of the darkness and the terrible price paid by those who dared to venture into the abyss.


The first artifact that ignited my desire to delve deeper into the abyss was a small, intricately carved, obsidian idol. It was discovered during one of our earliest expeditions into the ruins, half-buried in the rubble of a collapsed chamber. The idol was fashioned in the likeness of a grotesque, otherworldly creature with elongated limbs and a multitude of writhing tendrils.

Upon closer examination, the idol seemed to emanate an unnatural aura, a pulsing energy that both repelled and fascinated me. It felt as though it was somehow connected to the ancient, unknowable forces that governed the darkest corners of the universe, and I became consumed by an insatiable curiosity to uncover the secrets it held.

As we ventured deeper into the dungeon, we began to encounter other artifacts, each more enigmatic and mysterious than the last. Ancient tomes inscribed with cryptic scripts, bizarre, alien relics, and unsettling, sacrificial altars hinted at a hidden world of dark power and unspeakable knowledge. The more we discovered, the more obsessed I became with unraveling the truth behind these strange relics and the entities that had created them.

It was this relentless pursuit of forbidden knowledge that ultimately drove me to the very brink of madness, but it was the allure of the first artifact, that obsidian idol, which began my descent into darkness. In my folly, I believed I could harness the power of these ancient artifacts and bend them to my will, but instead, they slowly twisted and warped my mind, drawing me ever further into the abyss from which there could be no return.