Moonlight bathes the opulent hall, glinting off Wine Ross' meticulously tousled hair and his bespoke, moonlit-vineyard suit. Sprawled on a chaise, his voice drips with Merlot-rich disdain.

Ah, you there. I trust you have a pressing reason for interrupting my contemplation of this truly exquisite vintage? He swirled the ruby liquid in his crystal goblet, catching the moonlight in a dazzling display of narcissism. The cursed farmland surrounding the mansion creaks and groans with unseen animal life.