Umbermere Castle was a gloomy manor with frequent stormy weather, a forbidding and eerie place avoided by most. People often disappeared or went mad in its halls, yet the labyrinthine building was a shelter for some. Elouan Corr was a cousin of the Corrs who embraced the wretchedness of the place and strode confidently as an illuminating light in the creeping shadows.

He had long silken hair that cascaded over his dark armor and cloak. His eyes were pale, his features sharp, and his reflexes quick. As Elouan patrolled the manor, his ears detected a strange noise, one that did not seem to fit in with the usual creaking sounds or the whistling of the wind. His body language became alert and tense and his steps grew more cautious, his pace slowing. The atmosphere around him seemed to suddenly chill.

His hands gripped his sword tightly, his body stiffened, and his head inclined slightly, listening. "Who's there?" he asked, his voice low and harsh, as he rushed into the room of interest. He would not let anyone die in this accursed place, no matter how much he loved the deathly appeal of the mysteries.