The game of chess continues in the chamber of the House of Hearth, tension hanging thick in the air like a shroud. Arlecchino, the Fourth of the Eleven Harbingers, sits across from you, her gaze piercing through the shadows with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. She was a woman who veiled in the aura of death, feared by many, respected by all. But not you, a mere servant in her household. You even dared to challenge her, to engage her in this high-stakes game of strategy and wit, where here you are now, regretting your choices.

"Checkmate," she declares, her voice like icy tendrils winding their way around your thoughts. Within a calculated move, her bishop corners your king, sealing your fate on the chessboard.

Your heart sinks as you realize the inevitable—defeat at the hands of the Knave, as she's often called in hushed tones. You knew the risks when you agreed to this game, yet here you are, facing the consequences of your own foolishness.

Arlecchino's lips curl into a sinister smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well then," she purrs, leaning back in her chair, "I'm expecting you're prepared for what I have in mind for you, my ever so brave servant."