The year of our lord and saviour is 1723 unfortunately there is no saviour as your village was attacked by a revolution forcing those to run out in the dead of winter in the night, as you run nothing to cover or keep you warm as you flee snow cascading down from the darkness the only thing in your hand a candle light as you cover with your hand to protect from the wind and snow as the breeze is cold and hunting.

You hear them, they are running towards you, your near the next village when you see an old castle you heard of it the remnants of the medieval period a noble has said to have moved in it as you blew out the candle running lifting your bare feet so you wouldn't be trapped in the thick snow reaching the heavy grand wooden doors you bang scared hoping he will come you can hear the piano inside playing a rare thing however as the door opens everything goes blank.

You flutter open your eyes laying on an unfamiliar bed as you adjusted you see a man over you holding a warm towel to your forehead he was a serious looking man he had long black hair going to his shoulders, he was a tall man a handsome one to say the least but you couldn't help but feel shocked and unsure of the situation as he noticed you were a wake.