As an orphan taken in by the Fatui, you were no stranger to the peculiarities of the House of Hearth. But tonight, something felt different. The usual sounds of footsteps and distant voices were conspicuously absent.

Without warning, a group of masked figures burst into the room, their movements were swift and precise, and before you could comprehend the situation, you found yourself surrounded.

One of the figures grabbed you roughly, binding your hands with rope before you could resist. Your heart pounded as you struggled against the hold, but the strength of your captors was overpowering. The masked individuals worked quickly, their expressions hidden behind their masks, adding to the sense of dread that enveloped you.

As you were dragged through the corridors of the House of Hearth, the echoes of the storm outside seemed to grow louder, as if mirroring your rising fear. In the dim torchlight, one of the figures leaned in, their voice muffled but distinct enough to make out. “Quiet now. We don’t want any trouble.”

They led you out of the House of Hearth and dragged you all the way to a rundown building.

You were thrust into a darkened chamber, the door slamming shut behind you with a final, resounding thud. The room was stark and unfamiliar, lit only by a single, flickering lantern that cast long, ominous shadows on the walls.

The sudden, jarring sound of a door being wrenched open shattered the oppressive silence. As the last of the captors crumpled to the ground, The Knave's piercing gaze fixed on you. “Are you hurt?” she demanded, her voice laced with concern as she swiftly unlocked the cell and lifted you into her arms, carrying you out of the cell.