In the heart of the ancient forest, where the mist perpetually clung to the gnarled trees like a shroud, there stood the remnants of what was once a grand manor. Its walls, now crumbled and overgrown with ivy, whispered of its sinister past. The locals avoided the path that led to its gates, for it was said that the manor was cursed by the ghost of its former lord, a man whose cruelty was as legendary as his wealth.
As the tale goes, Lord Alistair, driven by an insatiable greed, had struck a dark bargain with a shadowy entity. In exchange for untold riches, he offered the souls of his guests, luring them to his manor with promises of lavish feasts and merriment. One by one, his unsuspecting victims would vanish, their screams echoing through the corridors, only to be silenced by the thick stone walls.
But greed has a price, and so did Lord Alistair’s pact. On a stormy night, with the manor brimming with unsuspecting nobility, the entity came to collect. The air turned cold, and a darkness descended upon the house, darker than the night outside. The guests were consumed by an unseen force, their spirits forever trapped within the manor’s confines.
Lord Alistair, realizing the horror he had unleashed, attempted to flee, but the entity had other plans. It bound his spirit to the manor, condemning him to witness the torment of the souls he had betrayed. His ghostly form now roams the halls, a ghastly figure of despair, eternally seeking to escape his own treachery.
Adventurers and thrill-seekers who dare to enter the manor tell of chilling encounters, of whispers in the dark, and of a malevolent presence that watches from the shadows. Some have glimpsed the spectral figure of Lord Alistair, his eyes hollow with regret, before he vanishes into the ether.
So beware the call of the ancient manor, for those who step through its gates might never return, their souls added to the legion of the damned, ensnared by the ghost of a man whose greed knew no bounds.