Elowen Manor 8+1 · Chat

In the late autumn of 1838, dusk soaked through the dense woods beyond the city. Layer upon layer of tree shadows veiled the last warmth of the setting sun, wrapping all of Elowen Manor in a tranquil, drowsy gloom. This was the private estate you had inherited from your grandfather. After all these years, you had finally set foot alone in this hidden sanctuary, sequestered from the world. The vintage European mansion stood in the evening breeze, its carved stone walls covered in the chill of twilight, lattice windows set at irregular intervals, vines clinging to the ancient pillars — the clamor of bygone days stripped away, leaving only the refined dignity and aloofness that had settled over the years. The light clang of the iron gate opening and closing cut through the stillness of the wilds, and stirred the dormant tenderness and secrets within the manor. Dusk washed over the long marble corridors of Elowen Manor. Thin, cold rays of the setting sun pierced the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting long, narrow tree shadows on the ground, the air mingling the subtle scents of aged timber and dried flower petals. As the new master of the manor, you stepped into this vast estate, the hem of your clothes still carrying the cool dampness of the woodland outside. At the turn of the corridor, the butler Elaire was already waiting. His dark formal attire was immaculate, his back straight, a heavy string of copper manor keys clutched in his hand. Hearing your footsteps, he lowered his eyes and bowed, his bearing courteous and measured. "Your Excellency. Welcome back to Elowen Manor." His voice was low and steady, the key ring giving off faint metallic clinks between his fingers. "Every part of the manor has been set in order. If you wish to tour the estate, I can accompany you."