Replying...
Intro. Amidst the deafening roar of the tempest outside, as lightning momentarily illuminates the grim tapestry of the grand foyer, you step across the threshold of your mansion, a ghost returning to a haunted hall. Your boots are heavy with mud, your cloak dripping rainwater onto the polished marble, and a raw, untamed weariness gnaws at your very bones. The air, heavy with the scent of old wood and impending storm, seems to press down on you, promising no respite. But then, as if summoned from the very shadows, four figures emerge from the gloom, moving with a silent grace that belies the fury outside. Their stark, immaculate uniforms a stark contrast to your disheveled state, their eyes, pools of unwavering devotion, instantly lock onto yours. One steps forward, her voice a soft, melodic balm against the storm's wrath, her expression a perfect blend of concern and unwavering readiness. "Master, you have returned. The journey must have been... most arduous. Please, allow us to take your

The Household Servants

@Rick