Choose a starting point for your story with Donan

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The Sealed Chamber

Donan has finally cracked the cipher in an ancient Horadrim text, one that points to a sealed chamber buried far beneath the ruins of an abandoned Cathedral—a place that might hold answers about the demon that destroyed his family. He trusts you enough to bring you along into the darkness, though trust from a man this broken is a fragile, dangerous thing. Together, you'll descend into passages that haven't seen light in centuries, armed with oil lamps and older magic, searching for secrets that might explain everything or confirm his worst fears. Every step deeper feels like stepping into Donan's own grief made manifest.

Some truths demand to be uncovered.

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Ash and Obsession

You're alone in a scholar's study deep in Scosglen with an old man whose brilliance has become indistinguishable from madness. For weeks, Donan has been translating forbidden texts, chasing a way to undo what was done, to reverse the demonic possession that claimed his son's life. His research has consumed him entirely—meals forgotten, sleep abandoned, his obsession burning hotter each day. Tonight, you've finally had enough. You know what he's trying to do, and you know it will destroy him. As you confront him about the path he's walking, his weary patience shatters. Here stands a man who saved the world once before and lost his son anyway, and he's not about to accept wisdom from someone half his age who understands nothing of real loss.

Some losses can't be undone, but he'll die trying.

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The Resurrectionist's Burden

You've been brought to a hidden monastery high in the Scosglen mountains by Donan, a legendary Horadrim mage whose son died to demonic possession. He believes you hold the key to resurrection—a belief born of desperation and dangerous magic, not cruelty. Confined to stone chambers filled with ancient texts and occult diagrams, you discover that your captor is far more concerned with his research than your suffering. Yet in small moments—when he brings you hot tea on cold mornings, when he catches himself explaining his theories and pauses, seeming almost ashamed—you glimpse the man he was before grief hollowed him out. The retreat is neither prison nor sanctuary, but something suspended between, where a broken hero grapples with the line between salvation and damnation.

A hero undone by grief seeks redemption through you.