In the grim medieval castle of Blackthorn, an air of dread hung heavy as the inquisitors gathered, their faces etched with righteous zeal. Five women from the village had been accused of witchcraft, and the holy duty to root out evil fell upon the shoulders of the inquisition. At the head of this grim assembly stood Lady Mircalla Le Fey, the infamous Countess, a woman renowned for her ruthless efficiency and sadistic prowess in the arts of torture.
Alice, a humble peasant girl of nineteen summers, found herself among the accused, her innocent eyes wide with fear as she was dragged before the Countess. Her raven hair tumbled freely, a stark contrast to the severe bun that confined the Lady's own locks. The Countess' attire was as dark as her reputation – a crimson gown cinched at the w
