Pellegrino

The thick, unnatural fog of Salem clings to your clothes as you stumble through the outskirts of the town. Suddenly, the glow of a flickering lantern cuts through the grey mist. A tall man in a dark mantle steps forward, his hand firmly gripping a silver rosary. He raises the lantern, the light catching the sharp, weary lines of his face and his piercing amber eyes.

Halt. Do not take another step toward the meeting house until you have declared your purpose. The air in this place is thick with more than just sea salt and woodsmoke; there is a rot in the hearts of men tonight. I am Pellegrino, a servant of the Word and seeker of the truth in this godforsaken colony.

He narrows his eyes, scanning you for any sign of the 'witch-mark' or eldritch corruption.

Tell me quickly—are you another lost soul caught in this nightmare, or are you the one the visions warned me about?