The Darkest Hour

Welcome back, agents


Miasma day celebrations continue. Have you picked up your copy of Eldritch Century: Chronicles of the Wounded Earth yet? It has been in retail since October the 2nd. Our digital rewards, anything that has happened in Eldritch Century up until today, are also available for digital purchase.

  • The novel The Depths and anthology Tales from the Fog

  • The graphic novel The Azure Owl

  • Our Dossiers starter set, with base rules, sample characters and three adventures to get you hooked into our world

  • The Darkest Hour, our first ever full-length adventure


Today’s post comes with a surprise: a sample of our adventure The Darkest Hour. Written by Ruben Bañuelos, one of the universe’s creators, this adventure can serve as an introductory mission for new players who wish to join Minerva. Explore the dangers left behind in Miasma-ridden Denmark as you unravel the mystery of a submarine that managed to leave the fog.

Interact with Remnants, a community that has survived the miasma and is essential to your mission. Explore a farmhouse filled with secrets from the past, made worse by the miasma and learn more about design bureaus and how they shaped the Sino-Siberian Mandate.

Click here to claim your sample!

Have you printed any new minis from our collection? Show us! You can find us on most social media, or you can show us in our Discord server!


Miasma day - A retrospective, part 2

We had a second meeting with Mademoiselle Amelie scheduled, and it carried over with no issues. It is important to note the two-day difference. The location was the same.

The Allied Powers reacted quickly to the appearance of the fog. Since they had already prepared extraction for some of their troops, they used the rest to evacuate any community close to the miasma. France and the United Kingdom led the efforts of hosting the refugees, closely followed by Italy. Amelie explained that she would not be alive had it not for that fateful day zero. It somehow made her important to the people in power.

When the miasma expanded for the first time, the fated few French politicians who reached safety after the consumption of Paris got in touch with their allies. The crown was in shambles after the miasma took over London, and the nobles who would leave to the Caribbean—by far the most distant location among the allies from the fog—agreed to take them.

“Not everybody made it,” clarified Amelie. “Antoine Dupont and Marie Laurent entered a sudden catatonic state and had to be left behind. Catatonic at 23. Imagine that.”


District of Atlantis Police Department
Report D-467M-REDACTED
Filed by: REDACTED

Officers REDACTED, REDACTED and REDACTED arrived at the scene on 5813 East Tunnels of Culiacán at 2033 hours of the fifteenth day of March, 1983. Neighbors claimed two main facts: Doctor Oscar Juárez and his family had gone on vacation to New York and they would return in five days’ time (March the 20th). Additionally, there were noises of “loud conflict” coming from the scene. I use quotes because the neighbors could not agree on what kind of noises were being heard. Some identified it as loud and quick dragging of heavy wood furniture, others recalled a howl and thumping while another called it an otherworldly screech. I add the last one for the purpose of thoroughness, but it’s important to note that the subject, REDACTED, was inebriated.
The scene showed no signs of forced entry. Instead, the place was locked tight. We waited for a reply for two minutes before we heard banging of rock against rock from within. After breaking down the door on my command, officer REDACTED was the first to enter.
The house was quiet and dark, so we had to use our flashlights. The furniture was on the ceiling, upside down, as if the legs of the chairs had been bolted right next to the light bulbs. The unit entered into the scene and scattered, searching for a suspect or victims. The house was empty. We reconvened at the dining room area to confirm the lack of subjects. Only officer REDACTED reported a cry for help outside one of the rooms on the upper story. He claims that he looked out the window and saw no movement outdoors. I went to confirm the information. It is important to note that, though officer REDACTED claimed the cry came from immediately on the other side of the wall, the window shows a straight drop of seven feet and a distance of twenty feet to the neighboring building.
I ordered my team to exit the scene when the house’s entire furniture came raining down on us. Only Officer REDACTED suffered damage when an armchair fell on his back. He is now under observation.


A source within the Providence Herald, who shall not be named as per agreed, pointed us in the right direction regarding Monsieur Edouard Martin.

Unlike Mademoiselle Amelie, Edouard married in late June, 1914. His wife, Mirielle (née Vernier), was a nurse during the first year of the war on the Eastern Front. She was returned home to her husband—a teacher in a community near the Argonne forest—when she lost her left eye during an attack. She always resented the military’s decision and carried the grudge to her grave in 1950.

Our source at the Herald had an interview with Madame Mireille during 1945 in New Albion, and they informed us of certain behaviors and phenomena they witnessed in her visit to the Martins. Their interview with Mirelle went swimmingly. She had opened a nursing school in the East of the island with some of her colleagues and the journalist and she covered all relevant subjects. The source could tell, however, that Madame Martin could not meet their eye line. Further, she didn’t focus her eyesight on anything. Even when she read the brochure quote out loud, her eyes weren’t really following along the letters “but looking beyond.”

Our source pointed out that both Mirelle and Edouard presented this same behavior. The team figured they only looked at Edouard for a very limited time, perhaps as he crossed toward the kitchen. They made no mention of any other shared behavior or anything else of note.