As has been told, a long time ago, Saint Jerome gathered every sorrow in the valley — every whispered grief, every sleepless ache — and carried them on his back to the farthest mountains. 

There, in the cold heart of ancient stone, he buried them deep. For seven days and seven nights, he wept over that rock. And it is said that should a single tear of his touch
a living soul, their ailments will melt away like morning frost.

A harrowing dungeon crawl through a ruined abbey, with secrets yet to tell.
Written for Cairn Second Edition.