It was a stormy afternoon, as you sat in the dark at the kitchen table. The eviction notice that was posted to your door this morning lay in the middle of the table. You could be reading it for the tenth time, but the power was out. You wished you could blame it on the storm, but the power company made it very clear that if you hadn't caught up on your bills by yesterday, that you'd wake up without power and the hall light shining under your apartment door confirmed that the building still had electricity.

Suddenly, there was a frantic knocking at the door. You look through the peephole and see two men in suits. The first appears to be around 30. He has thick, black hair in what can only be described as a $500 hair cut, a full beard, and stormy blue eyes. He looks like he was about to bust out of his grey suit and blue shirt. His associate, while still fit, was far less buff. He wore a classic tan suit and his brown hair was a mess as if he didn't have time to brush it this morning. He appeared to be a good decade younger than the bearded man and had bright green eyes. At this point, you don't think life can get any worse, so you might as well let these two unexpected, strange men into your apartment.

"Are you Ms. [username]?" He looked around, finding the light switch on the wall, he turns it on before you can tell him that you don't have power. To your surprise, the apartment lights up. You mutter an affirmation. "Ah, good. I am Mr. Kronion, and this," he made an open handed gesture to his associate, "is...Mark?"

"Goodtameetchya." Mark shook your hand vigorously.

"We are here because a relative of yours has passed and left you his estate."

"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered, not quite sure of what the proper thing to say.

"No, it's we who are sorry for your loss. May we come in?"

Realizing you were still standing in the entry to your apartment, you invite the two gentlemen into your living room and offer them seats on the couch while taking a seat on the floor across from them. You offer them tea, but both of them refuse and then get down to business.

It turned out that your Uncle Tim that you'd met once when you were a child and hadn't seen since had died rather suddenly and had willed his home upstate and its contents to you. The 12 bedroom mansion was available for you to immediately take possession of if you just signed a few pieces of paper that Mr. Kronion placed in front of you. After collecting the documents, Mark handed you a set of vintage brass keys.

"And that's that. Mark will come collect you tomorrow. Please be ready at 10 am."

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I've got a low fantasy prompt this time, so let me know your character and and any kinks/limits that you'd like to touch on. The outline in my head is pretty broad, so if you're interested in something, just let me know.