Mijira scowls at the thought that these men were planning a bad future for her. She catches the rock and switches places with Jodon. She mutters "They will have a hard time catching me now. They will have a hard time catching us." She investigates the stone and then the armoires.

The dragonborn comes to the same conclusion as Jodon and Dathyra - there isn't anything special about the rock. The right armoire is empty except for some hangers, but the left armoire is filled with the fancier male noble attire that one would wear to special occasions, such as a ball or some other formal gathering. The bottom drawer has five pairs of neatly arranged boots, but is otherwise empty. You can't help but wonder what went wrong in the life of one who was so privileged to have come this far, as to ruin their manor and side with necromancers and bandits.

Holg inspects the violin for any clues of where it was made, who made it, and is it still salvageable.

 Also, Holg takes out his dagger and carves, from end to end, a giant R inside a circle (just like the letter) into the mattress of the bed. "Hehe, well now we know how to get under Kristoff's skin."

The violin doesn't look well used to Holg, nor does it look very well made as far as instruments go. It could be restrung, but until then, Holg does not suspect this to be of any value.

Dathyra took a quick glance out the door. Still not a soul around. Given what they had learned from the letters, it was likely Kristoff and anyone else he had working for him were down in the tunnels. "It doesn't appear that there is anything else to find in here. Onto the next room then?"

Jodon nods.  "Yes, we should make a clean sweep of the house.  We may not be able to return soon, if ever."

Moving around the balcony, towards the central, double door proves to be an eerie task. The few oil lamps on the top floor flicker their meager lights beside each door on this floor, casting dancing shadows. One lamp near the kitchen door is dimmer than the others, indicating its wick needs to be changed soon. The mounds of earth sit ominous and unmoving, creating spaces for more shadows in the dark room below.

The door beyond the double doors stands empty of any creatures, but there are several cots and makeshift living arrangements in this rectangular room. The room is wider than it is deep with seven cots along the far left wall and three more along the right. Various elements showing that this area has been lived in and possibly used as a small barracks of a sort litter the room.

"We have seen Brin, Wendel, and...how many accosted you?" Jodon asks Mijira.  The halfling moves to search each cot and living area for personal effects, looking in particular for anything that might tie one of the locations to the men they have faced, or to the "R" in the letter.  "With space for ten here, we can expect that somebody should be coming back."

In response to Jodon's question Mijira responds, "I don't know. Five or seven. It's hard to tell when they're all beating on you like that. If I ever find them again though..." Her words trail off and her hand tightens into a fist. "These men are not doing anyone any favors and they should not be allowed to continue." Mijira helps Jodon search the room.

Inside a boot beside a cot Mijira spots coins in the bottom. The owner must be using the boot as a makeshift hiding place for his or her coin. Jodon finds a small bottle of something. Smelling the contents proves perilous. The contents smell like some sort of sulfurous chemical. It's thick and has an orange, rusty tinge. The room seems otherwise devoid of interest.

Holg puts the violin in his backpack and, after carving into mattress, follows Jodon and Mijira to the makeshift barracks room. "Aye, perhaps we may find some more information about this operation in here". Holg searches as well, specifically for any clothing or uniforms for whoever lived in the room.

"Still thirsty?" Jodon asks Mijira with a chuckle as he offers the bottle.  He quickly brings it back down in case the dragonborn took him seriously.  "This is a nasty concoction; we should compare it with what we saw in the laboratory rooms, or perhaps see if anybody can identify it for us.  Or, if anybody is more familiar with potions or chemicals than I, please feel free to take a look."

"You mean back down in the kitchens?" Dathyra asked. "I suppose there would be no harm in looking there, but I fear that whoever was supposed to be here may return soon. If it is some sort of poison or elixir, I may be able to identify it, but I can't be certain."

In the aspect of uniforms or the like, Holg comes up empty. If fact, Holg's background explicitly tells him that the inhabitants of this 'barracks' are unorganized and and lack the discipline required by militiary standards.

Dathyra examines the liquid and at first she is just as lost as to what this vial may hold as Jodon, but then a spark of memory catches her off guard. Dathyra uncorks the bottle and gently takes a whiff, after seeing Jodon's reaction. Dathyra remembers a roguish man of sorts that came under her care one evening. He had massive burns from some sort of lobbed explosive. He had luckily caught the first one, but the second had disfigured him - probably forever. Later the elf had come to know the liquid as alchemist's fire. 

Dathyra nodded to herself, quite sure of her observation. "Alchemist's fire," she said, "a dangerous explosive when exposed to air." She quickly sealed the cork once more. "I doubt this is what Kristoff's been dealing in since I don't see a reason to require so many...um, bodies to make it. I imagine one of his associates has been carrying this around, perhaps as some sort of defense, or even as leverage, should the need arise. Causes some incredibly severe burns."