With so many light sources in the room, the statue seemed to have shadows dancing behind it. He expected to see the large birds wings and majestic antlers against the faded background of the mansions peeling wallpaper; his breath caught in his throat when he saw the shadow of a humanoid instead. Taking a half step back he instinctively raises his arm and makes a warding sign as he chants softly. ***blade ward: -d4 attacks concentration 1 min***
Gooterat quickly stood up tall(ish) and adjusted his vest. Brushing away a bit of lint that only he could see, he said, "My word, that is most unsettling. You would expect a statue to throw a statue like shadow. I'm certain you all agree. A bright lot to be sure, knew it right away. But what kind of greeting is this?!? Most unsettling, most unsettling indeed."
Gooterat's pace of speech was extremely rapid, He took no obvious breaths, yet the words kept flying out. The anxious little gnomes eyes darted from the eerie shadows behind the statue and the top of the stairs. His mage hand hovered near the statue but did not move.
"I suppose we should see what other lovely greetings await us in this," his nose wrinkled up as if the next word tasted bitter, "place. One way is as good, or bad, as the rest to me. I can use my mage hand to open doors if you all like, can't be too careful." He offered up his best 'I'm not crapping my pants right now' smile, hoping that he looked less terrified than he felt.
Shinrei listens to the twins’ tale, his expression shifting as the tale unfolds, curiosity giving way to something colder, more analytical. He nods once, solemnly. “A warlord over a stolen keep. A daughter bent in vengeance. And a house standing atop their bones like a tomb. If Mara Silvra never left… perhaps she’s not trapped. Perhaps she’s waiting.”
He turns slightly to the group, tone dry but thoughtful. “On the bright side… if we die horribly, at least we’ll have context.”
Shinrei steps toward the eastern door at the foot of the staircase. "In furtherance of fatal curiosity, I propose that we stay together and investigate the house one room, and one floor at a time, starting with the ground. Shall we see what waits behind this door? Mr. Rats?"
Ghosts…he swallows hard, feeling a pang of sorrow tighten in his chest. Spirits bound to rage and grief—he knows enough to understand they don’t linger without reason, and they don’t always want to be saved. Still, as a paladin, it’s his duty to try.
He steps quietly to Shinrei’s side, the soft clink of chain under his travel-worn clothes faint in the hush of the house. “A-agreed,” Cassian says, his voice steady despite the stammer. “Best we don’t get separated.” He glances toward Laurie and Gennifer, then to the others, resolve flickering behind his brown and pale eyes. “Let’s see if we can help them find peace...W-without becoming one of them."
In the foyer, Alaric lingered near the base of the peryton statue as the others explored the eastern room. His eyes briefly flared with an arcane light as the ritual spell settled into place. A faint shimmer of illusory magic clung to the sculpture like a veil.
It wasn’t strong — or particularly dangerous — but something about its presence felt intentional. A quiet deception woven into the house itself.
---
The eastern door creaked open on rusted hinges as the others passed through. Dust clung to every surface of what had once been a stately sitting room. Mold crept up faded wallpaper, and the scent of dry rot and time hung thick in the air.
A trio of deer heads had been mounted on the walls, glass eyes staring blankly at the room’s newest visitors.
A long-cold fireplace sat beneath a stone mantle, above which hung a large oil painting in a heavy frame. A small brass plaque bore the painting's title, Lake Zarovich.
It depicted a large lake with a bleak, mist-wreathed shoreline. Pines towered over the water on the far side of the shore and their reflections were caught in the still surface of the lake.
Within the painting, far on the opposite shore, Rats and Zepharion noticed a small grey figure. (passive perception, success)
Due to the relative size of the figure within the painting — barely more than a brushstroke or two — the small figure on the far shore was quite featureless.
Knowing Shinrei is here to help with the more esoteric questions he cannot answer, Rats moves into the eastern room and examines the deer heads and painting.
Looking up at the deer, Rats tries to recall all he can about that species of deer. Are they native to environments such as this? Does this species actually exist? [Nature 2 (Nat 1 roll. yikes)]
(With the painting, does the small figure appear to be added after the original had been finished? And does the landscape match our current location?)
Gooterat finds a way to wiggle his small frame into the center of the group as they move into the sitting room. He allows his mage hand to dispel on its own time frame, but holds concentration to maintain his meager defenses.
His eyes scan the room, noting the deer mounts on the wall and large painting, but focusing more towards the fireplace. He moves cautiously towards it, glancing nervously at the door to the north, then back to the hearth. He takes a moment to poke around, looking for any loose stones or possible hidden levers before falling quietly back into the safety of the party.
***OoC: perception: 22 - natty 20***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Rats paced the perimeter of the sitting room, pausing briefly to examine the mounted deer heads. Their glassy eyes and dust-covered antlers offered nothing in the way of mystery. The trio were unremarkable trophies of regular deer. [nature, failure ... but sometimes a deer head is just a deer head. :)]
Near the fireplace, Gooterat peered up at the painting above the mantle. Mist still curled across the lake's surface, and the dark pines reached like fingers into the water — but something had changed! [perception, success] Where before there had been only a distant, grey blur on the far shore, Gooterat now saw the same figure Rats and Zepharion had noticed.
A slender boat drifted on the water now, near the far shore of the still lake. Seated within was the same grey figure, more distinct now: hooded and holding a tiny lantern that burned with an almost imperceptible blue flame. It cast rippling light across the painted lake’s surface as though it were real.
Just then, a whisper from behind the heroes! It sounded as though someone stood within the room with them. Turning around, however, there was no one to be seen. The voice had been male, the voice low and tremulous. The whisper itself, barely audible.
"Do not linger here ..." The voice had cautioned. "This painting watches back."
The air within the room, meanwhile, had turned suddenly colder.
Rolled an Intelligence (investigation) skill check to inform the answer to Rat's other questions (a second nat 1, yikes!) Rats couldn't say whether or not the painting had been altered ... such things were beyond the desert ranger's expertise. The flora of the landscape did appear to be somewhat close, geographically speaking, to where the manor house was located. A bit more mountainous, perhaps.
Gooterat nearly jumped right out of his boots at the whispered voice behind the party. After glancing back over his shoulder fifteen or so times, he pointed a quivering finger at the painting. "Please tell me that you see that too!" He rubbed his eyes, shook his head like a wet dog, paused to correct his disheveled hair, and glanced back at the painting to see if the boat had moved towards them.
Turning to Alaric he asked, "Is the painting magical? And who, what, and what the hells just said that?"
He tries to get a sense of the whisperer, honest warning or deceitful gibberish.
***OoC: insight? 23***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Alaric joins the others. "There is definitely illusion magic around the statue so that explains the shadow. It brings me some comfort that it is likely not just in stasis and therefore not going to be a potential threat down the line. As for this painting." and Alaric takes a quick glance to see if it is magical, and also trying to quickly tell if the figure might be the same figure from the crossroads where they all met (as well as if that figure is moving within the painting or if the image is still).
He doesn't look too long due to the unknown warning, which until further evidence to the contrary, he will assume is someone helpful.
Gooterat listened closely, brow furrowed. The spectral voice had been tremulous and low, not from menace, but fear, as if it whispered not to startle the heroes ... but to avoid being overheard by something else. [insight, success]
Alaric now viewed the painting, finding that it pulsed with intense conjuration magic. The boat on the canvas had drawn even closer now, its bow cutting through the mist-choked waters. The grey-cloaked figure sat at the stern, one hand resting on the oar, the other cradling its eerie blue lantern.
The picture is not animated. That is, each time it has been described, that is just what the painting looks like. This grey-cloaked figure and the black-winged figure from the crossroads are different from one another visually.
"This picture has strong conjuration magic. And I swear every time I look at it, that figure is closer to us. I feel the need to move on quickly before that figure comes to the front and conjures himself into existence... if that is even possible with conjuration magic. Who knows the rules of this strange place through the mists."
Alaric will distance himself from the picture. Half tempted to try and stab it with his sword, which is being kept constantly materialised currently, but too afraid of potential repercussions from the magic in the image.
Shinrei stands motionless as the chill tightens around the room. He watches the painting not with the eyes of a man seeing art, but with the scrutiny of a man who knows when something is no longer pretending to be what it is. He steps closer to the painting, careful not to cast his shadow upon the canvas. “That flame... that’s a ferryman’s light. Old stories say it burns low because it’s not for seeing. It’s for finding. For guiding something across that shouldn’t know the way.”He turns slightly, addressing Gooterat and Alaric. "If the boat draws nearer every time we look… it may not be arriving in the painting. It may be arriving here. I recommend we not linger. The house has many eyes, but this one blinks slowly… and we’ve just caught its attention mid-dream.”
With a last glance toward the whisper-haunted air and the painting’s growing detail, Shinrei steps back slowly, respectfully, to the fireplace. “Let’s not be here when it finishes waking.” Shinrei pokes his staff around the interior of the fireplace.
Gooterat doesn't need to be warned further. He begins to creep towards the north door, his gaze darting here and there, but not lingering on the painting.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Paintings do not dream! Paintings do not watch! We are safe. Deer are deer and deer are dead. Tricks and riddles to bamboozle. Let us press forward. I desire to plumb all the secrets I can or go home. Whichever comes first."
Not knowing what all the fuss is about as Rats clearly does not understand anything about this room, he moves with Gootrat towards the north door and listens for anything on the other side [Perception 17]
Gooterat stops a few paces from the door, giving Rats a moment to check things out. In the few heartbeats this takes, his mind races with a list of horrors that may lie behind the door. Perhaps a horde of skeletons, maybe a wailing banshee that could slay the lot of them before they could cover their ears, it could be a swarm of rats. A shudder ran through his body. Rats. The one called Rats seemed like a fine enough fellow, but his namesake was another story all together. He could see their beedy little eyes, the faint scratching sounds their claws made on the filthy alley cobblestone, their long hairless tails... Another shudder ran down his spine.
"Can't be too careful," he muttered softly to himself. He focused on the fear and sick feeling that the very thought of rats gave him. He mentally twisted those raw emotions into anger. In anger dwelled his offensive power. He envisioned the snapping, jagged teeth of a rabid dire rat. His focused raw emotion manifested in crackling lightening energy dancing between his fingers. If trouble waited to greet them he would be the first to say hello.
***OoC: ready action sorcerous burst. If something scary is waiting for them he will let it fly***
As the group took stock of their surroundings, Gennifer and Laurie exchanged a glance. The twins quietly excused themselves, with Cassian and Zepharion following close behind. The four of them choosing to investigate the northern door off the foyer. There, they found a modest parlor — dusty but intact — and agreed to use the space as a temporary base camp, leaving the others to press on.
In the sitting room, Shinrei glanced at the painting of Lake Zarovich, eyes narrowing as he searched the room for clues. The figure in the rowboat had now reached the near shore. The figure had turned its head slightly, staring straight out of the painting — just enough to suggest awareness. With this new glance, detail emerged: the figure wore the intricate robes and sigils of a wizard. The grey-robed wizard within the painting was quite bald, human and had a piercing gaze along with a small, neatly trimmed beard.
Shinrei searched elsewhere in the room for anything unusual but found only dust and decay. [investigation, failure]
Meanwhile, Rats and Gooterat approached the northern door. Rats pressed an ear against the wood while Gooterat held a spell at the ready, fingers twitching with arcane anticipation. Hearing nothing, they eased the door open, revealing a hallway beyond. [perception, success]
The hall stretched into shadow, its floor covered by a threadbare rug of dizzying geometric pattern. Broken picture frames hung askew on the walls, their contents long removed or rotted away. Five doors, each closed, lined the passage — silent and waiting.
Gooterat peers down the empty hall as the unspent energy dissipated. "Oh. Great. More pictures," he grumbles. His weight shifted nervously from foot to foot. Never one to rush into dark, scary hallways in obviously haunted houses, he held up by the door.
"Hmmmm. Well then, let's at least get a better look before we go in. Can't be to careful, you know." He steps back and reaches towards Rat's torch. Chanting softly, he stops and smiles when a spectral hand forms, fingers open near the torch. "May I?" he asks.
If Rats hesitates he adds, "I'll give it back, promise."
***OoC: his intent is to send the torch down the hall, but can't move it during the casting round. Mage hand 1 min***
"Ghost hand in ghost house. Very clever to make them think it is theirs. Yes yes you may take my torch. It is real fire though. Careful to not burn down the mansion...unless that is your wish."
Rats will relinquish the torch to Gooterat then look back at the remainder of the group in the sitting room, "Hey! Let the boat man be and ponder these new paintings."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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With so many light sources in the room, the statue seemed to have shadows dancing behind it. He expected to see the large birds wings and majestic antlers against the faded background of the mansions peeling wallpaper; his breath caught in his throat when he saw the shadow of a humanoid instead. Taking a half step back he instinctively raises his arm and makes a warding sign as he chants softly. ***blade ward: -d4 attacks concentration 1 min***
Gooterat quickly stood up tall(ish) and adjusted his vest. Brushing away a bit of lint that only he could see, he said, "My word, that is most unsettling. You would expect a statue to throw a statue like shadow. I'm certain you all agree. A bright lot to be sure, knew it right away. But what kind of greeting is this?!? Most unsettling, most unsettling indeed."
Gooterat's pace of speech was extremely rapid, He took no obvious breaths, yet the words kept flying out. The anxious little gnomes eyes darted from the eerie shadows behind the statue and the top of the stairs. His mage hand hovered near the statue but did not move.
"I suppose we should see what other lovely greetings await us in this," his nose wrinkled up as if the next word tasted bitter, "place. One way is as good, or bad, as the rest to me. I can use my mage hand to open doors if you all like, can't be too careful." He offered up his best 'I'm not crapping my pants right now' smile, hoping that he looked less terrified than he felt.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Shinrei listens to the twins’ tale, his expression shifting as the tale unfolds, curiosity giving way to something colder, more analytical. He nods once, solemnly. “A warlord over a stolen keep. A daughter bent in vengeance. And a house standing atop their bones like a tomb. If Mara Silvra never left… perhaps she’s not trapped. Perhaps she’s waiting.”
He turns slightly to the group, tone dry but thoughtful. “On the bright side… if we die horribly, at least we’ll have context.”
Shinrei steps toward the eastern door at the foot of the staircase. "In furtherance of fatal curiosity, I propose that we stay together and investigate the house one room, and one floor at a time, starting with the ground. Shall we see what waits behind this door? Mr. Rats?"
Ghosts…he swallows hard, feeling a pang of sorrow tighten in his chest. Spirits bound to rage and grief—he knows enough to understand they don’t linger without reason, and they don’t always want to be saved. Still, as a paladin, it’s his duty to try.
He steps quietly to Shinrei’s side, the soft clink of chain under his travel-worn clothes faint in the hush of the house. “A-agreed,” Cassian says, his voice steady despite the stammer. “Best we don’t get separated.” He glances toward Laurie and Gennifer, then to the others, resolve flickering behind his brown and pale eyes. “Let’s see if we can help them find peace...W-without becoming one of them."
In the foyer, Alaric lingered near the base of the peryton statue as the others explored the eastern room. His eyes briefly flared with an arcane light as the ritual spell settled into place. A faint shimmer of illusory magic clung to the sculpture like a veil.
It wasn’t strong — or particularly dangerous — but something about its presence felt intentional. A quiet deception woven into the house itself.
---
The eastern door creaked open on rusted hinges as the others passed through. Dust clung to every surface of what had once been a stately sitting room. Mold crept up faded wallpaper, and the scent of dry rot and time hung thick in the air.
A trio of deer heads had been mounted on the walls, glass eyes staring blankly at the room’s newest visitors.
A long-cold fireplace sat beneath a stone mantle, above which hung a large oil painting in a heavy frame. A small brass plaque bore the painting's title, Lake Zarovich.
It depicted a large lake with a bleak, mist-wreathed shoreline. Pines towered over the water on the far side of the shore and their reflections were caught in the still surface of the lake.
Within the painting, far on the opposite shore, Rats and Zepharion noticed a small grey figure. (passive perception, success)
Due to the relative size of the figure within the painting — barely more than a brushstroke or two — the small figure on the far shore was quite featureless.
Light sources — Cassian (lamp), Gennifer (candle), Rats (torch), Shinrei (light)
Active spells — Alaric (Detect Magic); Gooterat (mage hand), (blade ward); Shinrei (light)
There are three doors in the sitting room. West (leading back to the foyer), East and North.
Knowing Shinrei is here to help with the more esoteric questions he cannot answer, Rats moves into the eastern room and examines the deer heads and painting.
Looking up at the deer, Rats tries to recall all he can about that species of deer. Are they native to environments such as this? Does this species actually exist? [Nature 2 (Nat 1 roll. yikes)]
(With the painting, does the small figure appear to be added after the original had been finished? And does the landscape match our current location?)
Gooterat finds a way to wiggle his small frame into the center of the group as they move into the sitting room. He allows his mage hand to dispel on its own time frame, but holds concentration to maintain his meager defenses.
His eyes scan the room, noting the deer mounts on the wall and large painting, but focusing more towards the fireplace. He moves cautiously towards it, glancing nervously at the door to the north, then back to the hearth. He takes a moment to poke around, looking for any loose stones or possible hidden levers before falling quietly back into the safety of the party.
***OoC: perception: 22 - natty 20***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Rats paced the perimeter of the sitting room, pausing briefly to examine the mounted deer heads. Their glassy eyes and dust-covered antlers offered nothing in the way of mystery. The trio were unremarkable trophies of regular deer. [nature, failure ... but sometimes a deer head is just a deer head. :)]
Near the fireplace, Gooterat peered up at the painting above the mantle. Mist still curled across the lake's surface, and the dark pines reached like fingers into the water — but something had changed! [perception, success] Where before there had been only a distant, grey blur on the far shore, Gooterat now saw the same figure Rats and Zepharion had noticed.
A slender boat drifted on the water now, near the far shore of the still lake. Seated within was the same grey figure, more distinct now: hooded and holding a tiny lantern that burned with an almost imperceptible blue flame. It cast rippling light across the painted lake’s surface as though it were real.
Just then, a whisper from behind the heroes! It sounded as though someone stood within the room with them. Turning around, however, there was no one to be seen. The voice had been male, the voice low and tremulous. The whisper itself, barely audible.
"Do not linger here ..." The voice had cautioned. "This painting watches back."
The air within the room, meanwhile, had turned suddenly colder.
Rolled an Intelligence (investigation) skill check to inform the answer to Rat's other questions (a second nat 1, yikes!) Rats couldn't say whether or not the painting had been altered ... such things were beyond the desert ranger's expertise. The flora of the landscape did appear to be somewhat close, geographically speaking, to where the manor house was located. A bit more mountainous, perhaps.
Gooterat nearly jumped right out of his boots at the whispered voice behind the party. After glancing back over his shoulder fifteen or so times, he pointed a quivering finger at the painting. "Please tell me that you see that too!" He rubbed his eyes, shook his head like a wet dog, paused to correct his disheveled hair, and glanced back at the painting to see if the boat had moved towards them.
Turning to Alaric he asked, "Is the painting magical? And who, what, and what the hells just said that?"
He tries to get a sense of the whisperer, honest warning or deceitful gibberish.
***OoC: insight? 23***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Alaric joins the others. "There is definitely illusion magic around the statue so that explains the shadow. It brings me some comfort that it is likely not just in stasis and therefore not going to be a potential threat down the line. As for this painting." and Alaric takes a quick glance to see if it is magical, and also trying to quickly tell if the figure might be the same figure from the crossroads where they all met (as well as if that figure is moving within the painting or if the image is still).
He doesn't look too long due to the unknown warning, which until further evidence to the contrary, he will assume is someone helpful.
After joining more my signature got out of hand so I am now a proud member of the extended signature club!! :)
Gooterat listened closely, brow furrowed. The spectral voice had been tremulous and low, not from menace, but fear, as if it whispered not to startle the heroes ... but to avoid being overheard by something else. [insight, success]
Alaric now viewed the painting, finding that it pulsed with intense conjuration magic. The boat on the canvas had drawn even closer now, its bow cutting through the mist-choked waters. The grey-cloaked figure sat at the stern, one hand resting on the oar, the other cradling its eerie blue lantern.
The picture is not animated. That is, each time it has been described, that is just what the painting looks like. This grey-cloaked figure and the black-winged figure from the crossroads are different from one another visually.
"This picture has strong conjuration magic. And I swear every time I look at it, that figure is closer to us. I feel the need to move on quickly before that figure comes to the front and conjures himself into existence... if that is even possible with conjuration magic. Who knows the rules of this strange place through the mists."
Alaric will distance himself from the picture. Half tempted to try and stab it with his sword, which is being kept constantly materialised currently, but too afraid of potential repercussions from the magic in the image.
After joining more my signature got out of hand so I am now a proud member of the extended signature club!! :)
Shinrei stands motionless as the chill tightens around the room. He watches the painting not with the eyes of a man seeing art, but with the scrutiny of a man who knows when something is no longer pretending to be what it is. He steps closer to the painting, careful not to cast his shadow upon the canvas. “That flame... that’s a ferryman’s light. Old stories say it burns low because it’s not for seeing. It’s for finding. For guiding something across that shouldn’t know the way.” He turns slightly, addressing Gooterat and Alaric. "If the boat draws nearer every time we look… it may not be arriving in the painting. It may be arriving here. I recommend we not linger. The house has many eyes, but this one blinks slowly… and we’ve just caught its attention mid-dream.”
With a last glance toward the whisper-haunted air and the painting’s growing detail, Shinrei steps back slowly, respectfully, to the fireplace. “Let’s not be here when it finishes waking.” Shinrei pokes his staff around the interior of the fireplace.
(Action: Investigation: 6)
Gooterat doesn't need to be warned further. He begins to creep towards the north door, his gaze darting here and there, but not lingering on the painting.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Paintings do not dream! Paintings do not watch! We are safe. Deer are deer and deer are dead. Tricks and riddles to bamboozle. Let us press forward. I desire to plumb all the secrets I can or go home. Whichever comes first."
Not knowing what all the fuss is about as Rats clearly does not understand anything about this room, he moves with Gootrat towards the north door and listens for anything on the other side [Perception 17]
Gooterat stops a few paces from the door, giving Rats a moment to check things out. In the few heartbeats this takes, his mind races with a list of horrors that may lie behind the door. Perhaps a horde of skeletons, maybe a wailing banshee that could slay the lot of them before they could cover their ears, it could be a swarm of rats. A shudder ran through his body. Rats. The one called Rats seemed like a fine enough fellow, but his namesake was another story all together. He could see their beedy little eyes, the faint scratching sounds their claws made on the filthy alley cobblestone, their long hairless tails... Another shudder ran down his spine.
"Can't be too careful," he muttered softly to himself. He focused on the fear and sick feeling that the very thought of rats gave him. He mentally twisted those raw emotions into anger. In anger dwelled his offensive power. He envisioned the snapping, jagged teeth of a rabid dire rat. His focused raw emotion manifested in crackling lightening energy dancing between his fingers. If trouble waited to greet them he would be the first to say hello.
***OoC: ready action sorcerous burst. If something scary is waiting for them he will let it fly***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
As the group took stock of their surroundings, Gennifer and Laurie exchanged a glance. The twins quietly excused themselves, with Cassian and Zepharion following close behind. The four of them choosing to investigate the northern door off the foyer. There, they found a modest parlor — dusty but intact — and agreed to use the space as a temporary base camp, leaving the others to press on.
In the sitting room, Shinrei glanced at the painting of Lake Zarovich, eyes narrowing as he searched the room for clues. The figure in the rowboat had now reached the near shore. The figure had turned its head slightly, staring straight out of the painting — just enough to suggest awareness. With this new glance, detail emerged: the figure wore the intricate robes and sigils of a wizard. The grey-robed wizard within the painting was quite bald, human and had a piercing gaze along with a small, neatly trimmed beard.
Shinrei searched elsewhere in the room for anything unusual but found only dust and decay. [investigation, failure]
Meanwhile, Rats and Gooterat approached the northern door. Rats pressed an ear against the wood while Gooterat held a spell at the ready, fingers twitching with arcane anticipation. Hearing nothing, they eased the door open, revealing a hallway beyond. [perception, success]
The hall stretched into shadow, its floor covered by a threadbare rug of dizzying geometric pattern. Broken picture frames hung askew on the walls, their contents long removed or rotted away. Five doors, each closed, lined the passage — silent and waiting.
Nothing radiates as magic in the hallway.
Light sources — Rats (torch), Shinrei (Light)
Active spells — Alaric (Detect Magic); Gooterat (Sorcerous Burst, readied*); Shinrei (Light)
*Readying a spell requires concentration. As a result, Gooterat's Blade Ward had to be dropped.
Gooterat peers down the empty hall as the unspent energy dissipated. "Oh. Great. More pictures," he grumbles. His weight shifted nervously from foot to foot. Never one to rush into dark, scary hallways in obviously haunted houses, he held up by the door.
"Hmmmm. Well then, let's at least get a better look before we go in. Can't be to careful, you know." He steps back and reaches towards Rat's torch. Chanting softly, he stops and smiles when a spectral hand forms, fingers open near the torch. "May I?" he asks.
If Rats hesitates he adds, "I'll give it back, promise."
***OoC: his intent is to send the torch down the hall, but can't move it during the casting round. Mage hand 1 min***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Ghost hand in ghost house. Very clever to make them think it is theirs. Yes yes you may take my torch. It is real fire though. Careful to not burn down the mansion...unless that is your wish."
Rats will relinquish the torch to Gooterat then look back at the remainder of the group in the sitting room, "Hey! Let the boat man be and ponder these new paintings."