For those inside the fence, House Crain towers above you, its four turreted corners and central towers jutting above you like rotten teeth, old and crooked.

A short set of wooden stairs leads to a landing that wraps around the house. At the top of the stairs, a large double-door of weathered cherrywood banded in rusty iron presumably leads into the manor. The windows are boarded and broken. The frame of the structure itself sags.

The house, as a whole, appears unstable and unsafe.

Stone was no stranger to dangers, but something seemed....off about this place. At the approach, he found he recited mantras subconsciously more and more. Once they reached the gate, the air pulsed with wrong. As the others proceeded through the gate, Stone began to wonder. Was this the right choice? Should they have waited to see what was under that temple? Would they all be killed and this endeavour for naught?

At Marius' inquiry, Stone snapped from his revere, "Yes. Yes, of course." Darkness and Death are only the tools of this Evil, he recited in the last steps. As he crossed the threshold, something snapped in his mind. Mid-mantra, his mind flooded with a woman's screams, echoed dozens of times over and punctuated by the sound of broken glass. The monk caught himself on the fence and stood for a moment like he was struck in the head. When he looked at the others, his cold, emotionless demeanor had returned and he drove forward to the porch.

Marius keeps his eyes up on the house until the monk has made his graceful way through the gap in the holey rusted metal of the fence. Then in a guttural hiss, the warlock mutters, "Ort Por Ylem," and snaps his arm forward. A translucent hand, with unpleasantly long-looking fingers that seem to squirm more than fingers should, extends out from Marius' own natural hand. It floats forward, smoke on an unsensed breeze, and wraps its spectral fingers around a bar of the fence as Marius makes a fist. He moves his arm to the right, the hand pulls the gap in the fence a little wider. The old metal makes a tiny squeal and rust flecks chip off and sprinkle to the ground. He steps through with only a little bending and opens his fist to release the fence. It creaks back into place, and he continues forward to stand near the others.

"Ugh - those steps don't look fun at all, do they?"

Orel keeps his maul handy as the group begins their investigation. Looking at the structural integrity, he's not sure how long this house will hold up. "It might be a good idea to do a walkaround of the house and estate first," he suggests, "If there are any collapsed areas of the house, it'll be good to know before we enter." 

The kid had some fancy powers. He made sure to make a mental note of that in case he ever turned against the group. What were the words he said? Eh... ultimately it didn't matter, but it was no language he was familiar with. 

And their normally stoic tattoo'd friend seemed to have lost himself for awhile... this is a strange group of people. 

Elaine began to wander around the house, with Orel and Marius in tow. She inspected each window carefully, doing her best to peak inside. The boards were rotten, and falling apart. The bard thought that perhaps they would make a better entryway, as she was almost certain the front door had some sort of traps attached to it. After all, it was what she would have done. It was hard to glean any details about the inside of the house, but she could see the dim outlines of furniture covered in decrepit tarps.

"This was a beautiful house once," she murmured, turning back to Orel and Marius. "I think it may be best to go in through the window, but I leave that decision up to our Thief. I'm sure Reycaryn is more knowledgeable on breaking into fine houses."

Walking the perimeter with Marius and Elaine, Orel closes his eyes and whispers a few words under his breath, his fingers moving rapidly as they draw out small arcane symbols. When he opens his eyes, the normal bright green of his eyes has paled to a milky green in color.

He points both above and below the house, saying, "There's risen dead above and below the ground floor." He then gestures as if including the house itself, "The house is tainted by evil as well. Almost as if it were a living thing. We're wise to be cautious entering it." Finally his eyes rest on the back of Elaine as she peers into a window, but he says nothing.

"If there's anything on the ground floor, I don't sense it. There could be creatures still stirring in the house aside from what I can see. Beasts are exempt from my sight." He continues around the house as he says this, pointing at the various points where he knows there's something there. "If there is no basement, it could be buried dead under the floorboards. Be weary where you step," he finishes. 

As the group makes their way back to the front door, Orel relays what they found, "A lot of windows are already broken and boarded, barely. No observable collapses, but I have seen signs of living dead both above and below the main level. No back door. And I guess the house has some kind of ward on it?" He lets the others explain. He tried to keep up with what the bard and mysterious kid were talking about, but he lost track when they started pointing out the different patterns and such. 

"The glyphs of warding that are integrated into this house are meant to keep things in, rather than out," Elaine supported Orel. "There are a few windows that would make excellent entry points. I couldn't see too well inside, so I am not entirely sure what we may meet when we go in."

She glanced over at Orel, her nerves causing her to twist her ring. He had been able to see all of the undead in the building through some sort of magical means. She wondered, what had he seen when he had looked at her? 

Marius remains silent, pondering the possibilities surrounding a demonic residence full of undead. That idea just screams PORTAL TO THE ABYSS in his mind... but what does he know?

He nods in the affirmative as Elaine describes the nature of the sigils of defense they'd found. But he's oblivious to her nervousness - too wrapped up with his own haunts. He does kneel down and tug a length of rope out of his pack.

"Would this help us get through one of the windows?"

"No need," Stone grunts as he strides forward and hops onto the wrap-around patio. Approaching the nearest door, he curls his fingers into a Leopard Fist (half-fist, striking with first knuckles) and places his knuckles against the largest glass area of the nearst window. Slowly, methodically, he applies pressure until the window cracks, then gives way and simply crumbles. Drawing his dagger, the monk gently removes remaining glass shards with the pommel then turns to the party, "Coming?" His question is rhetorical as he does not wait for response before leaping in.

(Acrobatics Check: 20, Perception check: 11, Stealth Check: 18)

"Does he think we all can just jump up an entire flight of stairs like that?" the warlock grouses to himself. 

"I guess so..." he continues after Stone vanishes into the darkness all alone.

Orel followed Stone up through his window. He didn't care to implement stealth like the monk had, so he scrambles up the wall and deck leaving a trail of debris behind him. Eventually he's through, looking into the darkness of the house with the monk.

(Athletics 18)

Elaine smiled to herself before following the rest of the party up and through the window. She was about to do something unnecessarily show-offish when she noticed Marius struggle behind her. Instead, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up with her. The bard still managed to stick her landing with a toss of her perfect black curls and a dash of panache. 

(Nat 20 on the acrobatics check)

The room is thick with shadow, but as your eyes adjust, you see the remains of a masculine sitting room complete with rotting animal heads hung on the walls and strewn about the floor. To your right, a long row of collapsing bookshelves and what looks to be a large desk under a crumbling cloth tarp. To your left, several chairs, most of them in pieces, and a lounge table, all covered in ratty cloth. The centerpiece of the room lies directly in front of you - a stone hearth with a mantle carved in a macabre scene of skulls and human bone. Above that mantle, the peeling and faded picture of a man in fine silks, though his face has been completely blotted out.

Two cherrywood doors lead from the one, one likely into the central portion of the house and the other to a closet or privvy.

The house is dead silent. The smell of dust and age, and a pervasive buzz of mournful energy, make the air seem thicker than is natural. You occasionally feel a draft of icy wind, making your hair stand on end.

As the group moves about the room, inspecting the hearth and the painting hanging above it, the desk and its three locked drawers, and other sundry, Stone moves to the smaller of the two doors - the one likely leading to a closet or privvy. As he opens the door, something comes tumbling out, and he scampers to avoid it.

Once the stress of the moment passes, he looks down to see bits and pieces of a human skeleton and a tattered silk dress from whence the bones have tumbled. On the inside of the door, a fraying rope attached to a brass hook, its end tied into a crude noose.

Otherwise, the contents of the closet are uninteresting - once fine clothing, mostly men's jackets of various types and styles, now moth-eated and decayed beyond any semblance of value.

Orel walks over to the hearth and kicks around the remains of centuries-old ash. Softly he says, "Be careful in your inspections." As he says this he focuses his attention on the mantle and hearth. It's an odd choice for decoration as the centerpiece in a room. The skulls and bones could house anything, but the ash seemed out of place.

He sees a glint of light in the hearth, reflecting light from the open window, and picks it up for closer examination. It's what remains of a brass locket, the story it can tell haunting Orel's thoughts. "Hmmm... a little girl's locket, it looks like. Nothing remains of the painting inside..." He breaks the silence of the group as he says this.

It's at this time that Stone causes a ruckus and Orel's gaze is fixed on the elf's discovery in the closet. 

Marius smiles in surprise and bows to the half-elven bard. "My thanks - I appreciate it." He gazes around the room and sets his eyes on the desk lurking under a tarp. He closes his eyes, holds his breath, and briskly snaps off the covering. Once the cloud of dust subsides, he sees a well-preserved gilded cherrywood desk. Not as well-preserved as the gate outside, but the tarp did its job and protected the piece of furniture from the years of dust and critters and moisture settling. It contains three drawers, each with its own small gilt brass lock.

"Rey, I think I found something for you to practice on..." the warlock grins and steps back, making room for the rogue to work while he listens and watches for danger from other rooms.

After a moment, his youthful curiosity gets the better of him and he goes poking around through the bookshelves. BOOM-CRASH-FOOMPF goes a bookshelf, collapsing at his first touch and sending books crashing to the floor and papers flying in the icy breeze.

"Alright alright, I get the idea..." he says, returning to guard duty near the door to the rest of the house.

A sharp inhale is masked by the clatter of the skeleton in the closet as Stone sidesteps the raucous scene. After a cursory scan of the closet, he proceeds across the room and begins to listen gingerly at the other door for any sign of movement. After this much noise thus far, it wouldn't be surprising to find one of the undead Orel mentioned.