"It's ok," he says to the tortle. If he were wrong, then perhaps... he reaches out to touch the green stone, and when he does his mind is assaulted with a psychic barrage. He stumbles backwards trying to focus as wave after wave smashes into his head. Calling upon Hild Auril he attempts to soothe the pain. It does little to help, as his goddess most likely felt the pain was punishment for his foolishness. 

(13 damage, 4 healing)

Rummble is the one to finally crack the puzzle, touching the red gem on the eighteenth pole. Fearing the worst, he hesitantly places his hand on the gem and nothing happens for a heartbeat. Suddenly, the pole shakes and begins to descend into the ground, taking with it the two on either side. There is now a doorway of sorts, and space for everyone to go through.

There is no distinct pathway that leads to the front door. In fact, the yard is overgrown with wild, unbridled growth. Weeds, grass, and vines climb higher in stature than some members of the party. It's only about fifteen feet to the front door of the castle, and the treasure that Aria promised inside

Rummble, after several paces around the fence work, felt something was off. Each color gem had growing gaps between the next, and the last red gem seemed to be off pattern. Still, if he were wrong, the kobold knew it would be lights out. It's a damn good t'ing that we got a healer! 

--

The place's yard has been completely disregarded. The wild growth had even gotten taller than Rummble, but wading through the thick weeds and foliage made him feel like some jungle predator. Hacking the more stubborn vegetation, he overheard the tortle make a comment towards the party's ward. "Tortle, don't y'mean 'not'n' ventured, not'n' gained'?" 

Broch'Tur continued to pace the perimeter as he pondered the riddle of the gems, frustrated that the puzzle continued to elude him.  The others did so as well, all with more caution than earlier - no one wishing to bear the brunt of another failed attempt. When Rummble was the one to solve the mystery, the hobgoblin shakes his head in disbelief, but has to give the creature credit - whether by logic or sheer luck, he'd figured it out, taking the risk to test his conclusion.

Joining the others as they cautiously move through the newly-formed gate, Broch eyes the kobold with a (slight) new-found measure of respect. "Well done, Rummble," he offers, even addressing it by name, "you've outsmarted us all. Impressive, I must admit, and an unexpected surprise." He mentally reaches out to Katar, calling the owl down and it swoops in to settle on his shoulder.  Looking to the edifice before them, the mage then moves into the overgrown yard, examining the building itself - any doors, windows and such, seeking signs of danger or watchers, a hand resting upon the hilt of the sword at his hip.

[Unintentionally back-handed racist comments for the win!]

The vines that cover the yard seem to cling to your legs, although with very little force you are able to break free and continue to slog along. Despite the fact that it is slow going, the yard is small and you soon arrive at the threshold. The door itself is incredibly ornate, although the paint is peeling. The door knocker looks to be a woman's head, her eyes closed blissfully as if she is sleeping. Words are chiseled into the stone of the entryway on either side of the door.

Finally, making up to the entrance of the seemingly abandoned manor, Rummble takes the time to read the scripture besides the doors. And an all-too-familiar sense of dread overcomes his mind. If scales could get goose-bumps, he'd surely have them now.

"This place.. is cursed.." Rummble said lowly. 

Kero sends a glance to Aria and shrugs. She hadn't been much help at the gate, so he wasn't sure how much help she'd be here. He had a feeling there was more to her story. Perhaps this was all a farce.

Nodding to the tortle, Kero reads the passages aloud. It didn't make sense to him even after re-reading it a few times in his head. It was a poem, or a ballad of some sort. Both of the bards in the group didn't seem to pay it much mind, so Kero reaches out and gives the knocker three sharp knocks. "Lets see if anyone's home," he says. 

Each knock echos with unearthly volume, resounding across the clearing. With each knock, everyone feels more uneasy. However, nothing happens after the third and final knock and silence eventually settles over the castle once more.

Kero's head was still pounding from the psychic assault the fence had on them and the knocking only made it worse. After the final knock he felt his blood begin pumping as his heart rapidly sped. He could feel each beat as if his heart were exposed in his chest. After a few heavy breaths he focused himself to ignore the feeling. It was unnatural, for sure. And he was sure it was caused by his knocking. 

"No one's home, it seems." He says between breaths. "Perhaps... check the area for more traps?" The suggestion was haphazard. He had no intention of trying to open the door. Someone else would have to suffer the next attack from this mysterious castle. 

Broch'Tur listens as Kero reads out the verses, reading them himself as the man does so. "More puzzles. This grows tiresome." Impatient with the apparent games, he brushes past and attempts to open the door, ignoring the knocker altogether.

Surprisingly, the door creaks open as Broch'tur turns the doorknob. The only resistance is the creaking of old hinges, rather than that of a lock. The ornate door opens up into a small foyer where a suit of armor stands guard. Dust and cobwebs litter what you can see of the castle, but you are at the very least inside.

What would you like to do?

Happy that they've finally made it into the damned castle, Rummble takes in the surroundings. Dusty. Ragged. Nothing popped out. Only a stagnant suit of armor occupied the current space. Rummble steps up to it, batting it with the hilt of his small sword. The expectant dull, resonant sound of empty metal chimed. Rummble rolled his reptilian eyes and moved onward to the next door, sheathing his blade once more.

"So..are we lookin' for sumtin'?"

Kero enters the huge building cautiously. This place has already proved it has the power to sap his strength, so he was weary to test his limits at this point. His head still pounded, and when Rummble batted the armor with the hilt of his sword, he felt his headache grow. "I believe we were looking for a place to rest, Wyrm," Kero responds. "Other than that, we are hired on the promise of gold, revenge, and adventure. We will see..." 

Broch stepped aside as his companions tried to push past in their eagerness to get inside the building. If they didn't care to take any precautions and just rush in, so be it. The place had already proven dangerous and there was a difference between brave and foolhardy. He followed after, more cautiously, eyes probing the shadows and scanning for danger. He thought the lone suit of armor odd, in light of the absence of any other heraldry or decor in the entry hall, but it remained harmless for now, so the mage ignored it.

He points out the pair of wall sconces flanking the door. "These are magical," he notes. "Hopefully they are found throughout the place and will continue to provide light as we explore further. Look at the floor - the dust makes it seem that the place has been undisturbed for ages. When was it you said that you were last here Aria?" Without waiting for an answer, he moves past the armor after Orilee and Rummble as they approach the next doorway down the hallway. "Let's see if we can find some answers, shall we?"

"Not long ago," Aria replies to Broch'tur. "As soon as I fled this place, I returned to the Plastered Dragon to look for adventurers to aid me... I was there for, I don't know, a little more than two months? Not more than that."

There are two doors along the long hallway, which is lit with more magical sconces. The dust and decay continues into this part of the household, causing some to cough as they kick up debris. Both doors are ornately carved wood with gilded edges. If you look past the wear and tear of time, this was probably once a beautiful and opulent home.

Orilee opens the first door, finding that they are in a rather large sitting room. There appear to be three couches, but they are covered in hole ridden white sheets. There is a roaring fireplace along the left wall, with bookshelves on either side of it. A staircase in the back left corner of the room appears to lead upstairs, and there are two more doors on the righthand side of the room.

Broch'Tur merely grunts at Aria's response. Something doesn't add up. He peers into the sitting room past the bulky form of the tortle. Dust, sheet-covered furniture... and a roaring fire? More magic at play, and more mystery. Waiting for those before him to move into the room, Broch reaches up to stroke the head of the owl still sitting patiently on his shoulder, then dismisses it with a thought. Too tight in here for Katar to have room to fly freely.  He notes the closed doors, and looks into the gloom of the stairway for signs of danger, but his interest is drawn to the bookshelves by the fireplace. Once (if) Orilee enters the room, the hobgoblin follows and goes to examine the selection of books.