Party 9

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Bronria pauses, her hand hovering at the door handle. "I had planned to discern a layout for this floor before we -- never mind." Trying to keep her irritation in check, she takes a breath and steps away from the door. "Fine. Let us comprehensively search this room, then move on to the next. Be quick." She heads for the cloakroom first, intending to work her way out from there.

After a brisk search, she finds nothing in the cloakroom or the wider hall worthy of note, and tells the others as much. "If this room hides something it is beyond my means to find it, though I am happy to be proved wrong if you any of you wishes to keep searching." Perhaps there are secret panels in the fireplace or the walls that she missed while she was knocking on them. Perhaps she's just allowing herself to be made paranoid. At least it was worthwhile to learn that there was another door to be searched on this floor. Resolved now, she heads back to the same door across from the one they originally entered through. "Are we ready?" she asks without turning around.
 
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Abalister follows along, equally as unamused at the gnome's antics as the warrior. His grip on his staff tightening and loosening with every new sight. He remains silent for the moment, mentally noting room sizes and placements, drawing at a desk in his mind palace in an attempt to keep up with the house's layout.
 
Opening the door, you see a large, elegant dining room. The centerpiece of this wood-paneled dining room is a carved mahogany table surrounded by eight high-backed chairs with sculpted armrests and cushioned seats. A crystal chandelier hangs above the table, which is covered with resplendent silverware and crystalware polished to a dazzling shine. Mounted above the marble fireplace is a mahogany-framed painting of an alpine vale. The wall paneling is carved with elegant images of deer among the trees. Red silk drapes cover the windows, and a tapestry depicting hunting dogs and horse-mounted aristocrats chasing after a wolf hangs from an iron rod bolted to the south wall. In that same wall is a free-swinging door that appears to lead into some sort of kitchen.
 
Kellen moves into this room, just a well appointed, and taken care of as the other one. He pauses a moment, a thought forming, they already appeared in a new land through the fog in the forest, and now a magical fog has moved in on them outside this house - which is much nicer than it appeared from the outside.
He closes his eyes and attunes to Nimble and sees, nothing. Nimble is sitting, faithfully in grayness. Through his weasels senses he cannot even smell the children they were with, the only smell is a sick, unhappy smell.
Get out!, Kellen thinks as he unsummons Nimble into a pocket dimension, and resummons him to appear in the room, at his feet.
He picks him up, putting him on his shoulders - "What is going on out there" he wonders aloud.

He searches about the room, pulling back tapestries and paintings, finding nothing. As he does so he relays what he thinks he's discovered. "I think the magic of the forest may be following us - Nimble was sitting in nothing outside, the children had vanished, and this house does not seem like the one we stepped into outside..."

He starts to head for the kitchen, quartz talisman at the ready.
 
Abalister moves into the room last, brandishing his staff akwardly at arm's length in front of him. Once it becomes apparent that there are no monsters lying in wait to tear his jugular from it's home in his neck, he relaxes somewhat, tamping the staff against the floor.

He surveys the room, noting the tapestriesand the fine dining set and comments, "Seems tg-that th-this house belongedddd to nobility?" as much as asked.
 
Bronria immediately sets to checking the room just as she has with the others, pausing only to give Abalister an odd look. "Of course it belongs to nobility. A house this size, so well maintained, could not belong to any other," she says as she runs her fingers over the bricks of the fireplace, then goes down on one knee to check under the table.

Kellen's comments catch her by surprise, though she can't say she feels shocked. "I see. Strange, too, how these children never mentioned any preparations for guests," she murmurs, looking over the table set for eight. She shakes her head. "We will find the source of all this." With that, she likewise heads for the kitchen.
 
The kitchen is tidy, with dishware, cookware, and utensils neatly placed on shelves. A worktable has a cutting board and rolling pin atop it. A stone, dome-shaped oven stands near the east wall, its bent iron stovepipe connecting to a hole in the ceiling. Behind the stove and to the left is a thin door, standing open, leading to a well-stocked pantry. Set into the south wall, at about chest height, is a smaller door that you would recognise as a dumbwaiter. Finally, there is a door that leads back out into the main hall.
 
By now, Bronria has started to get into a rhythm, though she takes care not to become complacent as she paces around the kitchen, knocking on the walls and tapping the flagstones, checking under anything that hides part of the floor from sight. It's in this rigorous search that she spots a thin silver chain tucked beneath a bench and obscured by the nearby stove.

She lifts the chain up and discovers the image of a silver dragon swinging beneath it, the metal chilly even in her mailed fist as she turns it. "...Interesting," she murmurs. The symbology isn't something she recognises, but then it could just be a noble's lost trinket. So as not to forget about it, she puts the pendant around her neck, feeling oddy like a thief. "We will see if its owner can be found," she announces, mostly for her own peace of mind.

With that done she finishes her sweep of the kitchen and pantry, clicking her tongue as she discovers that the dumbwaiter does not go down to any basement. "I can see little else of interest here. Are we ready to continue?" She has already begun moving toward the door that leads back to the main hall, intent on searching whatever room might be behind that third door before moving on to the upper floor.
 
Kellen tries to keep up with Bronria, short legs pumping along behind her. It's all he can do to look behind some dishes on a shelf, and in some cupboards, before she announces that they are done and moving on. "Yes yes, let's move forward, one room left on this floor, I believe?"
 
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Crossing the hall, you open the last unopened door on this level. This oak-paneled room looks like a hunter's den. Mounted above the fireplace is a stag's head, and positioned around the outskirts of the room are three stuffed wolves. Two padded chairs draped in animal furs face the hearth, with an oak table between them supporting a cask of wine, two carved wooden goblets, a pipe rack, and a candelabrum. A chandelier hangs above a cloth-covered table surrounded by four chairs, which is all set tidily on a simple, yet elegant rug in the centre of the room. Two cabinets stand against the walls, reaching from floor to ceiling.
 
Abalister follows the others into the room,his staff held ineffectively before him. His brow furrows as curiousity temporarily pushes the fear aside. "Ghastly," he comments on the decor, eyeing the stuffed animals. He strides across the room and moves to stand before one of the cabinets.
 
If the rest of the house has held a candle to Bronria's nostalgia, this new room lights a fire under it. Forgetting her investigation for a moment, she gazes at the wolves and stag's head with a quiet fondness. If she lets her focus wander and allows her eyelids to fall just so, she can almost pretend she is back in Tempogelida, holed up in the withdrawing room among her family's own hunting trophies, listening to Lady Beryl recount her tales of adventure in the great wilderness.

Her brief daydream is interrupted by Abalister's remark. She gives him a look. "It appeals to some," she murmurs, crossing to the other side of the room and bending down to inspect the fireplace with her typical attentiveness.

Once again she turns up nothing. No loose stones, no moving parts, no hollow spots in the walls or floor when she raps on them. She squeezes the strap of her shield thoughtfully. "If that is all there is to this room, perhaps we ought to move on to the first floor," she muses once she has searched the room to her satisfaction. She stands up and takes position by the door, waiting for her companions to content themselves with the expectation that they will soon move on to the staircase in the main hall.
 
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Kellen follows into the room, keeping his opinion to himself for once. He pokes around curious, testing to see if the cask is real or just decoration. A dark wine comes out, though he thinks better of trying it, placing the cup back on the table. He walks behind Bronria to a cabinet that she found to be locked. **"Hmm, what do we have here"** he says to himself softly, having been quiet for quite long enough. He turns to Ordienna **"Would you mind friend? I fear we'll miss something if we don't try everything"** After Ordienna opens the cabinet, it is revealed to be hunting instruments, crossbows and bolts.
**"Let's move upwards"** he says softly.
 
The stairs lead upwards to a second hall, similar to the first. Unlit oil lamps are mounted on the walls of this elegant hall. Hanging above the mantelpiece is a wood-framed portrait of a family: a mother and father with their two smiling children, whom you recognise as Rose and Thorn. Cradled in the father's arms is a swaddled baby, which the mother regards with a hint of scorn. Standing suits of armor flank wooden doors in the east and west walls. Each suit of armor clutches a spear and has a visored helm shaped like a wolf's head. There are two large doors, one on either side of the hall, as well as a smaller door tucked away near the stairs. The doors are carved with dancing youths. The red marble staircase that started on the first floor continues its upward spiral, and a cold draft can be felt coming down the steps.
 
Frowning, the scholar is fairly oblivious to the carvings in the wood, transfixed as he is by the family portrait. He stares at it for a long moment before pointing out, "Th-th-that is the ch-ch...kids from outside," asking as much as stating. "Interesting."
 
Bronria stops at the same portrait, squinting up at it as the scholar makes his comment. "Yes." She can't think of anything to add that isn't speculation, and she doesn't want to dwell on things she doesn't know. Determined to find some hint of the house's true nature, she patrols the room with an eye for anything that might be out of place, any fault with the walls or floor that might make itself apparent. She even jostles the portrait and tweaks the spears being held by the wolf-headed suits of armour. But again, nothing is forthcoming.

Nothing but a curious pair of engravings in the large doors on either side of the hallway. Bronria bends down to get a closer look. "This artist must have had a taste for the macabre," she remarks as she examines the dancing youths -- not dancing as she first thought, but fearfully waving their arms against what look like swarms of bats. Leaving the large doors well enough alone for now, the knight-in-training paces back down the hall to the small door by the top of the stairs. "We are making progress," she murmurs, almost to herself, as she reaches for the handle.
 
An undecorated bedroom contains a pair of beds with straw-stuffed mattresses. At the foot of each bed is an empty footlocker, lids hanging open. Tidy servants' uniforms hang from hooks in the adjoining closet, the door of which sits just ajar enough for you to see in. A dumbwaiter in the corner of the west wall has a button on the wall next to it. Based on your best estimates of the house layout, this is the same one as the one you found in the kitchen.
 
Kellen walks into the room, and knowing that it is a servants room based on the grandeur of the rest of the space, still marvels at the amount of space big'uns take up. "This is all really rather extravagant. Even this mechanism for the dumbwaiter... a button hardly seems efficient. You'd think a pulley for a bell or something similarly simple would make more sense." He walks over to the offending button as he says so, finger intent on pressing it.
 
Seeing the direction Kellen is heading in, Bronria strides forward and takes his wrist as he reaches for the button. "No." Then she blinks and releases her grip, clearing her throat suddenly. "That is to say, make sure it will not trigger any traps. Or if you are willing, leave it be until the rest of the room has been checked." She remains standing there awkwardly for a second longer before abruptly moving away to begin her routine.
 
Kellen pulls his hand back - from Bronria and the button at the same time. "Yes....yes of course, it only makes sense to be careful. Especially with something I find so curious..." Kellen helps Bronria examine the room, but stays mostly around the dumbwaiter wanting to know what machinery powers the device.
 
The search, as before, turns up nothing. Bronria shakes her head as she returns to the door. "This is becoming quite vexing. From what I can tell, this room has either never been inhabited, or someone certainly wanted to create that impression." She eyes the servants' uniforms one last time, then turns to head out. "The engraved doors next, yes? The nearest ones, on this side of the room."
 
Kellen inspects the button, sure that it does nothing but call the dumbwaiter he presses it. He listens closely and hears a faint jangling. "It does but ring the bell downstairs..." he mutters to himself "But how? Such a short press should not result in such a steady sound..." he notices Bronria is talking to him already. "Yes, I think so - I wonder if we will actually find a monster in this house." Not that he minds at all.
 
You open the door, revealing what could be some sort of office or library. Red velvet drapes cover the windows of this room. An exquisite mahogany desk and a matching high-back chair face the entrance and the fireplace, above which hangs a framed picture of a windmill perched atop a rocky crag. Situated in corners of the room are two overstuffed chairs. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the south wall. A rolling wooden ladder allows one to more easily reach the high shelves. The desk has several items resting atop it: an oil lamp, a jar of ink, a quill pen, a tinderbox, a red wax candle, several sheets of parchment, and a wooden seal bearing the windmill insignia.
 
Stepping into the new room, Bronria begins to feel some of the tension leaving her shoulders. Something about standing in a comfortable study surrounded by books touches some deep part of her psyhe, almost potent enough to distract her from the task at hand. Almost.

She straightens up and begins to go over the room just as before, stepping deliberately on the floorboards and tracing the outlines of the bricks in the fireplace. The desk hides nothing interesting, and neither do the drapes. The bookcases contain the sort of literature that could be found in any home... save one untitled book that happens to catch Bronria's eye.

Curious, she goes to tug it from the shelf, only to feel it catch on something halfway. Then she draws in her breath as the whole shelf begins to swing outwards. "What in the world..."

Releasing it, she lets the shelf move back while readying her shield, which she raises squarely in front of herself. "All of you, be ready," she all but orders her three companions. When she pulls on the book again and waits for the shelf to move aside, her other hand keeps the shield raised against whatever might lie in wait.
 
The room hidden behind the bookcase looks like an extension of the library, with floor-to-ceiling shelves, filled with books, most of which have no titles on the spine, and are bound in what appear to be a dark leather. However, what draws your attention most is not the sides of the room, but the centre. On the floor is a large chest, lid hanging open. More distressingly, however, are two humanoid skeletons dressed in tattered leather armour. The first is slung over the edge of the chest, several needle-like darts sticking out of the leather breastplate. The second is lying on the ground, right inside the doorway. While there are no obvious indications as to cause of death, the scratches on the bottom of the wooden backing to the bookshelf give you a pretty good idea.
 
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