In which the party reflects upon what they found in that eerie house, much to Grismar’s edification.
The party stands in the yard of the old brick house, coughing and wheezing steamy breath into the frosty air. Black smoke belches out of the chimneys, contrasted against a bright sky. Grismar blinks the sun out of his eyes and examines the gashes in his cloak. “That… went fast.” “For you, maybe.” Fillegan responds. “We’ve actually been busy.” “Really? Even after that shambling mound?”
The rogue nods. “Kurwin came to look for us when we were still downstairs. He had a run-in with some ghouls. We bloody well tripped over ourselves. Half of us were trying to get him to come down to us while the rest of us tried to to rush upstairs at the same time. Once we dispatched the ghoulies, we checked up on Gustav’s tomb, which was empty. Ran into a bunch of shady figures as well, which seemed to feel attached to Chand’s new shiny toy… Hey, who was that statue of, anyway?”
Chand appears not to hear the question, being focused instead on a fine-looking rope hanging over his shoulder. It twitches every now and then as he speaks to it. Fitzworth spits a glob of black slime into the grass. “Then there was a mimic. Tricked me into thinking he was a door. Very toothy fellow, that. Almost bit my whiskers off. Oh, and more ghouls.”
“Found the owners of this damned place too.” Kurwin adds. “They had all sorts of fascinating goods hidden away.” Sumu blows into her hands.” But why seal themselves into the walls? I’ve only heard of such treatment for ascetic martyrs and saints. And even then only in the less… ah… pleasant holy orders. Maybe it was punishment? Something to do with that letter we found?”
Kurwin looks thoughful. “Maybe. Shelter first, debate later.” Grismar cheers up at those words. “Great idea! Someplace warm. With a big fireplace and a well-stocked bar. Before we all freeze solid out here.” Sumu, teeth chattering, nods in agreement. Fillegan slides past her and starts walking ahead, whistling tunelessly. Fitzworth looks over his shoulder, gives an exaggerated wink at Chand, and says: “You coming too, wizard?” The sorceror, now having convinced the rope to tie itself in knots, pointedly ignores the druid, but joins the group anyway.