As Sen passes the doorway - of course intent on the cabinet! - he sees their two companions standing in the hall, looking at one another rather intensely and speaking - Messaging? - words he can't hear.
And holding hands still.
Last night, that boy was chilly to all of them, but Dima most of all. Now, he looks like he's at the bottom of a well and his only hope is that hand.
Or - that could be Sen's fanciful imagination. He IS a bard, after all.
Even so, he nudges Rin and nods at the pair - then sends his own Message to the Tiefling. [ Five silver says one of them creeps into the other's bedroll before the week is out. ]
Faolan thinks maybe he went too far. He didn't mean to hurt Dmitri (better him than Faolan, though, isn't that true?)
(It didn't used to be.) (His heart could take it, then.) (Oh, what he would have risked for those eyes three years ago. For a kiss. For a voice in his ear speaking his name. For a hand in his own like a promise.) (Only ever promises, is the problem.)
In another life, maybe he would have gone back on his words. Maybe he would have flirted, would have liked to catch Dmitri up in a kiss, and maybe their twined hands might have meant something else.
He's sorry. He's terribly sorry. A flicker in his expression says it better than words: regret, resignation - weariness.
Rather than reply, he turns to peer into one of the other rooms.
It proves to be the dining room. The centerpiece of this wood-paneled room is a carved mahogany table surrounded by eight high-backed chairs with sculpted armrests and cushioned seats. A 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 in here is carved with elegant images of deer among the trees.
Red silk drapes cover the windows and a tapestry depicting hounding dogs and horse-mounted aristocrats chasing after a wolf hangs from an iron rod bolted to the south wall.
Faolan fixates on the tapestry, performs only a perfunctory scan of the room to be sure there's no monster or corpses, and shakes his head again at Dima. [ I’m not going in. ]
A wan smile and press of his hand. [ Unless I'm needed, I'm not going in there. ]
<.>
Rin's eyes light up, and they offer Sen a grin. They've encountered this magic or something of its kind before - it's handy among thieves - and their response follows quickly: [ Oh, delightful! ]
They mean the magic— They also mean the wager. Rin's pretty sure Sen's claimed the better bet already, but that's all right. Five silver's easy enough to steal somewhere if they lose out. [ You're on! Five silver at the end of the week! ]
Which. Come to think of it. Suggests the four of them will be staying together for a week. They'll have to, now that the bet's on! Rin's invested. And though they rarely spend more than a day among company, they find they don't dislike this prospect in the least.
Putting these thoughts on hold, Rin's going to make an attempt at opening cabinet no. 2.
[note: Note: The cabinet opens with ease; within is a small box containing a deck of playing cards and a collection of wine glasses.]
Rin is going to offer the deck to Sen; he looks like the kind of very dashing knave who might excel with cards. The glasses— They'd like to throw a glass. For fun. But no, no, stealth comes first. If Sen seems to see nothing noteworthy in the glasses, Rin's going to start out of the room.
Dima knows a cut across his heart; the regret, the look of erosion in Faolan's expression. It's worse somehow than the distance, the 'nothing else.' (Someone's hurt this boy. It's a thought, a certainty forming with slow ire.) (It's another thought he'll have to shelve for now.) Dima's hand loses its tension, and he measures Fae's regret with open eyes, with the subtlest of nods.
At Fae's words - at, oh, the press of his hand? (just for stealth) (maybe not entirely just for stealth?) - Dima presses back, softly, unimposing. He's going to take a quick look into the room of his own, glancing at no more than what his hold of Fae's hand allows, then return his eyes to Fae.
(Wolves again. A showcasing of hunters again.)
(Is there something about the Durst family and wolves? Are they known for their hunting? What is it itching at Dima's recollection?)
(And what it is that warded Fae from these rooms?)
[ For the moment, the room appears entirely incidental. No monster; no father. ] Another small press of Faolan's hand, and, [ If it becomes necessary, we'll send the thieves in, yes? ]
<.>
Whatever might have been said next - by Sen, by Faolan, by anyone - there's a sound just loud enough to bring a different sort of hush on the group.
Footsteps, perhaps, above them. The sound of distant - crying?
Thinking quickly, Sen hurries past Rin ( [ I'll be right back. ] ) and the two men in the hall, motioning wordlessly that he's stepping outside.
A moment later, he returns, his expression grown sober and his eyes cast upward. When the party has gathered at the foot of the stairs, he relays to them in a hushed voice that he asked the children if anyone other was in the house.
Rose and Thorn told him they aren't sure of their parents' whereabouts, their infant brother, Walter, is still in his nursery on the third floor.
"Much as I'd like to continue picking through their things, I'm not interested in leaving an infant alone, monster or none. Perhaps a more expeditious search?"
<.>
Rin's impulse is a question they keep quiet only by the grace of some god or other, because why didn't the older ones take their sibling?
Probably that's not the point right now.
Maybe little Walter's a shit. Maybe little Walter likes the monster?
Doesn't matter; Sen suggests moving on, so that's what they'll do.
First, though, Rin extends the large crossbow toward Faolan. "We found it," they explain quietly, succinct.
<.>
Faolan stares at the crossbow with a frown, then shakes his head. He doesn't know how to use that contraption - though it's nice they found some weapons. With his free hand, he taps the scimitar at his side: he's good.
Good enough to take the lead, because he suspects he might be the only one with actual fighting ability in this group, other than Dmitri - who -
Well. He's not going to think about that. (How taking the crossbow would have meant letting go. Would have been an excuse to let go.)
He starts up the stairs, pulling Dima along behind him. Sen, ever chivalrous, offers to go ahead of Rin.
On the second level, the party arrives in another hall like the one below. The oil lamps are unlit here, as well. Hanging above the mantle of the fireplace is a portrait of the Durst family: Rose and Thorn with their parents. In their father's arms is a swaddled baby, which the mother regards with a hint of scorn.
Four suits of armor wearing helms in the shapes of wolf heads flank doors on either side of the hall. These doors are carved with dancing youths.
Just off the stairs, a door opens into an undecorated bedroom containing a pair of beds with straw-stuffed mattresses. The chests at the end of each are open and empty, and a hook on the wall holds a tidy servant's uniform. Nothing else of interest can be seen in this room.
The stairs continue on upward, and there's a cold draft flowing down.
Sen breaks from the group to move toward the doors on the north side of the hall where he examines the carvings with silent bemusement. Once again, he shrugs it away, but despite the sense of urgency, he does open the door to see what's in this particular room.
<.>
Dima absolutely believes this man can wield the scimitar with aplomb.
He keeps step with Faolan, though he'll pause at the top of the stairs, seeking anything that might prompt memory's return. He'd like to examine the painting, and examine the carvings on the doors Sen hasn't opened.
Dima also intends to keep half an eye on Fae, watching for any recurrence of the unease shown at the rooms below.
Rin's curiosity follows Sen, but they're going to swing through the undecorated room (servants' quarters?). Their first order of business is to find somewhere to stow the large crossbow; if Sen not's going to take it and Fae's not going to take it, they don't want anyone else stumbling in and laying hands on the thing. Loose weapons sink... Something.
Rin's going to look around the room for somewhere to hide the weapon. They're also going to start wondering how long those kids have been living in this very dark very empty house.
Not that it doesn't happen.
Not that Rin hasn't lived in very dark, very empty places themself.
[note: The only places to stow a crossbow in the undecorated room are beneath the beds; the weapon is too large to fit in the small chests.]
Under the bed works for Rin, and they will shove it as near to the wall as they can.
[PERC, d: 22]
<.>
Examining the wood paneling for a moment, Dima will realize the youths are not dancing, but are instead attempting to stave off a swarm of bats.
From here out, if Dima examines the wood carvings in the house, he will notice things are not as they appear.
Examination of the portrait gives him no further clue to the identity of the family.
Examination of Faolan shows his distinct unease with the suits of armor. He's patiently following Dima, but he clearly doesn't want to be here.
Sen, meanwhile, has discovered a 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."
<.>
Dima leans toward the carving, eyes fixed in focus. This could be an affectation in the decor, but given the state of this place, it seems unlikely. He absolutely intends to continue examining the carvings through the house. He's also going to give Faolan's hand a slight half-tug. Partly to share the discovery; partly to draw his attention away from the suits of armor.
(Wolf-helmed armor.) (The hunted wolf.) (The hunted wolves put on display.) (And Faolan, gone silent. Faolan, looking for all the world like he'd rather claw himself away from this place—
But he hasn't done so.
He remains here, still holding Dima's hand.)
[ Do you see this? The swarm? ] He traces a finger through one of the bat swarms, then looks to Faolan for confirmation.
Rin, having stowed the crossbow, sticks their head into the room Sen's found. Wanting to get his attention without making too much noise, they offer a soft 'hoo.' If he looks, they'll cock their head, as if to suggest, ’You got this room?’ He lookS like he's got this room. And if Sen doesn't seem in need of a hand, Rin will go slip open the other set of double doors.
<.>
Faolan didn't see the swarm. He does now, however, and leans in to examine the odd carvings. (Didn't he see more downstairs? Are they all like this?)
Rin pushes past them into a room that appears to be a large, most-empty room. Gossamer drapes cover the windows; a brass-plated chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Upholstered chairs line the walls, and stained-glass wall hangings depict beautiful men, women, and children singing and playing instruments.
A harpsichord with a bench rests in one corner. Near the fireplace is a standing harp. Rin's inspection of alabaster figurines of well-dressed dancers adorning the mantelpiece will reveal several are well-dressed skeletons.
Faolan doesn't particularly want to go in that room. He'd like to continue on out of here; find the infant, find the monster. Get away from this strange house.
Sen, who is still beaming about the hoot sent his way, begins to rifle through the contents of the library, starting with the desk.
In the desk drawer, he finds an iron key and nothing else. Strange. Strange enough to pocket.
He also examines the rows of books. (Perception: 17)
He spots a fake book and, upon pulling it, finds he has discovered a secret door.
Well, of course he must go inside!
The door shuts behind him, plunging him into darkness - but not before he sees the skeleton sharing the room with him.
“FUCK.”
<.>
Rin thinks this is getting weird.
Okay, it's been weird, and the harpsicord's a bit much, but it's not as if they don't appreciate macabre tokens. It's not as if they aren't going to grab for a few of them and drop them into their newfound bag. ’One for me, two for sale,’ they figure. That seems fair.
They're considering plucking a harp string when the windows catch their eye. Rin would like to take a look outside. Just to see if anything's changed. Maybe see if they can catch a glimpse of the two kids.
Dima, having seen Faolan's continued unease, glances around for sight of the thieves, who've made themselves quite scarce— Or, no, there's the tiefling in one room, eyes out the windows.
It's the glass that catches Dima's eye. He'd like to have a look at those images, and see whether they hold any, mm, odd details.
He glances to Fae: [ A quick look? Something's off. I just want to see, and I'd rather not leave you here. ]
<.>
Looking out the windows, Rin can see that the town has been consumed by an impenetrable white mist. The children are not visible from their vantage point.
Faolan looks between Dmitri and the room and back again, then shakes his head no. He feels uneasier the more he thinks of the carving, of the wolves. (Hunted. Dead.)
Dima's right: something is off, and the sooner they find that infant, the sooner they can get the hell out of here.
And, in a low stage whisper, he leans into the conservatory and calls for Rin. ”Rin, let's go.”
<.>
Oh.
...Oh?
Of course he'll go with (Fae) Faolan. All thought of joining Rin is summarily banished, and Dima finds he's staring at Faolan just a little wide-eyed, finds he lost hold of thought for a moment there. He shakes his head slightly, the better to bring himself to the present, then nods—
[ We keep moving, then. Yes. ]
Rin's moving toward Dima and Fae, then past them, remarking quietly, sounding a little bit annoyed: "It's misty out. When'd that happen?"
Awfully convenient for mist to—
Wait.
What—
They call a little louder than they intended (just a bit above a whisper) (not not feeling sudden unease): "Sen?"
A glance back, as if expecting to see the elf poke his head around the door - no, though; that's only Fae and Dima - and Rin begins to search for signs of Sen.
no subject
And holding hands still.
Last night, that boy was chilly to all of them, but Dima most of all. Now, he looks like he's at the bottom of a well and his only hope is that hand.
Or - that could be Sen's fanciful imagination. He IS a bard, after all.
Even so, he nudges Rin and nods at the pair - then sends his own Message to the Tiefling. [ Five silver says one of them creeps into the other's bedroll before the week is out. ]
Faolan thinks maybe he went too far. He didn't mean to hurt Dmitri (better him than Faolan, though, isn't that true?)
(It didn't used to be.) (His heart could take it, then.) (Oh, what he would have risked for those eyes three years ago. For a kiss. For a voice in his ear speaking his name. For a hand in his own like a promise.) (Only ever promises, is the problem.)
In another life, maybe he would have gone back on his words. Maybe he would have flirted, would have liked to catch Dmitri up in a kiss, and maybe their twined hands might have meant something else.
He's sorry. He's terribly sorry. A flicker in his expression says it better than words: regret, resignation - weariness.
Rather than reply, he turns to peer into one of the other rooms.
It proves to be the dining room. The centerpiece of this wood-paneled room is a carved mahogany table surrounded by eight high-backed chairs with sculpted armrests and cushioned seats. A 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 in here is carved with elegant images of deer among the trees.
Red silk drapes cover the windows and a tapestry depicting hounding dogs and horse-mounted aristocrats chasing after a wolf hangs from an iron rod bolted to the south wall.
Faolan fixates on the tapestry, performs only a perfunctory scan of the room to be sure there's no monster or corpses, and shakes his head again at Dima. [ I’m not going in. ]
A wan smile and press of his hand. [ Unless I'm needed, I'm not going in there. ]
<.>
Rin's eyes light up, and they offer Sen a grin. They've encountered this magic or something of its kind before - it's handy among thieves - and their response follows quickly: [ Oh, delightful! ]
They mean the magic— They also mean the wager. Rin's pretty sure Sen's claimed the better bet already, but that's all right. Five silver's easy enough to steal somewhere if they lose out. [ You're on! Five silver at the end of the week! ]
Which. Come to think of it. Suggests the four of them will be staying together for a week. They'll have to, now that the bet's on! Rin's invested. And though they rarely spend more than a day among company, they find they don't dislike this prospect in the least.
Putting these thoughts on hold, Rin's going to make an attempt at opening cabinet no. 2.
[note: Note: The cabinet opens with ease; within is a small box containing a deck of playing cards and a collection of wine glasses.]
Rin is going to offer the deck to Sen; he looks like the kind of very dashing knave who might excel with cards. The glasses— They'd like to throw a glass. For fun. But no, no, stealth comes first. If Sen seems to see nothing noteworthy in the glasses, Rin's going to start out of the room.
Dima knows a cut across his heart; the regret, the look of erosion in Faolan's expression. It's worse somehow than the distance, the 'nothing else.' (Someone's hurt this boy. It's a thought, a certainty forming with slow ire.) (It's another thought he'll have to shelve for now.) Dima's hand loses its tension, and he measures Fae's regret with open eyes, with the subtlest of nods.
At Fae's words - at, oh, the press of his hand? (just for stealth) (maybe not entirely just for stealth?) - Dima presses back, softly, unimposing. He's going to take a quick look into the room of his own, glancing at no more than what his hold of Fae's hand allows, then return his eyes to Fae.
(Wolves again. A showcasing of hunters again.)
(Is there something about the Durst family and wolves? Are they known for their hunting? What is it itching at Dima's recollection?)
(And what it is that warded Fae from these rooms?)
[ For the moment, the room appears entirely incidental. No monster; no father. ] Another small press of Faolan's hand, and, [ If it becomes necessary, we'll send the thieves in, yes? ]
<.>
Whatever might have been said next - by Sen, by Faolan, by anyone - there's a sound just loud enough to bring a different sort of hush on the group.
Footsteps, perhaps, above them. The sound of distant - crying?
Thinking quickly, Sen hurries past Rin ( [ I'll be right back. ] ) and the two men in the hall, motioning wordlessly that he's stepping outside.
A moment later, he returns, his expression grown sober and his eyes cast upward. When the party has gathered at the foot of the stairs, he relays to them in a hushed voice that he asked the children if anyone other was in the house.
Rose and Thorn told him they aren't sure of their parents' whereabouts, their infant brother, Walter, is still in his nursery on the third floor.
"Much as I'd like to continue picking through their things, I'm not interested in leaving an infant alone, monster or none. Perhaps a more expeditious search?"
<.>
Rin's impulse is a question they keep quiet only by the grace of some god or other, because why didn't the older ones take their sibling?
Probably that's not the point right now.
Maybe little Walter's a shit. Maybe little Walter likes the monster?
Doesn't matter; Sen suggests moving on, so that's what they'll do.
First, though, Rin extends the large crossbow toward Faolan. "We found it," they explain quietly, succinct.
<.>
Faolan stares at the crossbow with a frown, then shakes his head. He doesn't know how to use that contraption - though it's nice they found some weapons. With his free hand, he taps the scimitar at his side: he's good.
Good enough to take the lead, because he suspects he might be the only one with actual fighting ability in this group, other than Dmitri - who -
Well. He's not going to think about that. (How taking the crossbow would have meant letting go. Would have been an excuse to let go.)
He starts up the stairs, pulling Dima along behind him. Sen, ever chivalrous, offers to go ahead of Rin.
On the second level, the party arrives in another hall like the one below. The oil lamps are unlit here, as well. Hanging above the mantle of the fireplace is a portrait of the Durst family: Rose and Thorn with their parents. In their father's arms is a swaddled baby, which the mother regards with a hint of scorn.
Four suits of armor wearing helms in the shapes of wolf heads flank doors on either side of the hall. These doors are carved with dancing youths.
Just off the stairs, a door opens into an undecorated bedroom containing a pair of beds with straw-stuffed mattresses. The chests at the end of each are open and empty, and a hook on the wall holds a tidy servant's uniform. Nothing else of interest can be seen in this room.
The stairs continue on upward, and there's a cold draft flowing down.
Sen breaks from the group to move toward the doors on the north side of the hall where he examines the carvings with silent bemusement. Once again, he shrugs it away, but despite the sense of urgency, he does open the door to see what's in this particular room.
<.>
Dima absolutely believes this man can wield the scimitar with aplomb.
He keeps step with Faolan, though he'll pause at the top of the stairs, seeking anything that might prompt memory's return. He'd like to examine the painting, and examine the carvings on the doors Sen hasn't opened.
Dima also intends to keep half an eye on Fae, watching for any recurrence of the unease shown at the rooms below.
Rin's curiosity follows Sen, but they're going to swing through the undecorated room (servants' quarters?). Their first order of business is to find somewhere to stow the large crossbow; if Sen not's going to take it and Fae's not going to take it, they don't want anyone else stumbling in and laying hands on the thing. Loose weapons sink... Something.
Rin's going to look around the room for somewhere to hide the weapon. They're also going to start wondering how long those kids have been living in this very dark very empty house.
Not that it doesn't happen.
Not that Rin hasn't lived in very dark, very empty places themself.
[note: The only places to stow a crossbow in the undecorated room are beneath the beds; the weapon is too large to fit in the small chests.]
Under the bed works for Rin, and they will shove it as near to the wall as they can.
[PERC, d: 22]
<.>
Examining the wood paneling for a moment, Dima will realize the youths are not dancing, but are instead attempting to stave off a swarm of bats.
From here out, if Dima examines the wood carvings in the house, he will notice things are not as they appear.
Examination of the portrait gives him no further clue to the identity of the family.
Examination of Faolan shows his distinct unease with the suits of armor. He's patiently following Dima, but he clearly doesn't want to be here.
Sen, meanwhile, has discovered a 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."
<.>
Dima leans toward the carving, eyes fixed in focus. This could be an affectation in the decor, but given the state of this place, it seems unlikely. He absolutely intends to continue examining the carvings through the house. He's also going to give Faolan's hand a slight half-tug. Partly to share the discovery; partly to draw his attention away from the suits of armor.
(Wolf-helmed armor.) (The hunted wolf.) (The hunted wolves put on display.) (And Faolan, gone silent. Faolan, looking for all the world like he'd rather claw himself away from this place—
But he hasn't done so.
He remains here, still holding Dima's hand.)
[ Do you see this? The swarm? ] He traces a finger through one of the bat swarms, then looks to Faolan for confirmation.
Rin, having stowed the crossbow, sticks their head into the room Sen's found. Wanting to get his attention without making too much noise, they offer a soft 'hoo.' If he looks, they'll cock their head, as if to suggest, ’You got this room?’ He lookS like he's got this room. And if Sen doesn't seem in need of a hand, Rin will go slip open the other set of double doors.
<.>
Faolan didn't see the swarm. He does now, however, and leans in to examine the odd carvings. (Didn't he see more downstairs? Are they all like this?)
Rin pushes past them into a room that appears to be a large, most-empty room. Gossamer drapes cover the windows; a brass-plated chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Upholstered chairs line the walls, and stained-glass wall hangings depict beautiful men, women, and children singing and playing instruments.
A harpsichord with a bench rests in one corner. Near the fireplace is a standing harp. Rin's inspection of alabaster figurines of well-dressed dancers adorning the mantelpiece will reveal several are well-dressed skeletons.
Faolan doesn't particularly want to go in that room. He'd like to continue on out of here; find the infant, find the monster. Get away from this strange house.
Sen, who is still beaming about the hoot sent his way, begins to rifle through the contents of the library, starting with the desk.
In the desk drawer, he finds an iron key and nothing else. Strange. Strange enough to pocket.
He also examines the rows of books. (Perception: 17)
He spots a fake book and, upon pulling it, finds he has discovered a secret door.
Well, of course he must go inside!
The door shuts behind him, plunging him into darkness - but not before he sees the skeleton sharing the room with him.
“FUCK.”
<.>
Rin thinks this is getting weird.
Okay, it's been weird, and the harpsicord's a bit much, but it's not as if they don't appreciate macabre tokens. It's not as if they aren't going to grab for a few of them and drop them into their newfound bag. ’One for me, two for sale,’ they figure. That seems fair.
They're considering plucking a harp string when the windows catch their eye. Rin would like to take a look outside. Just to see if anything's changed. Maybe see if they can catch a glimpse of the two kids.
Dima, having seen Faolan's continued unease, glances around for sight of the thieves, who've made themselves quite scarce— Or, no, there's the tiefling in one room, eyes out the windows.
It's the glass that catches Dima's eye. He'd like to have a look at those images, and see whether they hold any, mm, odd details.
He glances to Fae: [ A quick look? Something's off. I just want to see, and I'd rather not leave you here. ]
<.>
Looking out the windows, Rin can see that the town has been consumed by an impenetrable white mist. The children are not visible from their vantage point.
Faolan looks between Dmitri and the room and back again, then shakes his head no. He feels uneasier the more he thinks of the carving, of the wolves. (Hunted. Dead.)
Dima's right: something is off, and the sooner they find that infant, the sooner they can get the hell out of here.
And, in a low stage whisper, he leans into the conservatory and calls for Rin. ”Rin, let's go.”
<.>
Oh.
...Oh?
Of course he'll go with (Fae) Faolan. All thought of joining Rin is summarily banished, and Dima finds he's staring at Faolan just a little wide-eyed, finds he lost hold of thought for a moment there. He shakes his head slightly, the better to bring himself to the present, then nods—
[ We keep moving, then. Yes. ]
Rin's moving toward Dima and Fae, then past them, remarking quietly, sounding a little bit annoyed: "It's misty out. When'd that happen?"
Awfully convenient for mist to—
Wait.
What—
They call a little louder than they intended (just a bit above a whisper) (not not feeling sudden unease): "Sen?"
A glance back, as if expecting to see the elf poke his head around the door - no, though; that's only Fae and Dima - and Rin begins to search for signs of Sen.
<.>