The Manor is cold and grey, the doorway of old wood in a granite portico. The wind is colder here and the door ajar. No sign of Rump, the Squire; Brother Odo recited a prayer of blessing and Ruggerio pushed the door open with his boot. It creaked and swung aside. We walked in, to be greeted by a spectral butler who asked for our hats. "We have none" Novarion replied and with a hurrumph the ghostly lackey walked through a door.
The walls are lined with pictures, as we viewed them, a scythe materilised, swung at Brother Odo, who ducked and then it vanished. A door opened at the end of the hall and three corpses fell into out before us.
Virmir's torch blew out and a mad scream came from behind another door.
And so it begins.
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