We retreated back into the Mumbling Hall; Virmir admitted the map was hard to read but we got onto Singing Swordsman Hall and then to judge by the tip-tapping, we had found Footsteps Hall. We stopped to get our breath and still the footsteps kept on around us in the emptiness. As we started creeping down the corridor, a skeleton creaked out in front of us from the gloom. Brother Odo raised his hand in the Holy Sign and the boney fellow turned and ran. Down the eeriness of Whistling Hall and there was the Vestibule Door, praise be! Novarion checked it and Usk shoved it open - ahead of us lay a dank, overgrown garden where dismal weeds had choked any flowers years ago - we followed the gavel path but Novarion stepped off it and a wiry, yet rotting hand grasped his ankle! Oakheart shouted "HOLD your steps!" but Lucca had already gone to help the Elf and he too was snatched. We gathered about, avoiding stepping off of the path and hacked at the hands at arms length while our comrades were slowly dragged under the rank soil! Sir Hugh's double handed sword had the reach while Usk and Oakheart, being tall men could just manage. Novarion was helpless but Lucca's stilleto stabbed his attacker sharply. With a slashing of reeking flesh as Usk's broadsword tore, Lucca was freed and joined the desperate fight to save the Elf. Oakheart's bastard sword ripped the bony nighmare into a tatter and Novarion was dragged out of the earth.
We kept to the path now and moved quickly in the dying afternoon light to the Hermitage - which sat unchancily in the shadow of The Wizard's Tower. "Open in the Name of Light!" called Brother Odo. "And of the Overlord, you degenerate varlet" muttered Sir Hugh. The door creaked open and a dishevelled Dwarf stood in the way - a dubious shortsword in his hand; behind him stood an Elf and two men at arms and behind them, holding a shaking longsword, traces of soup on his rusty armour was Sir Runic Rump himself "Are you here to buy the place?" he quavered, an aspect of hope on his raddled chops.
"No" replied Brother Odo "we are here to salvage your soul from the nighted gulfs and pour sweet benison upon your tortured mind".
Lucca brushed past the guards and servants as if they were feathers, "I'm more interested in a glass of wine, a meal and a sound sleep" he said, spying a warm place by the fire and munching on one of his garlic buds. With that a ghostly moan was heard and a sad visaged old man sank through the room, hurling a mug at Sir Runic who ducked. The mug shattered.
"Et in arcadia ergo" commented Virmir Pale Eyes, "ghosts everywhere".
We slept badly as the wind howled around the rackety old building. At midnight, from inside the Manor, a wolf howled.
