Prologue - Death House

"Are you sure you're all right Taniwha?"

As the man bluntly answers, she nods her head and shrugs her shoulders.

"Well, we best be going and setting right what once went wrong."

Abraham watches Taniwha, pretty sure his muttering is part of a two way conversation. Narrowing his eyes when the warrior brushes off concern about his well being, Abraham nevertheless turns to leave the room.

"Anything else take priority, or is it time to head downstairs and put this whole ordeal to rest?"

"I um, could carry them in my backpack." Narissa offers, I don't really have anything in there."

Taniwha shakes his head slightly at Narissa’s words, "The dollhouse. Rose your dollhouse." With purpose he turns heading back to the room and moves to the dollhouse. "Sorry Thorn may I have a look at your dollhouse?"

Taniwha looks over the toy house searching for anything strange, as well as attempting to memorise the layout especially the basement.

Thorn shies away from Taniwha, peering at him suspiciously. Still, he lets the tiefling look at his toy.

The dollhouse contains all three floors and the attic but seems to be missing the basement. Rose explains in Taniwha's head: "The basement isn't really part of the house, it's older. It was here when we moved in. I think it was here before Father told his men to build the house."

"Sorry Thorn I was . . . " He pauses he had hoped, "Nothing, thank you for letting me see your dollhouse. I will bring your Sister back shortly." He turns from the dollhouse, "I think we should leave the remains here together, in case we don’t return." He says talking to the group finally, lastly looking at Abraham. "Rose says she’ll let me fight."

And with that walks towards the basement entrance.

With everything in Narissa's pack, the party descends the rotting staircase into darkness. Amalthea's torch illuminates mossy walls of mortared stone, its weak yellow flame guttering all the way to the bottom of the stairwell.

At the bottom of the stairs, the air grows thick with damp and mold. The party is faced with a narrow, four-foot-wide passage of unworked earth, the seven-foot ceiling held up with moldy timbers. Pressed into ancient clay beneath your feet are the impressions of human footprints and bootprints going both directions. The hallway extends south for ten feet before branching to the east and west. A low, moaning chanting echoes from deep within the dungeon.

Rose can guide Taniwha to the crypts, which exist as a series of alcoves within the north and south walls of the east-west hall. Each alcove holds two crypts each, and all of the crypts are sealed with a stone slab. In order, they read: ABRAHAM DURST, WALTER DURST, GUSTAV DURST, ELIZABETH DURST, ROSAVALDA DURST, and THORNBOLDT DURST.

The dwarf whispers aloud, "Thank you for lending your torch Abraham."

In her non-dominant hand, Amalthea holds up her shield and moves forward enough so the group can gather at the foot of the stairs.

The cloak shrouded Tiefling moves up behind Amalthea, and listens as well for a short period, "Do you want me to lead, Rose maybe able to guide us."

Amalthea nods, letting Taniwha lead the way. If he wants the torch, she will pass it over and take out her warhammer instead.

Taniwha’s hood bobs a little towards Amalthea, as if the Tiefling had acknowledged the Dwarf with a nod of thanks or no thanks, before the shadowed figure moved off down the corridor. The Monk’s sharp eyes looking for dangers as he silently swept towards the right, curiosity pulling him towards Rose and Thorns crypts. "I am sure it will be comfortable."

Abraham hadn't taken his eyes off of the direction the chanting seemed to come from. He also seemed to be speaking, but without sound -- his lips moved fervently as he stared towards the chant. Still, when Taniwha moved off in the other direction he followed... walking backwards at first before turning to watch where he was going.

As he walks, he speaks. "I feel Lathander's hand upon my shoulder. Perhaps he blesses me for what is to come, but his gifts are unmistakeable."

With that, Abraham's shield bursts into a bright white light, illuminating the corridor much as a torch would but without the flicker.

As she is carrying the bones of the children, Narissa follows Taniwha and Abraham.

Amalthea looks around a bit, then whispers, "Hrm, no stench of evil or sounds of good, let's go."

As Abraham lights up his shield, she smiles and nods in approval. She takes the rear now, helping Narissa with her load if she needs it.

As the party approaches Rose and Thorn's crypts, they can see each crypt is shut by a stone slab etched with the child's name, underlined with a beautiful scrollwork engraving of a rose. While Amalthea and Narissa carry the bones, Taniwha and Abe work together to push open one slab and then the other. The sound of stone on packed earth is loud, and the job takes minutes even with both men working, but nothing omious leaps out of the shadows. Inside each crypt is a stone bier etched with the same name as the door. Both coffins are empty.

With sorrow at young life cut so short Narissa produces the bones.

Waiting til Narissa has placed the bones, Taniwha still shrouded in his hood drapes Rose’s cloak over her and then Thorn’s doll with his. "May you both hold each other in the next world as you did in this one, keeping each other warm against the cold darkness."

Once the remains are placed and each child's prized belonging put with them, Abraham will work to return each slab to its original position.

"Rose," he begins, placing one hand on the slab to Rose's resting place. "And Thorn," he continues, placing his other hand on the slab to Thorn's crypt. He biws his head and pauses, letting his hands rest on he two slabs as he debates what to say. "I am sorry the world failed you both, and I am sorry you have been trapped here, unable to move on. I pray you are released from this place, never to know hunger, or thirst, or cold, or darkness again. May Lathander's light guide you, together, to the peace you both deserve."

For a moment, it seems as if Abraham might continue... however, he removes his hands from the pair of stone slabs and picks up his shield. He turns away from the crypts, drawing his blade.

"Let us go get the answers we seek."

Amalthea bows her head during Abraham's blessing and makes her own sign for Dumathoin in honor of the fallen.

As the group moves away towards the sounds, she readies her shield and warhammer this time.