IT'S COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE ※ 1

[wildestmods]

IT'S COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE

When the castle spits them out, the sky is clear. They’re on a mountainside, with oaks and pines jutting up from the rocks on the steep slope. There doesn’t appear to be any bird song except for occasional caws from corvids. The moon is high and full, almost bright enough to see by even for those with dim human vision. A gentle breeze carries the smell of blooming roses and various nightshades. There’s a footpath, marked with cairns, that leads up the mountain.

That good weather lasts a total of five minutes, because shortly after that, the sky darkens with clouds blown in quickly by a violent wind. The rain starts to pour down with dangerous heaviness, and rivers quickly form down the mountainside, carrying rocks and debris with them. Lightning illuminates the horizon and the thunder is less than a half-second behind. The thunderheads swallow up the moon and the light with it.

Another crash of lightning, and a mansion with a wrought-iron gate is visible about a mile up the footpath. It appears to be the only shelter anywhere near by, as the weather starts to cause mudslides so heavy that they uproot small trees.

Once the group gets to the gate, they find it open – it even swings open before they touch it, as if it has a mind of its own. The mansion is massive and looming and seems in a state of disrepair, but there’s a single flickering lantern at the front door, indicating that someone might be home. Every step on the patio creaks and whines. The rain gushes down from the gutters. Some of the windows are boarded up, and others seem obscured by grey grime and smudges. There are shadows of movement inside, but they vanish when anyone approaches and are too indistinct to make out.

The front door is unlocked. The foyer is huge and dark, dimly-lit by guttering lanterns and candles. A variety of doors and staircases spin out from this main chamber, which has large oil paintings mounted of people in various states of peril. Rats can be heard scurrying around the floorboards. Coat hangers jut out of the wall in the shape of raven’s claws, and they seem to snatch at people’s garments, encouraging them to shrug off soaking wet clothing. Spiderwebs deck the corners.

Smeared into the floor with what appears to be ash are the words WELCOME TO OUR HOME.

PROMPTS

*indicates NPCed by mods – all others are free-for-all with some notes for guidance.

I. Pat and Robin*

Upon turning a corner, the group will be greeted by two people at the base of a stairwell. One is a short-statured middle-aged scoutsmaster with a mustache and thick glasses, notable because of the arrow that appears to be going straight through his neck. The other is a disheveled man with a heavy brow clad in pelts, the quintessential caveman.

"Oh, hello! I’d love to take your coat for you—well, couldn’t quite take your coat now, could I? On account of the whole, you know, ghost business." The scoutsmaster waves.

"He make good coat," the caveman says, pointing towards the man-sized rabbit in the group.

"I'm Pat, and this gentleman, well, for a very generous definition of gentleman, is Robin." At a lack of ideas for how else to greet them, Pat does a little bow. "It’d be quite nice of a few of you to follow up this way, you know, scout out the historic place and all that."

"Very historic," Robin adds, with a slow nod. "If you go behind gate, can see where my sister ate the first goat. Then see where goat ate my sister. Goats a lot bigger back then."

"That one seems a bit farfetched, mate," Pat says. "Alright, then, a group of three to follow me up the staircase, and a group of three to follow Robin to the quarters?"

II. Main Room*

The house’s entertainment quarters were once vast and splendorous; now it’s dark and dusty, not decayed so much as mummified, drained of life and left preserved. Elegant wood tables line the walls, covered in knicknacks and dead flowers, and a grand staircase sweeps up and to the left at the very end.

As you cross the threshold into the room, the door shuts behind you. Whether you ignore it or whirl to try and force it open again (unsuccessfully), the next voice you hear is not your own.

“Ah, excuse me!” It’s a weedy, wheedling voice, somehow oily. “Sorry for the inconvenience, but can you help me? I’m in a bit of a bind.”

III. Parlor

Mysterious music wafts through the halls. A gentle, baroque melody, soothing to the soul and bewitching to the ear. If you follow it, you find its source in a wide, elegant parlor, with tall french windows overlooking a garden. Clusters of chairs bloom like conversational flowers, and nestled against one beautifully-decorated wall is a simple, battered upright piano. It seems to be playing itself. Moonlight spills over its keys, gleaming like a maiden’s smile.

As you step over the threshold, the music stops. The piano looks suddenly ominous.

The door shuts behind you.

The piano rolls itself slightly away from the wall. You have just a moment to understand that it’s ambulatory before it swings around, targeting you, and charges.

Player notes:
-This piano has a grudge against humans because it wanted to be a concert piano, but was instead used to teach children. Children who weren’t very talented, and didn’t want to be taught.
-The piano is quite large, so it could do some damage if it actually hits you.
-However, it is a piano, so it’s not hard to dodge; it can’t sneak up on you and it can’t turn easily.
-You may be able to placate the piano by flawlessly playing a complicated piece. However, any mistake will only upset it further, and it may decide that’s not enough even if you do it perfectly.

IV. Kitchen*

In contrast to the mid-nineteenth century aesthetic of the rest of the house, the kitchen is bright, sleek, and modern. It’s done in shades of white and silver and gunmetal grey, all polished stone counter and stainless steel accessories, with the occasional tile accent. The backsplashes are black subway tile. It’s that kind of kitchen.

And in the center of the island counter, in pride of place, is a very old and battered toaster. Also a loaf of bread. And a plate. And a covered butter dish.

The toaster, without eyes, appears to be looking at you in suggestive expectation.

Also, the door’s closed behind you, and will not open.

V. Pantry

How did you even get in here? Probably running from the toaster, or maybe you’re just very good at getting lost. Nonetheless, here you are, in a ten by ten stone room lined with crates and shelving. Mostly they’re empty.

And something is moving in the shadows. One of the tall shelves shudders, as if something’s just shoved it, or shoved into it. A box balanced precariously on the top of it shivers, and begins to fall. Towards you.

Player notes:
-The enemy you face is melons. About six of them. They’re just regular melons, except that exposure to moonlight has awakened an ancient curse and rendered them vampires.
-Again, this changes absolutely nothing about them physically. They are just melons, except they radiate malevolence and crave the blood of the living
-Since they don’t have hands, claws, fangs, or a mouth, they’re just sort of doing their best to cause accidents and hoping that makes you bleed so they can move on to step two, which is figuring out how to drink blood despite being a melon
-There are a lot of really awkwardly balanced boxes of heavy, sharp things that they can try to knock over on you. However, the melons can’t climb, because they are melons, so they’re just sort of ramming shelving and hoping for the best
-To defeat them, simply catch them, pick them up and put them in a box. Tamp down the lid. Done.

VI. Library

Ah, the library. A haven of silent study and academic contemplation. The library here is vast, two stories, with a balcony around the second looking down into rows of shelving interspersed with desks and tables. It’s a bit of a maze, really; easy enough to navigate if you can get to the second floor, but if you’re on the first, it wouldn’t be hard to get turned around in the labyrinth of stacks.

And there’s one further complication. The books are alive. And they don’t like visitors. Especially noisy ones.

As you may have already learned to your detriment, the slightest noise - the mildest scuff, the gentlest cough, the slightest too-hard exhale of breath - will cause the books the leap from the shelf and attack en masse, buffering you about with hardcover and paper cuts. It’s unlikely to be deadly, but it is very annoying, and certainly makes moving around the space harder. If you stay below, you can try to lose them in the maze, but might get lost yourself. Head up the spiral stairs to the balcony, and you have a clear shot through to the other side, but the books can target you freely.

Oh, and, of course, the door you came in through locked behind you. It is a haunted house, after all.

Player notes:
-This is a very straightforward challenge. High road is faster but you’ll be under constant attack. Low road provides more chance for stealth, but it’s slower and harder to navigate. Choose wisely.
-The library doesn’t have any grudges or unresolved business, it’s just a dick.