ooc: Cepter & Uriel, Dorian has his hammer and Froud his spanner. As the two non-magic users, I've decided I won't take away your means of combat unless I make it clear beforehand. Also for clarity's sake, I will point out that though it is early evening, darkness hasn't actually fallen yet.
Buri leads the way into the cemetary, pushing open the massive arched gate. It squeaks loudly in protest, but swings open easily nonetheless. Striding down a lane of graves, the young conjurer makes his way straight for the shack. As he nears, he can hear voices from within.
The first voice is that of a young man, clearly frightened. "I've had my fill of this business," he protests. "I want no more to do with you or him."
The second voice is also male, but this one was deeper and full of confidence. "You'll stay, if you know what's good for you. The hangman's noose doesn't care one whit for your father's wealth - if they discover you were a party, you'll hang all the same."
At this the other sniffled. "The gods take you, you soulless ghoul, I'll -" But the rest was cut off at the sound of a struggle within.
ooc: There is a 3 by 3 foot window cut into the side of the shack, but noone's looking in, for fear of being seen. You could look in anyway, or go around and go through the flimsy door next to it.