Into the Woods


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Bimpnott follows his friend Albrecht, looking around but often watching the shady elf form to be sure it doesn't sneak up on him.
 

Just as Albrecht walks through the room, the glass chandelier crashes to the floor, narrowly missing the dwarf and sending shards flying. A second earlier and he would have been hit. Looking above, the chain swings lazily back and forth.
 

Albrecht scuffs his boots on the ground, kicking some of the loose glass away.

"You all okay?" he asks, looking at Bimpnott. He turns back to the front door to ensure his rock is still in place.
 

Bimpnott nods, then looks back at the others.

”Careless neglect, section 23 dash B,” he drones out of habit.
 

As you step up into the dining room from the sunken tea room, the air grows warmer.
Suddenly the room comes to life, as partly-formed ghostly apparitions appear seated at the once empty table. A large dinner party is being held it seems, as a roasted hog materializes, along with plates of all varieties of food. Jugs of foaming ale and glasses of wine are being shared between ghostly companions.
A large spectral human man stands at the head of the table, saying nothing. A serious scowl and frown is cemented over his face as he overlooks his guests who seem to be enjoying themselves.
On the other end of the room, you can make out a set of double doors opposite the stairway and a separate door on the wall adjacent to the double doors.
 

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Albrecht makes some shapes with his fingers, as if he were folding origami. Before the stern figure at the head of the table appears a present, with an elaborately folded ribbon on top.

The pattern on the paper is not consistent, however, and runs together on one side of the apparent box, as if left ot in the rain.

Albrecht shrugs. "Party favours," he suggests.

"We're looking for someone. Do you mind if we pass through?" he asks, pointing at the doors at the other end.

OOC: Minor illusion, DC 9 to create a present on the table.
 

"Make sure to ask about the defective chandelier," Bimpnott whispers as he tensely waits for the ghosts' reaction. The firbolg holds his sword down but is ready to use it should any hostility present itself.
 

The man seems not to notice the hastily formed present that appears on the table in front of him.
We're looking for someone. Do you mind if we pass through?
The room abruptly becomes quiet, all talking and laughter has ceased. Every apparition in the room turns and is now facing you when the man at the head of the table rushes toward you, floating right through the hard wooden dining table. “You should not be here! LEAVE THIS PLACE!!!!” He screams as he rushes closer.
Then as quickly as the party had started, the room is empty and cold again. The ghosts are nowhere to be seen, and there is no sign of the man who had rushed at you.
 

"Wh...w...what just happened!? And why are we even talking to those shades?!"
 
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