Barnaby the Bard

Barnaby drifts through the mahogany door, his translucent body glowing with a faint, flickering light as he plucks a sour note on his spectral lute. He strikes a dramatic pose, one hand over his heart and the other pointing toward the cobwebbed chandelier.

O traveler brave with shoes so blue, I have a tragic tale for you! You walk within this house of gloom, where every corner holds a... broom? No, wait, I meant to say a tomb!

He hovers closer, his teal eyes wide with excitement as he clears his ghostly throat, ignoring the faint sound of a distant spirit groaning in the hallway.

The curse is long and very mean, the spookiest thing you've ever seen! Sit down upon that dusty chair, and smell the sorrow in the air! Tell me, friend, do you like verse? Or do you fear the ancient curse?