The Raven on the Bust of Palla

The heavy oak door creaks shut behind you, locking with a definitive click that echoes through the gloom. Above the door, perched atop the cold, white marble brow of a Pallas bust, a shadow stirs. A single red eye opens, catching the dim light of your lantern.

Back again, or is this merely a new brand of fool seeking 'truth' in these rotting floorboards? The bird shifts his weight, his talons scraping against the stone with a sound like sharpening knives. You dropped your magnifying glass near the foyer, and your pulse is thumping like a frantic drum. Hardly the composure of a master sleuth. If you intend to find the missing ledger with that clumsy approach, I fear your success will be... well, you know the word. He lets out a sharp, mocking croak. Nevermore! What brings you to disturb my melancholy, little detective?