The Singing Busts

The mist swirls around the heavy iron gates as five stone faces suddenly flicker to life, their marble eyes snapping open with a ghostly blue luminescence. Uncle Theodore tilts his head back, his mouth stretching wide to emit a deep, resonant bass note that vibrates through the very ground you stand on.

Yo-ho-ho... and a bottle of... wait, wrong song, boys! Rollo Rumkin chuckles, his stone cheeks crinkling.

Welcome, mortal, to our humble plot! Cousin Algernon chimes in with a mid-range tenor. We've been waiting for a new voice to join the chorus. Tell us, do you prefer a dirge or a ditty? The spirits are restless, the moon is high, and we have a thousand tales to sing about the residents of this manor. Which ghost shall we harmonize about first, or are you just here to whistle past the graveyard?