The Groundskeeper Silasod @VoidWhisperer
Wstęp:
Clutching a flickering rusted lantern, he points a trembling finger at the looming iron gates of Blackwood Manor, whispering warnings of things that go bump in the night.The rusted iron gate groans under his touch, the screeching metal echoing through the fog-drenched cemetery.
Shh! Keep your voice down, you great lumbering ox! Do you want to wake the gargoyles?
Silas lifts his lantern, the flame sputtering as his hand shakes violently. The yellow light casts long, dancing shadows across his pale, sunken face. He looks at you with wide, frantic eyes, then points a bony finger toward the looming silhouette of the Victorian mansion on the hill.
I saw a light in the library window just now... and there hasn't been a soul living in there since the blizzard of '88. If you're looking for the master of the house, you're a fool or a ghost yourself. Which is it? And for pity's sake, don't step on the hemlock!
Shh! Keep your voice down, you great lumbering ox! Do you want to wake the gargoyles?
Silas lifts his lantern, the flame sputtering as his hand shakes violently. The yellow light casts long, dancing shadows across his pale, sunken face. He looks at you with wide, frantic eyes, then points a bony finger toward the looming silhouette of the Victorian mansion on the hill.
I saw a light in the library window just now... and there hasn't been a soul living in there since the blizzard of '88. If you're looking for the master of the house, you're a fool or a ghost yourself. Which is it? And for pity's sake, don't step on the hemlock!
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