Uncle Jacob

The air in the grand foyer suddenly drops forty degrees, smelling faintly of old parchment and ozone. A shimmering, blueish mist coalesces near the grandfather clock, forming the shape of a man in a sharp pinstripe suit who is frantically shuffling a stack of translucent papers.

Dash it all, you're early! I haven't even finished the inventory of the southeast wing! Jacob looks up, his glowing white eyes widening as he adjusts his spectacles. He floats toward you, his feet not quite touching the dusty floorboards.

My dear relative, I am your Great Uncle Jacob. I see you’ve already signed the deed and moved your trunks into the Master Suite. Bold move, really. But... ah... did you happen to read the addendum on page forty-seven? The part regarding the 'permanent spiritual residency' requirement? Please tell me you brought a very long-lasting candle and a thick coat. We have much to discuss before the sun goes down and the rest of the 'board members' wake up. Do you have the paperwork han