Play@YSDC

Before the investigators leave, Carson warns the group again. Much more is at stake than the life of a child, even though the investigators may not yet understand it.
When the darkness falls on the small town, the group goes to the villa. All the inhabitants of the town disappear from the streets and retreat to their homes. The whole village sinks into darkness and torpor, like simple life forms naturally tuning their activities to the daily cycle.

The Anderson mansion is a brick made structure, whose proportion is symmetrical, with the ground floor block augmented by wings. A mixture of clapboards and shingle cladding was used for construction. The corners of the house were decorated with wooden quoins to imitate stone.
The mansion must have been majestic in the past, but now it is nothing but an abandoned ruin. A room of the upper floor has collapsed, and a pile of rubbles stands at its place. It is located frontally and on the right of the upper floor.
The grass grew high in the front yard. Climbing plants have grown on the walls, many windows are broken and some shingle lacking on the roof. The whole structure seem to lose pieces in several points, even if doesn´t seem about to collapse.
All the windows of the second floor and many on the ground floor are shuttered with wooden planks. The windows and the grand door at the entryway resamble the face of a dead soul staring at the group.

"If he's in there, they've probably got him in the basement or wine cellar," says Kathryn. "He was being kept below ground in Darcy's house before. If there are tunnels connecting the mansion to other places, they'll be underground too. Shall we enter through the front door, or should we circle the mansion and look for another way in?"

“Compared to the other piles on this god forsaken island, this place is positively palatial,” Ivy sniffs.

“I think it best if we take a look around before we go knocking on the front door.”

She will begin poking around.

Kathryn nods. "Let's circle around the place then and get a good look," says Kathryn.

The house side yard is similar to the front yard, covered in tall grass.
The backyard has a pond, more or less circular, whose diameter is about ten yards. The soil around the pond’s perimeter is sandy and humid, and there are many footprints overlapping each other.
The footprints are somewhat confused, as they go in two direction, towards and away from the pond. However, one can clearly distinguish palmed paw, adult shoes and child shoes prints. The footprints disappears a few inches away from the pond, where the ground is dry. The waters are still and the soil beyond the pond hosts the same kind of tall grasses in the front yard. A tiny stream coming down from the hill, passes between the grasses and ends in the pond.

At the back of the backyard is a small wooden hut. Some material for masonry work is accumulated inside the hut; a pickaxe, a hammer, a chisel, a shovel, a ladder, three bags of cement and some bricks.

"The child-sized prints must be Timothy's," says Kathryn. "I guess he likes swimming, since he's part sea creature. If we follow the prints away from the pond, they should lead us to him, probably inside the mansion."

Ivy nods grimly, steeling herself for the task ahead.

"Agreed."

Michael doesn't like the looks of this. "I can swim about as well as a stone,"he whispers. "If any one of you bathing beauties want to wade inside, be my guest. I'll stand guard out here."

There footprints only close to the perimeter of the pond, where the earth is wet and without grass. The rest of the garden is covered with tall grass, which prevents the formation of footprints leading anywhere.

"I don't think any of us should go in the water," says Kathryn. "I don't think he's in there now, or he wouldn't be able to breathe. He must have gone back to the mansion, but he didn't leave any prints in the tall grass. I think we should enter the mansion through the back."

“Well don’t expect me to get my feet wet!” Ivy snorts.

“I wonder... If we could find a fishing net large enough, we could cover up the pond and catch anything trying to get out of it.”

Previously said:   If we could find a fishing net large enough

No fishing net was found in the garden and in the rooms described below.

The backdoor of the house opens to the kitchen. The kitchen comuicates with other three smaller rooms of the ground floor. The four make up a part of the house thought for the preparation and storage of food. The kitchen has a wood oven full of ash connected to a chimney, which goes out through the ceiling. A big empty cauldron lies on a cooking place. Lures and fish skin remains are spread all over the floor. Fragments of old plaster lie damp over the floor. Water seeped through the rotten and blistered window frames, so to feed the mildew and detach the papers from the wall. The cupboards are of long forgotten manufacturing, which would barely live in the lost memories the elders. There are crumbs all over the table and dirty dishes sitting on the floor.

The larder was used for food storage, the larder. As the door opens, a myriad of cockroaches escape inside a crack in the wall, when the light enters the room. Here are shelves filled with jar of spices. Big empty bags are on the floor, and some grains of wheat and rice are spread everywhere on the ground.
The scullery was the preparation room, it has two sinks for cleaning food and washing the pots. Many pans and pots are stacked inside one of the sinks.

The fourth room served as an accommodation for the housekeeper. This room has a bed, a wardrobe and a sewing machine set on a small table, and many pieces of fabrics scattered everywhere. Inside the wardrobes are some objects: earrings, combs, an empty purse and a small portrait photograph of a young woman. The person in the picture is the mother of Jason Carson. There are also some daily lists of jobs to be accomplished, including cooking, cleaning and embroidering.

The southwest wall of the kitchen has a closed door that leads to the other rooms of the house.

Kathryn takes out her revolver and tiptoes over to the door, putting her ear to it to see if she can hear anything on the other side and peeking through the keyhole if there is one.

OOC,Listen roll (55% skill) at the door: [dice]0[/dice]

Ivy stands close by, ready to assist if anything untoward happens.

Michael peeks inside the back door. Looks like the joint's deserted, or else somebody is a real lousy housekeeper, he muses. He readies his pistol, leans in the back door without yet stepping inside -- his bulky frame is likely to set the floorboards creaking -- and aims the weapon in the direction of the door leading to the rest of the house.

As the investigators walk toward the door, they hear noises coming from beyond. These are slight noises, as if something small, like a group of rodents, were moving on the floor. The noises ends anytime the group stops its movements and everybody stands still.

Kathryn puts a finger to her lips. "It sounds like rats are in there," she whispers.

Rats! Michael hates the little so-and-so's, ever since he saw them attacking kids in the slums of Boston when he was just a tyke. Filthy little monsters. He slowly approaches the door as quietly as he can, which isn't saying much. He gestures with his pistol for Kathryn to open the door, getting ready to blast them away.

Ivy lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, let's blast our way in and let everyone know we're here, hm? If they're rats then a flashlight should be enough to scare them away. Kathryn, when you open the door, I'll shine my light in. Michael, you can stand by with your firearm, just in case they aren't rats."

The noises of the movements have something strange. They are well synchronized with the group's steps, as if they perceived every slightest vibration. As soon as they open the door, the investigators have a dark room in front of them. The only light comes from the room where the group is and is partly blocked by their bodies standing at the doorstep.. However, enough light beats on the floor of the new room for them to see that they are not rats. On the floor are small piles of brown muddy matter that is difficult to identify as something already known. Before the group opened the door, the things were moving driven by a mysterious intelligence, to gather towards something bigger. As the light bursts into the room, things back off, and disperse rapidly towards the corners of the room