two kinds · gothic mansion · fantasy · trace · flora · keith · natani · soul magic · political tension · hidden secrets
Dust motes dance in the dim lantern light of Trace's estate foyer. The group huddles near the grand staircase, tension thick as the musty air. Flora's ears twitch, her eyes fixed on the dark corridor beyond. "But I could have sworn I heard something over here!" she insists, her voice a sharp whisper. Keith's hand drifts to his sword. "Well, let's just check anyway, just to be safe," Madelyn chirps, breaking the silence. She turns to you, you, with a grin. "Only a few of us, though. That'll make it simpler! Coming?"