Only one road provided access to the region: a long and winding track that became increasingly overgrown the further it stretched from Kintargo, the capital of Ravounel. As the travelers rounded the final corner to take in the sight of the long-abandoned settlement, a partially collapsed sign proclaimed the site to be "Crook Cove." The town's buildings had largely collapsed into rubble. Half-collapsed pilings of wood jutted from the surf, all that remained of many of the structures that once graced the shoreline.

None could miss the lone surviving building that stood within a clearing atop an otherwise wooded bluff overlooking the town to the northeast. Surrounded by a rusty iron fence, this manor was built so many years ago by Ioseff Xarwin, and among the town's buildings, it alone had stood the test of time. A short additional walk up the hill along a barely0discernible track lead the party to the front gates of the manor grounds.

The overgrown road came to an end at a pair of rusty, wrought-iron gates flanked by two stone pillars. Beyond, the woodlands receded before a large clearing of tall, dry grass, at the center of which loomed Xarwin Manor. The building's roofline rose in the middle to a third level surrounded by a walkway, while the closed dome of what appeared to be an observatory rose above. Slate shingles covered the steeply-slanted roofs below this central dome with more rusty ironwork adorning its eaves. The paint along the manor's wooden walls had mostly peeled away, leaving behind a weathered building clad in creeping vines that looked forgotten by the world. Even at a distance, the building's facade seemed unusually... moist, as if it had just weathered torrential downpour despite the dryness of the surrounding grounds.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:44, Fri 08 Oct 2021.

As the party reached the grounds, they encountered their first obstacle. A minor setback, and surely one that did not foreshadow more problems to come.

Swaths of moist green moss grew on the stone pillars that flanked this rusty wrought iron gate. Tangles of blackberry vines wove through the gate's bars. A rust metal coat of arms comprised of a series of overlapping circles, rings, and stars adorned the front of the gate.


There was no actual lock, but the tangle of vines held it closed. If the party wished to enter, they'd need to cut the vines, force their way through, or find another way in. Climbing over looked doable, but the rusty spikes at the top didn't look friendly to a misstep.

He took in the gate with mild disappointment. The research had told them of the basics of what to expect but it had been impossible to stop himself from envisioning a glorious welcome from the, nonexistent, townspeople and heroes welcome to the inherited manor. Instead, well, he thought he might have seen a raven circling on the way up. At least it wasn't a harpy he considered, trying to cheer himself.
He gave the iron gates an experimental push before pulling out a knife. "No time like the present to start trimming the hedges as it were." He declares jovially. With his intent stated he starts hacking back the barrier.

Booker examined the barrier as Saoirse began his very rough version of gardening. "There might be a better way." He drew his sword, and spoke a few words while carving a symbol in the air with the blade. The symbol became visible, a burning word hanging in space. Only for that fire coat the blade. "I shall try very hard not to burn the place down..." He said, touching the vines briefly just to cause minimal fires.