The oaken doors that open into a grand foyer.

Hanging on the south wall of the foyer is a shield emblazoned with a coat-of-arms (a stylized golden windmill on a red field), flanked by framed portraits of the family: you see Rose and Thorn, obviously their mother and father, and then a baby that is far too small to survive. These portraits are painted and reflect the family in happiness and health, even the preemie looks well.

Mahogany-framed double doors leading from the foyer to the main hall are set with panes of stained glass.

OOC: This text assumes you have a torch or other light source with you. If you all decide you're doing darkvision then clearly I'm not doing a good job describing how scary the dark is.

Ceila wasn't using a light; her eyes, a gift from her unknown father, penetrated the gloom as she looked around, shield raised, sword at the ready.  (If another had brought light, of course, well enough.)

"All right," she said.  "This way, then."

She moved towards the double doors, stopping to get a good look at what the stained glass depicted.  An abstract design?  The family arms?  Or...

Jia lit a torch before she entered the house. She tailed Ceila with soft footsteps, noting the elegant details even amidst tragic ruin. She imagined the mahogany when it was freshly carved. The painting showed a healthy family in happier times. The children’s faces in their portraits were well-fed, clean, not the tear-stained moppets she met in the woods.

As Jia examined the portrait, she checked Thorn’s painting for a sign of the eerie doll his ghost carried in the woods. Then, she moved over beside Ceila. She also took an interest in the stained glass, noting the craftsmanship and looking for a story it may have told.

The artist was thoughtful enough not to include any dolls.

The stained glass reflects the torchlight joyously. Pretty colors reflect into the foyer And oil lamps on the wall stretch themselves, hoping you will light them.

Despite having the ability to see in the dark, Caedwen finds it of comfort to continue carrying his small ball of flame; a reminder of the benefits of fire, along with the destructive potential.  The light flickers and brings a small touch of warmth to the otherwise cold, empty house.  He walks the foyer, not straying too far from his companions.  And he begins lighting the oil lamps as he nears.

"This place brings to mind those forgotten places I have seen, and those I have avoided.  There are memories here, and if the children are any indication... powerful memories.  What monster could lurk in such a cold, silent place?"  His voice, despite being but a whisper, runs its course through the house, a testament to how truly silent it was.

"I don't like the looks of it," said Ceila.  "Not inclined to trust anything here..."

She attempted to open the doors with her foot for that very reason, although she'd fall back on her gloved hand if she must.

“We walk a world that has given us little reason to trust it.” Jun Jia looked the foyer over, but still could make out very little among the shadows. “We have even less reason to trust this house.”

OOC:

16:57, Today: Jun Jia rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  Perception check.

"'Tis just a house.  Fear what lurks within, and without.  But fear not this collection of lumber.  And be ready.  I worry we'd have heard something in here if it were unaware of us.  The silence is deafening."  Caedwen speaks quietly, and lays a hand on a piece of wood, fingers tracing the grain and searching for any imperfections.  After all, what was wood if not perfectly imperfect?  This form, this construction, was no longer wood, but rather wooden.  There was a distinction, if only in his mind.

“Coming events cast their shadows before them,” Jia said softly. The petite woman gave Caedwen a slight nod as she carried the torch to a corner of the foyer. She would wait for the entire group before she explored the first floor any further.