Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-26288702-20180515015136

Armata strides toward the fireplace. He extends his hands, then stops. He looks to the ceiling, his eyes are full of attention and quandary.

“We are not alone...”

The group can hear it, footsteps. Upstairs, someone paces back and forth. Settled dust on the floor boards fall with each step above. Armata leaves the warmth of the hearth and approaches the stairs.

“That aura. That scent. An Unseen?”