As Jim looks around the room, the flickering light of the lighter doesn't reveal anything new. Everyone looks around the room, but nothing new is found.

"Hmmm, it seems alright.....Did you see the room where the 'rituals' took place? We might want to go there to see what happened to the poor old man."

OOC: Could someone tell me what the hell has happened? Assuming he isn't out adventuring, my guy will be digging up old records and stuff from the university, describing the writing to the prof, or he'll be tackling the legal side of this finding out about the deaths, the registrations, and all that stuff, in an attempt to find names.

All of you head back into the second room, and in the flickering firelight look around again. You carefully examine the room, but the firelight is limited, and no one discovers anything else, except a partially hidden staircase down to the basement of the small house.

Something made the back of Gabriel's neck wrythe. A shiver went up his spine.

"Uh, considering the fact that there is a hidden staircase leading into a, I would presume, 'hidden' cellar where an unspeakable terror may or may not have been unleashed, I would suggest getting a better light source - maybe making a torch - and seeing if everything is actually tip top up here before we desecend into ... a pit of ..."

Adjectives failed him.

Clara sighed, "I wonder how the others are doing..." She mused outloud, then looked over at David, "Do you believe what Merriweather told us? It seems a little far fetched, doesn't it?" She chuckled, but she couldn't help but believe there was at least a little truth in the dying man's stories.

"D-don't w-worry. We'll b-be fine...." Jim broke off a piece of wood from a wall and put it into the fire until it became a torch. "N-now l-let's g-go down.....Y-you first..." Jim's hand shook mildly as he handed Gabriel the torch. "Go ahead." The doctor bent down and picked up a rifle, just in case.

Gabriel didn't enjoy the thought of going down into the 'hidden' cellar. If he was a character in one of his books, he would probably end up mincemeat, or decapitated, or impaled on a pitchfork or ...

"You have the damb gun. Why don't you go first?!" He whispered through his teeth. His grip on the torch tightened. Beads of sweat formed at his temples.

"Well, YOU have the torch! I can't hold this gun with one hand!"

OOC: Isn't it spelled "damn"?

OOC: Maybe his grammer is slipping... Anyway, who is going first?