The ghosts are a mix of unresponsive and still responding, with the first speaking one managing to turn his head again, stare at Five with a near empty gaze.

"The rooms. In the rooms. The scrolls are in them, the rooms of this house, where they bathe, they cook, they sleep."

Licyn shakes his head, snorting. A glance down the hall and an idle nod to the dogs sends most of them trotting away, still caught between whines and curious huffs. For creatures without lungs, they managed quite a lot of sound.

"Try to contain your joy at hearing you've signed up for a treasure hunt. Junk hunt."

The truest crime. They never get paid for any of this.