The sound of a creature approaching the pit. Creature snarls. Something hits the ground. Arthur wakes, groaning.
Arthur gasps and scampers forward
Arthur: Oh, thank god. Did they…?
John: No. The bucket’s still empty.
Arthur: What? God dammit...
He kicks the bucket over
John: Conserve your energy, Arthur.
Arthur: For what, John!
John: For finding a way out!
Main piano theme plays
Arthur: I know, I know. Fine, fine.
Arthur catches his breath and takes up the food.
Arthur: What is it?
John: I don’t know; meat of some kind.
John: Arthur, yesterday we talked about piling dirt at the side of the pit, and using that as a ramp. I think we should just start.
Arthur: I can’t pull dirt from the wall — it’s too hard. I’d break my fingers before pulling anything of any note.
John: I understand,
John: But if we—
Arthur: What is this? It doesn’t feel like anything…
John: It looks like… a leg.
Arthur: It’s raw! Jesus…
John: He’s trying to break you.
Arthur makes a pained sound, but gathers himself.
Arthur: [Determined] Let him try.
He bites into the raw meat. An eerie transition - it’s raining, and thunder rumbles. Arthur wakes up.
Yellow: Arthur! Thank god.
Arthur: Where are we? [Yawning] What happened?
Yellow: Larson, Arthur!
Yellow: Larson! The ram-headed giant that had searched our room. He was there last—
Arthur: Okay, okay. Calm down. We’re alive. [Yellow huffs] Where are we now?
Yellow: I have no idea!
Arthur: Let’s just… Why are we in bed? Wh-where are our clothes?
Yellow: I don’t know. As far as I can tell we’re in a small, well-decorated room. Its walls are dark wood and almost entirely filled with books. Shelves that are built into the walls. It’s difficult to see much of anything else. Everything here is dark, very dark. There’s a large window to the left of us. The only light is coming from the night sky outside, through flashes of lightning.
Arthur: In a snowstorm?
Yellow: It’s raining.
Arthur: I can hear it but It’s bloody freezing.
Arthur climbs out of bed
Arthur: What’s outside?
Yellow: Just wait. I’m waiting for…
Thunder. Eerie piano music plays
Yellow: Jesus! We’re up high… in the mountain!
Arthur: The Larson Estate.
Yellow: Why did they bring you here?
Arthur: That thing… that invisible creature! Where are our things?
Yellow: I don’t know. There’s a high back chair opposite the bed. Maybe there.
Yellow: This room is ornate. The shelves are dotted with objects: balls of coloured glass, feathers, carved wooden trinkets…
Arthur: Focus on my clothes.
Yellow: Yes. I think, maybe, your clothes are laid out here. Again, it’s tough to see. I can only read the room in frozen moments as the lightning bathes the room in a sharp blue light.
Arthur: Okay okay. [Feeling around] Our bag?
Yellow: Under the window, I think.
Arthur: What about the door?
Yellow: I think it’s in the far corner, opposite the bed. It’s an elegant spread, Arthur: thick white pillows and warm sheets.
Yellow: You told me to be descriptive.
Arthur: Okay, okay. [Pauses] Wait, what’s that? What is that?
Yellow: What’s what? [A pause] What’s what?
Arthur: No, no, no listen, listen. What’s that?
A woman crying
Yellow: It’s coming from the floor.
Arthur: The… what?
Arthur crawls. The crying gets louder
Yellow: It’s louder to the left.
Arthur: A vent. I can hear it — listen.
Yellow: What is that?
A woman crying
Arthur: Is that crying?
Eerie violins play
Yellow: Someone’s coming!
Yellow: Get back into bed! Now!
Arthur climbs back into bed. Approaching footsteps. Someone knocks on the door.
The door opens
Yellow: There’s a man. I can only see his silhouette. There’s a light behind him.
Man: Are you awake?
Yellow: Arthur, the man is moving into the room. He’s taking a seat in the chair beside your bed. The light! The light is being held by the creature we saw at the Inn, the ram’s-headed Larson.
Man: Will the light hurt your eyes? Do you mind?
Yellow: The man is lighting a lamp next to him at the side table under the window.
Gentle piano music plays
[Surprised] It's a young man, in a three piece suit. Maybe your age. He wears round glasses, his hair parted neatly, a bow tie under his chin.
Man: I apologize for the fright. You must be awfully confused.
Arthur: You could say that.
Yellow: A seemingly sincere smile spreads on his thin lips. His eyes seem… kind.
Man: My name is Larson.
Arthur: You? Y-You couldn’t be…
Larson: You seem surprised.
Arthur: I had expected Larson to be much older, given the date of the mines...
Larson: Oh no, that honour would be to my grandfather, Wallace. I’m afraid he’s long since passed.
Yellow: Wallace Larson?
Man: Yes, I’m his grandson, Andrew Larson.
Arthur: Oh… Well that makes more sense.
Larson: I should say! How old did you think I was? [Chuckles] You must be Arthur.
Arthur: Yes. How did you…
Larson: Uncle paid a visit to you in town. Seems you missed each other.
Eerie piano music plays
Yellow: The large, ram-like creature in the door is staring at us in the flickering firelight. Its cold, empty eyes reflecting the flame as it moves with each breath.
Arthur: I’m afraid we did.
Larson: I do wish to apologize for his appearance. Iit can be off putting to some. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t aware of his… tendency to poke around. We’ve had some nosy neighbours recently and I think uncle was worried you may be here to make another offer.
Arthur: A-An offer?
Larson: To buy the mine. But I gather that’s not your purview.
Arthur: Not as such.
Larson: So tell me, what does bring you here, Arthur?
Arthur: I… I’m afraid not much, Mr. Larson. Truth be told, I found myself here by a bit of bad luck and I’m only trying to get home.
Piano transitions to main theme
Larson: Where might home be?
Arthur: Arkham, at least for now.
Yellow: He seems to relax; a nervousness washes out of his posture. I think part of him was worried about you.
Larson: I know it well — I have a place there myself.
Larson: Yes, Mr. Lester. Addison is a secretive town but whatever stories you may have heard about us or this place tend to be fabricated by and large. I want you to know that.
Arthur: What stories may that be?
Yellow: He paused, as if considering his words.
Larson: My grandfather was a great man, but… not without his flaws. This mine made our family.
Arthur: Then why close it while it still was profitable?
Yellow: His eyes tightened. A smile curls upon his lip.
Larson: What is it you do?
Arthur: Private investigator.
Larson: Ha! I’d say you do a damn good job, too. I won’t beat around the bush Arthur Lester. Uncle brought you here because he knows what you saw. I know what you saw. Or rather, what you didn’t see.
Eerie violin stinger
Arthur: Well… What do you intend to do about it?
Larson: Do about it?
Yellow: He looks confused.
Larson: Arthur I’m afraid there’s been a miscommunication. I don’t offer a warm bed and – what will hopefully be a hot meal – to people I intend to... I don’t know… hurt.
Arthur: What do you do?
Larson: Arthur, I’m an accountant, in Arkham! And part of a long line of family members cursed with this terrible truth.
Arthur: What truth is that?
Larson: [Sigh] My grandfather, many years ago now, awakened something in the mines. Something that existed long before us. Something that lived deep and ancient in the earth. It awoke and terrorized this town. You’ve been around it. You know what it's capable of.
Larson: Up until recently it was successfully hunkered away, sealed within the confines of the mine. Then that damn surveyor came, and… well, the town isn’t safe. Uncle knew it wasn’t safe for you out there anyway.
Yellow: The Larsons are protecting the town?
Simplified piano theme plays
Arthur: You’re trying to help?
Larson: Of course! This town is everything to us. It exists because of our actions; we owe them safety at the very least.
Larson: I’m sorry to dump this all on you; this isn’t your issue. I’ve only been called back myself to deal with this.
Arthur: No, that’s fine. Thank you, thank you for rescuing me. Giving me a place to stay.
Yellow: Tell him we need to leave!
Arthur: Look, I hate to burden you with more but, the truth of the matter is, I… I need to get back to Arkham. This isn’t my town, this isn’t my… [Sigh]… Sorry, I was about to say ‘problem.’
Larson: You’re right, it’s not your problem, and it shouldn’t be. Arthur, don’t feel ashamed of knowing what you want — something I learned many years ago. Truth is this matter is more complicated than I thought.
Arthur: That’s… fair.
Larson: No, it isn’t. [He stands] But it means I have to return to Arkham tomorrow morning. If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a ride.
Arthur: A ride! Of course, yes, please!
Theme transitions to Faroe’s Waltz
Larson: I’d be happy to have the company.
Arthur: Thank you, Mr. Larson.
Yellow: [Excited] Arthur, we fucking did it!
Larson: Get some sleep, try not to mind the storm too much. The freezing rain is a welcome change to the falling snow – seems like winter’s finally easing its grip.
Arthur: Of course, of course. And again, please, thank your family for letting me stay.
Larson: Oh he don’t need no more thanks.
Arthur: Sorry, I-I meant the others.
Arthur: Your wife?
Arthur: Or sister, sorry? I… I heard someone crying. Sounded like a woman.
Larson: Did it.
Eerie violins. Uncle’s heavy breathing.
Larson: I’m afraid you were mistaken. Sleep well, Arthur Lester.
He leaves the room.
Yellow: Arthur, this is fantastic! Straight to Arkham. I wonder if he could help us find Anna Stanczyk. If the Larson’s are as well connected as they seem, I imagine…
Arthur: We’re not waiting till morning.
Eerie violins resume
Arthur: We’re leaving. Now.
Arthur climbs out of bed
Yellow: Arthur what the fuck is wrong with you?
Arthur: We are going to die if we stay here.
Arthur starts pulling on clothes
Yellow: Are you insane? Why would he keep us alive? Why would he clean our fucking clothes? Stop getting dressed! Answer me!
Arthur: He wanted to question us, Yellow. He needed to know what we knew. He didn’t ask about where our clothes came from or where we lived...
Yellow: Then why didn’t you fucking lie!
Music cuts out
Arthur: We’re dead either way. I’d rather he know what he’s up against.
Yellow: Jesus fucking Christ, Arthur. Where are we going to go?
Arthur: I don’t know. But we…
Yellow: Shhh! Wait, listen… The vent.
Arthur moves to the vent. The woman is crying. A door opens, heavy foot steps and Uncle breathing. A wet CRUNCH. The woman silences. Uncle’s footsteps fade.
Arthur: Oh my god.
Yellow: Who was that?
Arthur: I don’t know, but we’re leaving now.
Yellow: The gun is gone.
Arthur: Yes I assumed as much — where’s the door?
Footsteps. Door opens
Yellow: It’s a pitch black hallway. We must be on the second floor. The red carpet runs the length – a large window flashes to our left, while to the right it turns towards the left further down. I don’t know — which way?
Yellow: You’re sure? Why?
Arthur: I don’t know, but we need to move. Now.
Eerie music plays
Yellow: Close it, quietly.
Door creaks shut.
Arthur: Do you see them?
Yellow: No, nothing.
Arthur: Quickly then.
Yellow: The hallway stretches on, all the way to the window. But the window at the far end isn’t… [Frustrated] It’s dark, Arthur. I can barely see anything.
Arthur: Okay. Okay — it’s fine. We’ll wait.
They wait. Thunder
Yellow: There! I can see a door. It’s a fair bit down on our left side. This hallway is massive. There’s a banister to our right that looks over the front foyer. There’s a low bulkhead above it that gives this area a closed-in feeling.
Arthur: Do you see the stairs down?
Yellow: No. I can barely see forward.
Yellow: Stop. We need to wait for light again.
Arthur: Come on... Come on...
Yellow: There! Keep moving, toward the door.
Yellow: A little more… Damn it! The light is gone again. Pull out the lighter, we can—
Arthur: No, no. The darkness is helping us as much as it is hindering us. If we can’t see...
Yellow: Hopefully they can’t see us.
Arthur: Exactly. Let’s just wait for the lightning.
Yellow: Fuck! It’s a… it’s a suit of armor.
Arthur: [Sighs] Jesus Christ, Yellow.
Yellow: The door is just to our left. Hurry.
Yellow: Right here!
Arthur: Where? I can’t see, you have to fucking tell me!
Yellow: Lower! Another step — there!
Arthur strains against the lock
Arthur: Is it… it feels locked! It’s… stiff or something.
Arthur: I’m trying!
Yellow: Arthur. There’s something moving at the far end of the hallway. From where we came!
Arthur struggles with the door
Yellow: Open the fucking door, Arthur!
Arthur: I’m trying, I’m trying! [Struggles] There!
Yellow: Step back.
Arthur: Listen! Listen!
Footsteps approach the door they left. Heaving breathing. The footsteps move on.
Yellow: I think we’ve avoided him.
Arthur: Where are we?
Yellow: I don’t know… just…
Yellow: It looks like another room — another guest room. There are two large windows, dressed with dark curtains – the colour of which I’m not sure. There’s a large painting above a cold fireplace to our left. A bank of shelves under the windows across from us, and a four-poster bed.
Main piano theme plays
Arthur: Anything…Anything that seems out of place, or…?
Yellow: The painting, it looked… like Larson, maybe Wallace. The room is black once again.
Arthur: Alright, alright.
Yellow: What the fuck are we going to do!
Arthur: I don’t know yet. We’ll find a way down to the foyer, or… out a window, maybe. They can’t keep us here, it’s just a house.
Yellow: The person in the vent didn’t seem to have a way out.
Arthur: I know, I know, I know.
Yellow: There’s someone in this room with us!
Yellow: They’re laying in the bed.
Yellow: I think they’re… I think it’s a body.
Yellow: [Panicked] What the fuck! What the fuck!
Yellow: The body is… dead, dry, leathery. Its skin blackened. Arthur, this body has been here for... I don’t know how long!
Arthur: My god… What the hell are they doing in…?
Yellow: Is this Wallace?
Arthur: I guess…?
Arthur: Alright the door was… stuck. This room is... occupied, in-in some way. Uncle didn’t come in. I-I think we’re safe here for a moment. Let me just… let me just catch my breath.
Yellow: We need to consider our options.
Yellow: Jesus, this body, it’s… shriveled, small-looking. Frail.
Arthur: Déjà vu.
Arthur: Déjà vu…I’ve…I’ve been here before, a moment like this. With… not you.
Yellow: But it was me… in a way.
Arthur: [Sigh] John.
Yellow: He was different than me.
Arthur: I don’t know… maybe. How different, I-I-I don’t know.
Yellow: What made you… friendly… with him?
Hopeful piano music
Arthur: What do you mean?
Yellow: What made you… like his companionship.
Arthur: [Scoffs] I… I don’t know… I don’t know if I always did, but I guess strife sometimes brings people closer together.
Arthur: Yes, difficulty. We had to overcome a lot together.
Yellow: Like what?
Arthur: [Scoffs] Well, we once had to… well, fight a creature that was double my size and triple my weight, I’d wager. A massive creature, completely relentless, and… the odds were not in our favour.
Yellow: But you beat it?
Arthur: Yes. We made a pretty great team.
Arthur: My leg, it’s… stiff. I hurt it quite badly, but… I wonder how long we’ve been sleeping? I’ve been sleeping.
Yellow: It’s better?
Arthur: Yes… much… M-Maybe I only sprained it, I...
Yellow: I apologize for… for blaming you.
Faroe’s lullaby plays
Yellow: Before you passed out, in the snow by the mountainside.
Yellow: You said you were sorry, and I said you… I said you should be. I’m sorry about that. I was angry, I reacted poorly.
Arthur: I know the type.
Yellow: Anyway, this body is long since dead.
Yellow: Wait, there’s something around his neck: a medallion of sorts.
Arthur: A medallion?
Yellow: With a star… sort of.
Arthur: I wonder if we should take it.
Arthur: I don’t know. It seems important.
Yellow: Well I doubt he’s using it.
Arthur touches - a rush of eerie magic
Yellow: Jesus! Oh my god!
Yellow: What the fuck… [Growling]
Arthur: I touched him!
Yellow: What is this?
Arthur: Tell me what you see!
Yellow: I see… Andrew! He’s standing over the man in the bed. He’s kissing his forehead compassionately. He’s smiling and stroking the old man’s face. He’s…he’s telling him they’ll be together again, that the Fallen Star will succeed… Arthur let go!
Magic cuts out
Yellow: What the fuck was that!?
Arthur: That was how this man died, or at least the moments leading up to it.
Arthur: I’m sorry, I… I completely forgot! Was there anything else you saw, anything important?
Yellow: No! For fuck’s sake. Why didn’t you let go?
Yellow: Arthur! Put the medallion in the bag, we need to get out of here.
Arthur: Where the fuck are we supposed to go? Back out into the hallway?
Yellow: No, he’s coming! Under the bed!
Arthur: Wait, wait. Does the window open?
Yellow: Yes, I think so.
Arthur: Open it — we need to open it. Head out there.
Yellow: You want to go out the fucking window? It’s freezing! If we go outside, we’ll freeze.
Arthur: Freeze or not… I’d rather try my luck moving away from a freight train than hiding. At least not again.
Arthur: Where’s the window?
Yellow: God dammit, Arthur!
Yellow: To your right. The latch to open it is a little ways up. You can stand on the...
Arthur: What is this?
Yellow: It’s a stool — get up on it.
Arthur climbs on the stool
Arthur: Ugh, it’s tall…
Yellow: A little more. Hurry!
Window opens. It’s pouring rain outside.
Yellow: Jesus, Arthur! We’re far above the trees below. This mansion is perched on the mountainside, overlooking the town and surrounding forest, as if it were to watch over...
Arthur: That’s okay!
Yellow: There’s a ledge!
Yellow: It’s only a foot or two wide, maybe less.
Arthur: Okay, okay.
Arthur steps out, panting fearfully
Arthur: Oh Jesus. Fucking Christ, fuck. Okay, okay.
Yellow: Steady yourself!
Arthur: I’m trying, I’m trying! Which way?
Yellow: The ledge runs the length of the wall.
Arthur: Right! We’ll head right. I don’t want to end up back in our room.
Yellow: Quickly Arthur! He’s almost through the door.
Arthur: We need to shut the window, quickly!
Yellow: Lower! There!
Arthur shuts the window. Breathing hard. Heavy footsteps inside.
Yellow: He’s through the door! He can’t see us. He’s looking around the room. It’s the Uncle, he’s approaching the body cautiously… He’s checking under the bed.
Arthur: No shit.
Yellow: Wait! Go back!
Arthur: I’m not gonna risk our lives climbing out the window only to be spotted watching him!
Yellow: [Sigh] Okay, fine. Arthur, keep hugging the wall. Just… I guess… shuffle side to side…
Arthur: I have this, just… Just tell me if there’s anything of note: a chipped ledge, or...
Yellow: Arthur... It is so far below. If we fall, there’s no...
Arthur: Not one of the times I need descriptions, Yellow. Focus on the wall, goddammit!
Yellow: Maybe if you fear falling you’ll focus!
Arthur: What? Shut the fuck up!
Yellow: I… It’s dark Arthur, not much lighter than in the hallway. Let’s wait for the lightning.
Arthur: I can feel…
Yellow: Just wait.
Yellow: There’s a large, stone figure here. Its clawed feet are gripping the ledge tightly; you’ll need to step over them.
Yellow: Be careful, though. The stone, it looks cracked. It’s…
Arthur: Just tell me when I can put my foot down.
Arthur breathing hard
Yellow: More… Left… A little more... Okay, slowly down…
Yellow: It’s difficult to see! Not there.
Yellow: Oh… yes, there.
Yellow: You’re shaking.
Arthur: No shit. It’s freezing. I can feel it soaking through my clothes.
Yellow: Stop. You’re gonna lose your grip.
Yellow: Arthur, we’re coming to a corner.
Yellow: The ledge, it… it doesn’t wrap around the corner!
Yellow: You’ll need to make a fairly large step to catch the other side.
Arthur: Are you fucking kidding me?
Yellow: If we go back the other way, into the room we started, we could hide…
Arthur: No... I can, I can do this.
Yellow: You better hope so.
Yellow: You’ll need to swing your left leg out and to the side, around the corner a little, but… I think you’ll need to jump, essentially, sideways, to land.
Arthur laughs anxiously. Melancholy piano music.
Arthur: Jesus Christ.
Yellow: You’re sure you want to do this? We can head back.
Arthur: I’ve come so far.
Arthur takes a deep breath. Distantly, a woman’s voice says, “Goodbye.”
And I’ve got miles to go before I sleep.
He jumps — lands with a grunt
Yellow: Jesus Arthur! Your… your foot! It’s on the other ledge. You fucking did it! I didn’t even…
Yellow: Holy hell...
Yellow: How did you...
Arthur: How far? Is there another window?
Yellow: Yes, yes! Keep going.
Yellow: It’s clear till the window.
Yellow: Here, Arthur — stop. [Arthur pants, shuddering with cold] It’s the window at the end of the hallway, the one we were moving toward.
Arthur: Does it open?
Yellow: Yes, same as the other. But the… it’s latched from the inside.
Yellow: Maybe we can try another window, further down. There might be a—
Arthur: Wait, wait! Is there a gap between the windows?
Yellow: Yes, but it’s small.
Arthur: The straight razor in the bag — the one from the shaving kit. Would it through the window gap?
Arthur strains while pawing through the bag
Yellow: Careful, Arthur. You’re only holding on with one hand...
Arthur: Y-Yes, yes yes... [Groans]
Yellow: There, that’s the kit.
Arthur struggles to get the razor out
Yellow: Yes! Arthur, I think this will work!
Arthur: Is it clear?
Arthur: The hallway, is it clear?
Yellow: Yes. I don’t see anyone — Andrew or the Uncle.
Arthur: Okay... Okay…
Sliding blade. Window unlatches.
Window swings open
Yellow: Careful now, there’s a table under the window.
Arthur climbs inside, breathing hard
Yellow: Arthur, you fucking did it!
Arthur: Quickly, we need to close the window!
Yellow: Right! A little higher. There.
Yellow: There’s a door to our right, just next to the window.
Arthur: It’s unlocked.
He steps through, closes door behind him. Thunder.
Yellow: We’re in a long room, at the front of the mansion on the second story still. It looks like a storage room of sorts. Two windows illuminate a number of objects in this room with the blue of lightning. Tall objects, some draped in white sheets. It seems safe for a moment. You should lock the door.
Arthur: Wha… why?
Yellow: So they don’t follow.
Arthur: But if they come to a door that was unlocked and they find it locked… then they’ll know we came this way. They’ll know we’re in here.
Yellow: Fine, leave it unlocked then.
Arthur: [Shivering] So, what kind of objects are in this room?
Yellow: I don’t know — most are covered. There’s a large mirror leaning against the wall to our right.
Yellow: A dresser...
Yellow: Oh… I think there might be a door on the far side of this room.
Arthur: An exit?
Yellow: Yes, maybe!
Arthur: Okay, okay.
Yellow: Some of these look like figures, looming over us. It’s… unsettling.
Yellow: This one to the side of you, the left.
Arthur: Well, let’s…let’s see.
Arthur pulls the sheet off. Thunder.
Yellow: Whoa. It’s a statue of a man holding… what looks to be his flayed skin. His muscle and bones are visible. The look on his face is pure agony.
Arthur: St. Bartholomew.
Yellow: A saint?
Arthur: Yes, ah… he was skinned alive, and… and beheaded.
Arthur: He’s the saint of leather makers I believe.
Yellow: How do you know this?
Arthur: He was an apostle, and I was… taught to know them.
Yellow: A what?
Arthur: Look it… it doesn’t matter. I’ve had this conversation before as well.
Arthur: I know it’s new for you, but… it’s painful for me.
Arthur: A bit. I-I guess we should put this back on.
Arthur throws the sheet back over it
Yellow: Is a lot of what I ask you the same?
Faroe’s Lullaby plays
Arthur: The same?
Yellow: As him.
Arthur: Oh… no… some.
Yellow: In the room, before we climbed outside… you mentioned you didn’t want to hide under the bed.
Arthur: For good reason.
Yellow: But you said, “not again.”
Arthur: Did I?
Yellow: Yes. What did you mean?
Arthur: [Sigh] John and I were stranded north of the city. This was back when we were still very much unfamiliar with each other – still trying to understand. We had difficulty maneuvering and communicating effectively.
Yellow: Right. When did you become familiar, or communicative? Truly.
Arthur: The prison pits, I think. We had a long time in there, and…experienced a great number of things.
Yellow: Was it difficult?
Yellow: Unless you…
Arthur: Yes, are we almost at the end of the room?
Yellow: Only about halfway.
Arthur: Okay. Anyway we were communicating poorly and I-I got into an automobile which was the wrong one, and…
Arthur: [Tersely] As I said, we were poor at communication. We met a man, in a gas mask, named Kellin. [Eerie violin stinger] He had some real troubles and he tried to hurt us. He did hurt me, quite badly, actually. Anyway, I hid under his bed to try to, ah...
Yellow: He found you.
Yellow: What happened to him?
Arthur: He died... I think. I hope.
Yellow: You hope?
Arthur: Yes. Anyway... What else is in this room? Anything?
Yellow: Lots, but it’s all stored away for safekeeping.
Arthur: Or cause it’s not wanted.
Yellow: Some interesting art.
Arthur: How so?
Yellow: There’s a painting of a lion eating a woman’s head.
Arthur: [sarcastic] Lovely, lovely.
Yellow: And... another of… an ornate stone.
Arthur: A painting of a stone?
Yellow: Yes. It’s odd. It’s painted very roughly.
Arthur: Where is it?
Yellow: Yes. Lift that one forward. No, that.
Arthur: This one?
Arthur: This one?
Lifts the painting
Yellow: Yes, it looks like a tapestry that’s been framed. It looks weathered and very old.
Arthur: As many tapestries are.
Yellow: The stone is elevated over what looks to be a swamp. [Mysterious piano music] But its proportions are off — the stone seems massive. It’s egg-shaped but elongated, divots and indentations cover it. Light comes from all around it to illuminate.
Arthur: Strange. What colour is it?
Arthur: A black stone?
Arthur: Hm, odd to dedicate a picture to that.
Yellow: In the woods, after we first met, when the wolves were surrounding us.
Arthur puts it back down
Piano transitions to main theme
Yellow: You said that it was easy to chew me apart because I was a piece of your friend, a piece that you hated.
Arthur: Yes. The King.
Yellow: You also said, especially because he hurt you near the end of your time together.
Yellow: What did he do?
Arthur: I trusted him, and he betrayed that trust.
Yellow: Did you forgive him?
Arthur: I don’t know… probably. Why?
Yellow: I don’t know. I just…
Arthur: I’m not going to tell you if that’s what you—
Yellow: NO! I’m just… nevermind.
Yellow: The door is just here.
Arthur: Alright, we’ll let’s look out…
The door scrapes open
Arthur: Oh, this door is heavy!
Yellow: This isn’t a door!
Yellow: Or at least a normal one. This is… part of the bookshelf! Arthur, this opens out into a study. There’s a fire in the hearth here.
Arthur: Is it empty in here?
Yellow: Yes, I don’t see anyone.
Arthur: Is there another way out?
Yellow: A door.
Arthur: Okay let’s leave… quickly.
Yellow: Close the shelf!
Closes the shelf. Footsteps
Yellow: Arthur, this office is filled with old furniture: high backed chairs, a leather couch. The walls are lined with bookshelves, and there’s a portrait above...
Yellow: It’s Andrew!
Arthur: Oh… wait, that’s…
Yellow: No, it’s Andrew but… from… he has three children around him.
Yellow: One of them looks like Uncle.
Eerie violins play
Yellow: We should leave.
Arthur: Yes. Hopefully the door leads back to the hallway.
Yellow: I-I don’t understand. It looks like Andrew lives here…
Arthur: It doesn’t matter right now.
Yellow: At this mansion.
Yellow: Even the desk is well used. Instruments that he has laid out.
Arthur: Yellow… wait, what?
Yellow: I just don’t understand what his role is. He said he came here from Arkham!
Arthur: Hold on, hold on, hold on. Instruments?
Yellow: A flute. It’s sitting on his desk.
Arthur: A flute?
Yellow: Yes. Why practice in a…
Arthur: We heard a flute, right before we passed out – when the creature was above us. Do you remember?
Thoughtful piano music
Arthur: Where… Here?
Yellow: A few steps to the left.
Yellow: Arthur, it’s an ornate wooden flute. Carvings run along the length of it, as well as bizarre lettering.
Arthur: Let’s take this.
Arthur takes the flute. Sound of a door opening goes unnoticed by him.
Arthur: There, good. Anyway, having this may end up giving us an advantage, and—
Something strikes Arthur, his hearing whines. Overlapping whispers transition to another dream. Melancholy piano plays.
Transcribed by the amazing Croik! My absolute appreciation to them for their effort and patience in making this.