WINDOW & RADIO

You approach the antique radio by the broken window. The poor thing looks forlorn, seeming to long for the days in which it entertained a happier household, rather than an audience of memories and dust. A burned piece of parchment rests atop the radio.

CHECK THE PARCHMENT

TRY THE RADIO

The radio no longer appears to be working. You turn the dials, but nothing happens. You’re about to abandon the radio when it comes to life with a violent energy! The dials spin madly, jumping from station to station until landing on an unsettling tune.

APPROACH THE WINDOW

You move to the window, trying to catch another breath of rain-clean air. You try to settle your thoughts, gazing out into the stormy darkness. There is nothing there to bolster you but darkness. As your unsteady breath fogs the window, a message appears:



“The bloodhound sniffs a trail gone cold,
Where fathers were in times of old.”