@Eviledd1984The landscape is hilly and devastated, everything in it scorched black as ashes snow down from the sky. The smell of smoke seems to strengthen as he gets higher. His vision blurs as his pupils rapidly contract, and he can hear the north statue calling to him... This time with a voice. It was just as loud and booming as the notes implied, though it lacked any emotion or intonation.
"CAERBOG DOES NOT FUCK WITH MAN-APES. BRING CAERBOG A SACRIFICE OR YOU SHALL SUFFER IN CAERBOG'S ABANDONMENT."
From the south another statue seemed to call to him.
"Don' listenna that ol' fool." Said an androgynous, slurred voice to the south, "Hessa big, primitive shit'ead. *hic* Hessa one who got this ol' place burnt. I can fixxit, ifye bringer sacrifice terme."
"The others... Don't know
anything... About
responsibility..." a gruff voice said simply, coming from the west "Give
me the sacrifice..."
The last statue to talk was the eastern one, "You're all a bunch of egotists with your heads in the clouds! I'm the only one who would know what to
do with a sacrifice if I had one!"
@HHHippoLuckily for the schemer, the balcony was a fair 20 feet above the ground. It would be tough to decide whether the brick path or the grass would make it a better decision.
"I could tell you right now, but I don't think you'd believe me. The best part about me not working here is that I don't have the keys to any rooms, or the clearance to enter any employee areas. I can only go where this uniform can take me, and that's here, the outside yard, and anywhere between those places and the supply shed." He said, with growing confidence in his statements, "There's literally no way I could have tampered with anything in there. Just... Drink some champagne, try to do something frustratng on the internet... Maybe try to put down your cigs for a while? When things get...
Bothersome-And you'll know what I mean when it happens,- Come to the courtyard. I'll help you out."
@DJAtomikaThe bottom floor didn't seem much less strange, though from here she could feel slight vibrations in the ground intermittently, with booming noises in the background. A man downstairs in torn, World-War-era military fatigues was fortifying the door with furniture. Bits and pieces of what looked to be medieval plate armor were strapped on where he could get them, his knees, left elbow, right shin, and upper right arm were well protected from whatever harm may come to him. A simple pan protected his head.
His weapon of choice may or may not be a pipe wrench, judging by the fact that he carries a rather large one to and from a toolbox whenever he needs more nails to pound things in place with said hunk of steel. His rifle seems to be the straightforward hunting fare, though this was on his back instead. The source of the smoke was a small fire, upon which a burly, rodent-like creature was roasting, half the size of a man. It may have been a kangaroo, but its claws were too long, and it had the eyes of a paranoid-schizophrenic horse and the snout of an amphibious anteater.
An unusually clean post-it-note was on the bottom step,
If you want, talk to them, but don't sneak up on them. If you're feeling sociable, let them find you. What remains of the Caerbogian Army is jumpy, but they usually mean well. They've been surviving here longer than I have.
-G 
