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*Your characters will be only just arriving at the Couch Station or have been there for a little while. Please do interact with each other and the other NPCs at the scene. We'll be moving to the "haunted house" shortly.

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Coach Station: Corbis Wood is a small town or large village, depending on whether you ask the locals or out-of-towners, about a two hour drive northeast from Concorn, New Hampshire. The locals pride themselves in keeping to themselves and not bothering anyone, producing most of what they need and buying the rest locally. Newcomers and visitors find Corbis Wood a quient little place, if a little conservative for their own taste.

It isn't a huge population center, at most peaking at 500-600 people living in and around the surrounding area. No railway directly connencting it to the other towns and cities of New Hampshire, not that it's necessary. A local coach station fulfills the need to travel to and from Corbis Wood. Few townsfolk have invested their time and money in buying at automobile, preferring a tractor or a sturdy horse. But they can appriciate the benefits of having the occasional bus ride.

This is were you are meeting up for the much-anticipated seanse - The Corbis Wood Coach Station. As per instructions from the medium's manager, Mr. Whitefield, the attending members were to meet at the coach station at five PM on Friday 19th of August. The coach station is not a massive building, though not a humble shack though befitting a hovel. The brick walls and shiny sign hanging over the garage doors tell of a sizeable investment, as well as the modern-looking bus parked outside the station. A man in a driver's uniform leans against the bus, smoking a cigarette and flicking ash off of it as he eyes another man, short, stocky and well-dressed. He holds a bundle of small papers in his hand, smoking a cigarette with the other as he talks to a man sitting at the bench.

A younger man in his mid-to-late twenties sits at the bench at the sidewalk, casually looking down the road as if waiting for someone or something to show up. The stocky man talks calmly to him, sending the occational friendly smile to a couple sitting at yet another bench. "It's five-sharp now, Paul. Shouldn't be too long before more people show up. I tell ya, this will be our...your big break!" The stocky man reassurers the young man - Paul - walking up to him and patting him at his shoulder. "It's not how many people show up I'm worried about, Herbert, and you know that..." Paul tells Herbert, standing up and waving off the air of smoke coming from Herbert, his manager.

The clock hanging on the coach station wall continues to clik. A pair of women, young and attractive, the other middle-aged and sullen exit the coach station to wander to the bus, the young flapper eyeballing Paul with sharp eyes. Somewhere in the distance more people approach, on foot or on motorcycle. Someone else comes after the pair of women from the coach station. Whoever decides to come when and where, it is Mr. Whitefield with his slick black hair, stocky and short stature and salesman's smile that catch their eyes.

Welcome to Corbis Wood, next stop Tannerhill House and an adventure unintended.

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Eleanora walked down the roads of Corbis Wood with a mostly negative to at best neutral scowl, heading towards the Coach Station. This… gathering had all the markings of an elaborate hoax, but with the absence of better leads, it was going to have to do. It’s been a long while since she had anything good to go by, it seemed that the supernatural was a hard thing to track, unless you moved in it’s circles. She knew weird stuff were going on all around, but even as a detective, unless she was hired for such a job, by the time it reached her ears, it would already be all over and little to no traces would be left. Information wasn’t as fast traveling as she’d like it to be.

Walking ever onwards the dusty road, she spotted the station in the not so far distance.” This better pay out...” She grumbled under her breath, speed increasing in tune with the scowl on her face, clearly showing she wasn’t in the best of moods right now. On this job, she hadn’t touched alcohol for a good some time now, ever since she left home to come to Corbis Wood. She kept focused, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t being affected by irritation, especially since this blasted place was so quiet and calm in general. She hated quiet places… in these places were the most dangerous of thing hiding. She ran a finger through her hair, twirling a raven lock as she walked the last bit of the road to the station.

The station was already rather filled with people she supposed, at least when considered the location and the people who lived around these parts. She scanned the people around and quickly spotted what she suspected were the people organizing this event. Once more she had to remind herself that if it didn’t pan out with clues, she’d just consider it a vacation from her job… A getaway from the city. Still clearly irritated to some degree, she pulled a cigarette, brought it to her lips and after it was secured there, she pulled her lighter and it up. She inhaled deeply with half closed eyes, her tense and irritated features calming just a tad as she turned to the stocky man and the younger one.

Walking with confident gait and directly to the pair of men, she stopped a few steps distance from them, reaching to her cigarette, holding it gently between her middle and index fingers she inhaled one last time, before pulling it away from her lips. She exhaled the smoke to the side, not to do so in their faces.” You Paul LeMond and Herb Whitefield?” Eleanora asked them, bringing the cigarette to her lips again for a quick pull from it.” Name's Eleanora Estelle, pleasure meeting you.” She added with her slight french accent, but her voice despite that didn’t carry as much pleasantries as what was being said. She was clearly not in a great mood, but she wasn’t outright hostile at the very least.