You glance at Renault. "Any chance running through the greatest hits?" you ask. "Clanking chains, materializing at dinner, persuading family members to off each other?"
The specter rolls his eyes. "Very sensitively put." He rotates in midair, scanning the area. "Wait here," he says finally. "If you hear any screaming, don't worry. It'll just be me."
He floats through a wall, vanishing. As though you all share the same instinct, the rest of you step towards the wall, endeavoring to remain as out of sight as possible.
After a few moments, a shriek splits the air. You don't jump; after all that's happened so far, you can't see yourself jumping at much anymore.
As you'd hoped, the door is suddenly flung open, and a large, burly figure sprints out. You don't have much time to catch details: there's a flash of dark suit and a desperately colorful tie, and then he's gone.
There's no time to waste; your group slips into the office, closing the door behind you. A moment later, Renault floats up through the floor as though there's nothing out of the ordinary about it.
Which, you suppose, there isn't. Not anymore.
"Right," you say once the door is securely shut and locked behind you, "we might not have long. Search everywhere: drawers, filing cabinets, wastepaper baskets. What we're looking for could be anywhere."
The office is richly furnished, with thick, plush carpets, an abundance of oak and mahogany furniture, and portraits of a series of identical elderly men who are all glaring at you as though they're aware of your trespass. Heavy crimson curtains block out any natural light; the room itself is illuminated by two large brass lamps.
From there, you and your classmates move quickly: drawers are pulled open, cupboards rifled through, bins emptied. It's hardly the most orderly search, but it's certainly thorough.
"You're taking this in your stride," Val comments, hefting a brass lamp as though it weighs nothing at all. "Break into a lot of offices back in your old school?"