With a keen burst of divine magic, Hames shatters the lock into eight different pieces; the window is quickly unlatched and lifted open.
The lowest floor of the house is an odd mix of functional, unsentimental and sumptuous. It has the kitchen and receiving room of a busy politician, the lack of personal portraiture and mementos of a social recluse, and the rich portraits of Queen Abrogail and the fine engravings of Cheliax's laws of an ambitious bureaucrat.
The door upstairs awaits.
Simeon leads the way upstairs, moving as quietly as he can, falling into old habits as he tests each step for extra-creakiness.
Reaching out for a wall to brace his gentled footsteps, Simeon's hand skates off the surface and through a wall-mounted lantern, glass bloodying his hand and letting a terrific crash resonate through the house.
Those still near the window hear the guardsmen around the other side of the house moving around to investigate.
Simeon lets loose a string of expletives and shakes his hand, blood splattering everywhere before he sticks it in his mouth and sucks on the wound.
"Gah! Who puts a stupid lamp on the wall?" He then places his hand between his thighs and squeezes it before taking a deep breath and cocking his head.
"Looks like they've somehow detected us. Quick - hide and then ambush them!"
Moving like a wraith, Simeon darts behind the closest piece of furniture, tapestry, wall hanging, or suit of precariously balanced armor.
Hames closes the window and latches it (basically restoring it to how they found it), before laying flat underneath it. He hopes the guards will think the sound they heard was the lock falling apart due to decay and hitting the ground.
"Everyone, away from the window!", says Hames in a hushed whisper [Inspiring Command, everyone gets +2 to Skill checks, among other things]
Dieuwer takes Hames' advice to heart and starts running away from the window as fast as he can until reaching a suitable place to hide and see how the situation develops.
The guards move around and make a cursory inspection.
They move themselves on, not spotting the broken window latch of the forms trying to keep silent inside the room.
Dieuwer stays put and prays silently that his companions will be reasonable enough to do the same.
Watching his companions from his vantage point on the floor, Hames stays put and silent like the others. It couldn't hurt to give it a little while before moving around again.
A few more moments of holding still leave you ready when the guards dart back to listen at the window. One curses at the other for wasting time, and the two move on.
"The coast is clear, I think." Hames picks himself up off the floor, taking a quick look around to consider what the party should be doing next. He figures it would probably be a good idea to try and head up the stairs a second time, but knowing that the sneaky-type stuff isn't his forte, Hames looks to Simeon and gestures towards the steps.
Simeon breathes a deep sigh of relief, nods, and continues his ascent. This time he moves even more slowly, taking painstaking care to climb as stealthily as he can.
Simeon finds another lamp... yet manages to catch it before it makes too much noise.
The door to the upstairs awaits. You have been warned that it has been trapped.
Simeon hesitates beside the door and then looks down at the others.
"Hames, you got any magic that we can use to open this without bringing the world down on our heads?"
Simeon remembers that the servant described it as a 'flame-trap'.
Simeon shudders and steps judiciously behind Hames.
Hames reaches out his hand and attempts to woodshape the door.
Reaching out to the door, Hames attempts to warp the wood and create a new opening. The quietly shrieking wood however dislodges the knob, causing a sudden burst of fire to vomit forth from the grain.
Hames puts his hand to the door, attempting to warp it. He gets singed when his efforts set off the door trap...
...but he is able to avoid the brunt of the flames.
Dodging to the side, Hames quickly puts out a patch of fire on his beard and shoulder. "How troublesome," mumbles the Cleric. "As if we haven't had enough fire for the week, and to think we still have to burn this place down afterward." Hmph! It was a surprise their target hadn't managed to burn down the house himself, what with traps like these.
Hames examines the door thoroughly before trying again, having noticed that the trap went off only when the knob was displaced. It seemed to him that the door's trap was magical in nature, since the fire came forth from the grain itself. If that's the case... All that could be done was to fight the door's magic with that of Apsu's creative power, and so, reaching out a second time, he attempts to break the handle with his Artificer's Touch.
While the trap was still triggered, Hames' efforts prove successful in opening the door. With a mild creak it rocks back, leading to the study beyond.
Stepping through the door, Hames proceeds to the first door on the left, gently trying the handle.
Simeon grins and rubs his hands with anticipation before following on Hames' heels, intently peering around for both trouble and information.
Simeon finds himself in the forefront of a very private rich study. Burnished wood, burgundy carpeting, custom-bound book collections on yew shelves. A large distinguishingly metal-bound wardrobe, chest and desk augment the room.
Simeon moves forward with a purpose, looking and searching for whatever might catch his eye. Rifling through the desk, opening the chest, he seeks objects of both monetary value and that which might inform their quest.
Hames, naturally, assists with Simeon's search.
Simeon comes across the trappings of bureaucracy- formal robes, stationary, daggers and poison-pill rings. He also comes across a holy symbol of Asmodeus made from pure gold and, in a small box, a monocle.
In the desk, he discovers a small diary.
Hames suddenly feels a strong urge to check the ceiling, carefully craning his head upwards.
He sees nothing.
"Hmm," mutters Simeon, bouncing the small diary in his palm. "Much as I hate to admit it, this probably has what we came looking for. At least, it might explain our friend's defection. Hames, care to take a look at the last few entries?"
That said, he lobs the diary over to Hames underhand.
Then he freezes, eyes going wide as he stares at an innocuous silver cup. "Uh. Guys? That cup there. I coulda sworn it just moved by itself." His voice has gone stiff and tight with sudden nerves.
No one else noticed anything; but they didn't notice it not-moving.