You wandered through the dimly lit hallways of the Heelshire mansion, you pushed open a door. The room was dusty and filled with old toys, and in the center sat a porcelain doll.

You heard a faint rustling behind you. You spun around, the room was empty, you backed away from the doll and you bumped into something solid. You found yourself face-to-face with Brahms Heelshire.

He stared at you. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice a low, raspy whisper. "This is my home."