Lela
Wisteria's lone eye moved to look to the taller, more burly blonde in the group; hearing her inquire as to what information she had to help them prepare. The fire mage shrugged, debating what she should tell and not tell. Best not to let something slip close to them being suspicious of her knowledge. "It used to be a cathedral from what I heard. A holy place, before it got ransacked and made a lair for some criminals. Pretty sure it was abandoned, but who knows what creatures might of snuck their way in after all the time it's been left sitting to collect dust." 

The comment from the elven woman, Allisara, about trying not to die and wondering if their bravery or stupidity called them all to this made Wisteria scoff. She wouldn't call it stupidity or bravery, Perhaps curiosity at best for her. There was much more to this than what the butler was telling them, but the dragon woman kept her own inquiries to herself. 

She raised a brow at the elf woman's request for lodging away from the coughing fit beyond the hall. She said she wasn't trying to be rude, but didn't stop the request from sounding anything but.

*Whether we get a good night's sleep or not isn't going to make this easy. I can already tell.*

"Unfortunately it sounded pretty rude. Especially if that's the guy paying all this gold." Wisteria muttered, turning her head to look down the hall tot he unknown benefactor. "Too sick to come see the merry band he's hiring?"
Francis
"***Yes miss,*** *That* ***Crypt.***"

Herbac replied to Wisteria with a flicker of his gaze towards her. He seemed almost curt with his reply as if even saying the word crypt would antagonize some form of evil or malevolent force to act against him. Upon both Thyri asking Wisteria and Allisara asking him the butler sighed as he readjusted his tie like he was preparing himself for the conversation at hand.

"***The tomb of Zenerath Bore-***"

A window blew open from a harsh gust of wind, the air within the room suddenly dropped as the fire in the hearth struggled to keep alight. The butler walked over, almost unnaturally fast and quickly shut the window- locking it tight.

"***It's a forgotten legend. A myth told about around camp fires, sung by bards and told in reverence by children too foolish to know. Indeed I am desperate for adventurers to take upon this quest because it's a time sensitive matter... And yes, yes he is.***" A gaze of sorrow came off the butler as he turned his eyes towards the hallway the dreadful cough had came from earlier. Indeed Herbac knew that the time for his friends death would soon arrive and that this final request wasn't as difficult as some would believe it to be- but it had become so in recent years.

"***The tomb is at the sight of a battle from around thirty years ago where a band of heroes fought and defeated a dark sorcerer and his cult. The battle was considered calamitous due to the residual dark magic left behind by the sorcerer... And as such the Magos Academia sealed the bones and bodies of both the leader and his cult down into the cathedral they'd once called home. Now it's simply known as, around Forstead atleast, __the__ crypt. It's superstition to believe it's real name carry's power... But I'd say the three of us well enough understand that names have power.***"

** **
With a knowing look of almost suppressed regret the butler finished his speech about the crypt in question with a small sigh- a metaphorical weight lifted off his shoulders. Then turning his attention to Allisara once more he offered a kind nod, oddly enough it seemed catering to others made him happier- the smile it telling.

"***No need for such apologies, I understand miss. There are plenty rooms within the estates, I keep the place well in order. I'll be happy to show you three whenever we are done with our discussion. The same goes for armor and weapons actually, we have a functioning forge around the back, feel free to make use of it if you'd like. I can also personally sharpen or shape up your gear if you'd wish, I come from a family of smiths so I know a thing or two.***" His gaze flickered to Thyri at that remark, able to assume her trade given her eye for the weapons and items on the walls.

Upon Wisterias mention of the rudeness the butler was hasty to wave a hand in attempt to pass by the assumption- he nearly got a sound out whenever another voice cut him off immediately.
Constance
"***No.***"

A voice as old as an ancient tree and as deep as the deeps of dwarven mines spoke from down the hall. A shadow was cast at the doorway of the only visible room, a looming and powerful presence seemed to emanate from the room as whomever was within it walked closer to the exit- every step made it obvious that the figure was...*Armored?*

"***Your goal is to delve into the crypt and-***"

Out of the doorway emerged a figure of size and strength befitting a knight of old. He is extremely tall, perhaps part giant or goliath, his body and muscles seem strong and large despite the coughing from earlier. His armor was old silver with golden trim, if Thyri is as gifted and knowledgeable as she seems it's obvious he wears armor that only the paladins of Nuliia- *The goddess of might, glory and victory*, wear.

"***-retrieve my sword from within. I dare not die without the weapon I have trained since birth with... Had this been some thirty years or so ago I could have made the trip alone but... I cannot. That is why I n-***" 

Directly within the middle of his speaking a harsh cough ripped from the man's throat, then another. Pulling a cloth from his beltline the old man covered his mouth and hacked away freely before he pocketed the cloth once again- the cloth now speckled with red.

"***Why I am in need of your services, I am not long for this world.***"