Sarah’s Investigation Notes
- While I did try to leave as much as I could undisturbed in the range I just couldn’t leave the journal; it seems far too precious and old. For the sake of preserving – what looks to be just a story of his final days – having this digital copy will be more than enough. The original is safely stashed away.
- It seems to me that there must be a way to get to get those portraits down for further investigation. But it just seemed that I was not capable of doing so with conventional tools.
Sir Alden's Journal
It seems to me that, what originally appeared like random numbers and letters, was a hex code. What else could this be related to?
I’m a timeless image, a sight to behold, In black and white, my story’s told. A young girl in a white dress, so fair, In Sir Alden’s world, I’m a captured air.
Who am I, in this frozen frame, A daughter’s portrait, without a name? Though color’s gone, my essence remains, In Sir Alden’s love, forever ingrained.
What am I, this monochrome delight, In Sir Alden’s life, a memory’s light?
In shadows and light, our kinship displayed, A black and white portrait, memories laid. Sir Alden’s clan, generations entwined, In this still image, our legacy defined.
Who are we, in this framed tableau? A family’s history, from long ago. A tale of love, triumphs, and strife, In Sir Alden’s world, we’re frozen in life.
What’s the name of our clan, if you dare to guess, From Sir Alden’s past, we’ll never regress. In the frame we reside, our story’s unfurled, Can you unveil the name of our world?
In a frame of the past, our mansion appears, Black and white portrait, echoing years. A haunted family home, secrets it hides, In Sir Alden’s legacy, our terror abides.
Where darkness creeps, and phantoms reside, A chilling place where spirits bide. Within its walls, the lost souls roam, Can you reveal the name of our haunted home?
What am I, this dwelling of dread, Where Sir Alden’s family’s legacy spread? In this monochrome image, the secrets unfurl, Tell me the name of our haunted world.
I’m the specter of Sir Alden, from times of old, In the haunted mansion, my story is told. Invisible to most, a phantom I am, My presence lingers, like a forgotten exam.
I walk the halls, my footsteps unheard, Invisible whispers, like a song from a bird. Eternal guardian of this manor’s dark coast, Can you unveil the riddle of Sir Alden’s ghost?
What am I, in this ethereal realm, A spirit from history’s overwhelming helm? A lost soul wandering, seeking the most, To uncover the mystery of Sir Alden’s ghost.
In the shadows I dwell, my face concealed, A hooded enigma, a presence unsealed. Silent and mysterious, I come and I go, My secrets hidden, both friend and foe.
My steps are hushed, my identity concealed, In the darkest night, my secrets revealed. Who am I, this figure unknown, In the veil of my cloak, my story’s thrown?
What am I, lurking in the night, A shrouded specter, out of sight? A riddle within a riddle, a puzzle to post, Can you decipher the enigma of the hooded ghost?