The mansion looked run down from the outside, can't say it's much better now that he's in. Oh well any port in a storm. Passing a couple of squabbling poltergeists in the foyer he continues deeper inside. Definitely a fixer upper.
Water drips from his clothes as he trudges up the stairs and down the hall. Entering the study he reaches deep into his pockets and withdraws a bottle of scotch and a bottle of drambuie. Setting them on the dusty desk he peels off his wet coat and throws it over a chair. Mixing himself a Rusty Nail he takes a deep drink and lets the glow chase the cold from his wet bones. The only spirts he's concerned about for the moment come in a bottle.
The bars open folks....