a lightly armored dwarf with spectacles and a wide variety of tools and weapons strapped to himself is eyeing Samora with a very distinctly specifically Rahadi sort of guarded suspicion; 

and a kobold, wearing a tiny clearly-not-professionally-made almost-perfect duplicate of Thida's outfit, with a spellbook nearly the size of his torso on a shoulder strap and holding a miniature bladed staff that may once in its lifetime have been a human-sized dagger. He has no suspicion whatsoever, only enthusiasm. 

"Oh dear," says Vandy, surveying their collective level of injuredness. No one is actively bleeding to death or anything but some of those gore wounds look like they hurt. 

"Oh!" says Thida, upon seeing Samora. She is immediately way more interested in A New Friend than whether she is currently mildly injured. "Hello! I don't think we've met! I'm Thida Aubade, paladin of Sarenrae," she is so pleased to get to say this, it's been true for like three weeks. "These are my friends and my squire--" she introduces them each by name, gesturing. Yuliya and Vuzi nod politely.

Billie waves, grinning and showing all his little draconic teeth. He is so proud to be A Squire. He's gonna be a Knight. He knows like five words of Taldane at present but those are two of them. 

"Pleasure to meet you all! Samora, cleric of Iomedae." Funny how they're both switched from the more common one. "You guys look like you want a channel and then small talk, yeah?"

Nooooooo small talk is her faaavoriiiiiiite 

She is responsible for several additional entire people's health and safety now and she needs to be a grownup about it. "That would be amazing, yeah, please, I've only got the one smite and no channels yet." 

Channel! Channeling while not surrounded by ghouls is so much nicer than the other way even if it does cause her to remember being surrounded by ghouls. Which she presently is not. 

New people! "Hi new people! I'm Tris! What's your story?"

"Thank you!" Quick inventory of her limbs and everyone else's. Excellent, all nice and healed. How fortunate, to live in a world where the Good churches can all be friends and (she beams at Tris) so can the disparate peoples of many places. "Hello! Nice to meet you!" Let's see, how to answer that question-- 

Thida surveys her party, determines that Yuliya and Vuzi are both making oh god dont make me have a social interaction please talk for me thanks love you facial expressions, and gleefully launches into a Narrative. She's an excellent storyteller, even with the mild flow handicap of periodically pausing between sentences to repeat-slowly-and-enunciate key words with Draconic translations for Billie. 

It's quite a story. 

"I'm sorry about your brother. And—Billie, I'm very impressed by your courage and good sense." Realizing that your people are in the wrong and immediately turning to protect their victims takes a lot of both. "I'm glad you have each other."

Solemn nod. "I will see him again someday in Nirvana, but thank you. I am very glad of this too!" 

They can chat a bit more about their respective religious education, etc., but eventually it is time for everyone to return to their adventuring-related tasks. 

It's nice to make friends! It's also nice to get their errands done by dusk. 

The main errand is that Tris wants some locksmithing gear, because there look to be a lot of locked doors in their future. She knows how to use it, but she traded her last set to a guy in Diobel for a book on the romantic customs of dragons and then once she had read the book she traded it to a guy in Qadira for some very interesting mushrooms. Anyway, the point is, lockpicks, she wants some.

Later, back at the Rowdy Rockfish: 

"We should talk over how to not almost die anymore."

"Agreed. It seems to me that our primary error was not necessarily following a cry for help, which I do think we should in general do though at first circle one has to be realistic about scale, but rather following it quite far very fast. Thoughts?" 

"Yeah, I think we should have paid more attention to what sort of environment we were going into. And now that we know how much stuff is in the basement—and how much basement there is—we should be more prepared next time we go in there."

"And no more sleeping in the lighthouse. It's clearly not going to be a one-day job, we should come back here to sleep and prepare spells and things. Just because we didn't get ambushed last time doesn't mean we won't."

Oh thank fuck the tiny earnest spellcaster children have reasonable risk tolerance. 

"Yes, I completely agree. With this in mind, I suggest that our next priority should be addressing anything else that may be in the lighthouse itself, before we go back into its basement. If there is anything dangerous there, it is better faced than left at our backs." And they can probably handle the ghouls if at least one of the two casters gets to second circle, ideally both, though it's bad luck to say that out loud. 

"I don't like ignoring the call for help for that long but we'll be no use to whoever it is if we can't get there, so, agreed."

And all his bones seem to be back where they belong, so: dungeonward with them. 

Their next obstacle remains: a door. 

Great news! All of his bones continue to be in their correct locations. Worry not about where the muscles are located. 

As long as the door gets opened, she's not gonna question it.

The party sees: 

The smooth walls of this circular room are painted a light gray with no indication of seams between blocks of stone. A set of iron stairs winds upward along the curved walls before terminating at a trap door in the ceiling nearly a hundred feet above. A red bloodstain glistens on the floor at the room’s center, as though a human-sized creature bled to death on the floor very recently, despite there being no body in sight.

Why's that, you ask?  

The Roseguard finally defeated Belcorra in this room nearly five centuries ago. As she died, Belcorra’s spirit was drawn down into the depths of the Abomination Vaults through Gauntlight, but the bloodstain she left on the floor remains as fresh as the day she died.

All of which is to say: 

This room is really haunted. 

It is, however, daytime, which means it is inertly haunted. The blood shifts and moves like the surface of a lake, but does not bestir itself to attack them in any exciting manner. What would they like to do about this?