[Celebel]

Dinner With Death 4
The Secret of Stonebriar



Rules

Spoiler

The Rule of 4:

Spoiler

As this is the fourth Dinner With Death, I thought it would be fitting to include the number 4 as a recurring element in the revamped gameplay system. Expect to see this number cropping up a lot as you read through the rest of the rules.

4 (x2) Stats:

Spoiler

There are 4 (x2) or 8 stats in the game, each with it's own effect. The base number for stats is 4, and each character has a unique set that has positive or negative variations of this base; however, each character's stats will always total 32.

When attempting an action that relies upon their stats, the relevant stat will be added to the roll of a 10-sided die. The following table relates the outcomes of the roll plus your relevant stat(s).

1-8: Failure
9: Complication
10-12: Success
13+: Critical Success

A failure is exactly as named, a complete inability to succeed at the action. A complication represents a less than favorable outcome; it's not good, but can still potentially be salvaged with a bit of work. Success represents accomplishing the act as intended while critical successes are the best possible outcome of that action.

At times, a player may be presented with a passive stat check. If they pass, they will be notified and presented some additional information or options; if they fail, they will not even be told of the attempt and no special interaction will take place. Passive checks have a set number that must be met which is determined by the individual nature of the check itself.

The stats and their effects are:

Strength (STR)- Determines physical power and durability.

Dexterity (DEX)- Gauges one's deftness and accuracy.

Speed (SPD)- How quickly a character is able to move, as well as their physical agility.

Intellect (INT)- Gives an idea as to how much knowledge, reasoning, and mental capacity an individual has.

Willpower (WIL)- Is an indicator of how strong-willed and determined one is, as well as their mental fortitude and general ability to remained focused and calm.

Stealth (STL)- Relays how easily and well one can hide their presence while hiding or attempting to move about undetected.

Persuasion (PRS)- The more convincing and/or charismatic one is, the higher this stat will be.

Perception (PER)- Unlike the others, this stat is completely passive. Actions involving it will not appear, but it is used to gather additional information and to counter STL and PRS actions initiated by other characters.

*Special Note*
- Unlike the other active stats, Stealth and Persuasion are not checked against a D10 role when performed on another player. Instead, the initiator's corresponding stat is added to a D10 role and then compared against the target's Perception combined with a separate D10 roll. If the initiator's total is higher or equal, they pass.

4 Traits:

Spoiler

Every player character has a set of 4 unique traits. Traits no longer alter stats (which are now separate from passive traits) and instead convey a set of passive bonuses, penalties, or alternate playstyles. These Passive Traits are always in effect.

Additionally, there are Active Traits, which must either be initiated by the player through request or selected through action choices. These traits provide additional abilities unique to the character.

4 Inventory Spaces:

Spoiler

Each player may carry a maximum of 4 items at a time. One of these item slots is designated as the "Hands" slot; the item in this slot is actively 'equipped' and carried in the open by the player, while the other 3 items are concealed.

4 Item Types:

Spoiler

There are 4 special attributes that items may possess. The attributes are:

Concealed {C}- A Concealed weapon may be carried in the Hands slot and is not visible.

Quick Change {Q}- A Quick Change item may be switched back and forth between the Hands slot and the rest of inventory without any kind of delay or penalty applied to the player. For example, if a Knife has the Q attribute, a player does not need to take the action "Draw Knife" before using a "Stab" action.

Ranged {R}- Items with the Ranged attribute are designed in such a way that they are meant or able to be used at a distance, either shot or thrown.

Passive {P}- Items marked Passive provide some constant effect to the bearer.

Note that an item may have any combination of C, Q, R and P attributes. Equally important is that an item can also have none of these.

4 Levels of Light:

Spoiler

There are 4 different degrees of lighting the players can encounter, which are:

Lit, Dim, Shadowy, Darkness

Lit represents normal light conditions and conveys no special effects. However, Dim conditions impose a -1 PER penalty on players. This penalty then doubles for each successive degree, such that Shadowy imparts a -2 PER penalty and Darkness a -4 penalty. Suffice to say, your Perception will plummet the darker it gets.

4 Degrees of Health:

Spoiler

Just like lighting, there are 4 conditions that represent how healthy a player is. And just like lighting, the initial condition conveys no penalty while the other 3 get progressively worse. Players can get injured through actions or events in the game, and the severity of their injury is represented by how many stages of injury they progress through (which is itself determined by the circumstances). There are also ways to heal and remove these penalties, but I will not tell you here what they are.

Healthy, Bruised, Wounded, Dying

Bruised will give a -1 penalty to all stats. This penalty also doubles each level so that Wounded grants a -2 stat penalty and Dying a -4 penalty.

When healing, a player must heal through the stages progressively, so a player who has reached Dying and heals must first heal to Wounded, then Bruised, then finally Healthy. If a player is Dying and gets hurt, their character will be killed (and since there is no fantasy in this game, they're gone for good). However, a player cannot be directly killed without first stopping at Dying (so if you are Wounded and take 2 damage, instead of being killed you will be Dying, but any further injury afterward results in death).

Party of 4:

Spoiler

Four is the largest allowable group size, whether it be a party exploring about together intentionally, or people running into each other in a room. While outside the Saferoom, players are allowed to travel with others by forming a party, which in turn grants them a private group conversation channel. The party can consist of 2, 3, or 4 players. Note that while some options will be presented to the group in general, nothing prevents the individuals from taking actions on their own or being presented with actions in private by the mod.

4 Minute Edits:

Spoiler

Edits are allowed within the first 4 minutes of a post. Any edits following that will be strictly punished (not really, you can probably get away with edits at any time so long as you aren't drastically changing what you've said) by 4 slaps across the face with a squid!

In all seriousness, edits to fix grammar and such are not a very big deal. So long as the basic essence of a post doesn't change, you can pretty much edit whenever you like.

Final Notes on Rules That Don't Fit Neatly Into a 4 Theme:

Spoiler

The Game Thread Represents the Saferoom. Only characters who are currently in the Saferoom are allowed to post in the game thread. While in the Saferoom you have an alibi for anything that happens outside the room, but cannot participate in exploration and most actions (some may still be available). To leave the Saferoom, PM the mod and ask to leave and I will relay your departure to the thread OR post an RP exit with a bolded comment stating your desire to leave.

Actions Control Gameflow Outside the Saferoom. While outside the Saferoom, players are guided by various actions presented to them. Generally, they may just select one of the actions, but they may also suggest their own by bolding it. It is up to the mod's discretion in deciding if player-generated actions are acceptable or could be acceptable with modification. After selecting an action, the mod will then relay the consequences of the chosen action and present a new set.

One Of You Is Guilty. The murderer lurks among the players, and is not an npc. They will not be chosen at random and their motive, method, and guilt is crafted into the story.

There Is No Magic. There are no supernatural or otherwise fantastical elements in the game; everything has a rational explanation. I reserve the right that the rational explanations might be unusual to a degree, but plausible they remain.

Remain In Character. Since there is no dedicated OOC thread, the main game thread serves the purpose of both IC and OOC posts. You are free to speak out of character as much as you like, just make sure you preface it with /ooc notifiers so that other players can easily recognize if it is an in-game post or a comment about the game. Please direct questions to the mod through your role PM, and please do not create new PMs to speak to the mod. You are not required to use /ooc or remain in character while in your personal role PM.

Maps

Spoiler

First Floor:

Spoiler

Second Floor:

Spoiler

Third Floor:

Spoiler

Fourth Floor:

Spoiler

Basement:

Spoiler

- A green line across a doorway represents an open door. A red line represents a door which is locked or otherwise impassable at the start of the game.

- Blue stairways represent ascending stairs from the perspective of that floor. Purple stairs are descending from that floor.

Cast

Spoiler

Miss Erika Carver (Triahna)

Head of female staff and housekeeping at Stonebriar Manor.

Grigor Nikolov (Irontiki)

An eccentric and possibly genius inventor.

Beatrice de Luca (Caidryn)

A mystery novelist and socialite.

Sir Gilbert Sullivan (Holy Dragoon)

The absent-minded Major-General.

Mrs. Kathleen Sullivan (Raendrops)

The long-suffering Major-General's wife.

Lord Charles Norriston (Thaigare)

The larger than life world-renowned adventurer.

Simurgh Smith (Malrend)

A prodigious defense attorney from America.

Yorick Jenkins (Dagger)

A strange and off-putting odd-job man.

Kenneth Hale (Hellbreaker)

The chef at Stonebriar Manor.

Jeremiah Fox (LokiOathbreaker)

A wealthy industrialist and businessman.

Rev. Bartholomew Green (Hashio)

A former college professor, now the local deacon.

Lord Joshua Thorne

The host and lord of Stonebriar Manor.

Albert Cobble

The head butler at Stonebriar and Thorne's valet.

Lloyd Alton

A butler working at Stonebriar Manor.

Harold Jacobson

The groundskeeper and handyman.

Amy Moore

A maid working at Stonebriar Manor.

Kelly Belle

A somewhat vain young girl working as a maid.

Alice Rivers

The new staff maid at Stonebriar.

Chapter Index

Spoiler

Prologue: The Paradise Gold
Chapter 1: A Thorne in One's Side
Chapter 2: Ashes to Ashes
Chapter 3: Curse of a Pagan God

This post has been edited by Celebel: 16 January 2013 - 11:40 AM

[Celebel]

Prologue: The Paradise Gold

"Bloody jungle! How the Indians manage to navigate this God-forsaken terrain is beyond me..."

A wall of vines and overgrowth parted as a machete sliced its way through, revealing a man of middle years. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of a sunburnt arm, he turned and surveyed the path he had just opened up.

"What I wouldn't give for a decent road right now..."

He began to resume chopping his way through the undergrowth once again, only to suddenly stop and call over his shoulder.

"Come on lads, step up! Don't fall behind!"

The sound of footsteps crunching on the fallen vegetation was heard as a dozen or more people wearily trudged onward. The lead member of the group, slightly more alert than the rest, stared forward into the wall of green arrayed before them.

"Nathaniel, are you sure this is the right way? Maybe we're lost, or those villagers lied to us?

"Nonsense, the locals want the Thugs gone just as much as the Governor-General down in Calcutta. And I would trust the Indian's sense of direction in this twisted maze over an Englishman's. Now if this were a proper country and had some open spaces!-" at this point he hacked furiously at a particularly stubborn clump of interwoven branches "-I'd be inclined to agree with you Roger. But I'm sure it can't be much farther now."

The march continued in silence, broken only by the thwacking as Nathaniel cleaved through the brush and the sound of heavy boots hitting the damp earth. Some ten minutes had passed when suddenly the ground in front of the men fell away into a deep ravine, causing the group to come to a sudden halt. As the followers huddled around the edge of the embankment, the one named Roger leaned over towards their leader.

"Well, you found the ravine Nathaniel, now what?"

"Serjeant, over there! Smoke!"

One of the followers pointed off to the right at the column of gray that slowly wound its way into the sky from a small hill-like mound on the jungle floor below. Even at this distance, they could see the golden metallic light glinting in the late afternoon sun. The one called Roger squinted in confusion as he stared at it, until his eyes finally widened in disbelief.

"God... that's not a hill, it's a building? What is it?

Nathaniel's piercing gaze remained fixed on the structure as a faint smile appeared.

"Paradise..."

[Celebel]

Chapter 1: A Thorne in One's Side

March 8, 1885
Stonebriar Manor
Essex County, England


Tick.

Joshua Thorne scowled at the piece of paper, turning it over and checking to see if anything was written on the back side of it. When nothing presented itself, he flipped it back over and began reading through the contents of the letter a second time.

Tick.

He visibly winced at the sound of the clock. It was beginning to get on his nerves. Why did it only seem so loud when he was trying to concentrate?

Tick.

He stared stupidly at the page; the blasted clock was so distracting he had actually managed to lose his place. Frustration mounting, he resumed once again from the start...

Tick.

"Damnable thing! Can't have a bloody moment's peace with it around!"

Thorne seethed a moment before the realization settled on him that he had actually had a verbal outburst over a simple clock. Breathing heavily, he tried to compose himself and finally managed to finish reading the short note this time.

Tick.

The note itself was absurd. Nothing more than letters cut out of various newspapers and pasted onto a page with an ambiguous threat. Not like that was anything new; plenty of people seemed to be quite jealous of his success and position and resorted to unsigned threats. And there had also been that business a few weeks ago involving that girl... Perhaps it made the cowards feel less worthless to take such jabs at their betters like this instead of confronting him directly.

Tick.

And yet the thought did little to relieve the feeling of doom the letter seemed to carry.

Tick.

His temper flared up once more as he crushed the note into a ball and unceremoniously slammed it into the waste basket. The first object of his wrath dealt with, he fixed a nearly maddened glare on the offending clock, as if to silence it with his rage alone.

Tick.

...

Tick.

...

Tick.

Several heated seconds passed, and he finally began to calm down. It was only after the fiery rage abated that he actually looked at the clock face itself and comprehended what time it was. Sighing heavily, he rubbed his brow before putting away a few other items of business.

"Twelve past four... Best get ready, won't be too long before the guests will begin arriving."

Tick.

Rising from his study desk, Thorne made his way out of the room to prepare himself for the party that was supposed to start in less than an hour's time...

Tick.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


March 11
5:00 P.M.

A chilly wind blows through the English countryside as the first of the guests begin to arrive at the estate grounds. It has been a more bitter winter than average, and despite the promise of spring the cold weather has been reluctant to release its grip, but at least it's bright and clear as the afternoon begins its gradual transition towards evening. Overall, it's not too bad a time for a party.

After crossing the small bridge over the creek marking the property's boundary, it isn't long before the manor house proper looms into the arriving guests' view. Even at this distance, it's clear to the eye that Stonebriar Manor is a very, very old construction. The heavy and worn stone brick used in the core part of the building betrays the age of a building centuries older than the newer additions and renovations attached to it.

After sighting the imposing manor house, it only takes a short few minutes to arrive at the front lawn, where each guest is greeted by the attending butler who assists them in exiting their coach before directing them towards the front doors. From there, each guest is in turn greeted once more, only this time by a somewhat elderly butler, likely one of the senior staff members.

Entering into the Grand Hall of the manor proves to be an experience in itself. While the outer side of the manor indicates the age and wear of the building, the interior proves to be the exact opposite. The large two-story room is decorated in a lavish display of wealth bordering on decadence and the room is brightly lit with newly-invented electric lighting and by a roaring fire within the massive fireplace that dominates one side of the chamber. Several young maids scurry about the room, either hurriedly carrying out some last-minute chore or moving into a position to wait on the arriving guests. (And while one may not be especially interested in doing so, it is frankly impossible for one to not note the somewhat... risque nature of their uniforms. Their skirts barely reach past the knees... even if they are covered with stockings!)

And presiding over it all is the host of the party himself, Lord Joshua Thorne. The man is probably in his early 30s, his hair neatly trimmed and his clothes of the latest fashion; overall, he practically radiates the aura of a wealthy and eligible bachelor who is perfectly at home in high society. As each guest enters the Grand Hall, he puts on a smile, probably practiced somewhat yet still surprisingly sincere and genuine, and goes to greet each in turn.


The game has begun. Posting is allowed, but travel is currently restricted.

[LokiOathbreaker]

With the severe clatter of a cane hitting the hard stone ground beneath the stern figure of one Jeremiah Fox, self-made industrialist and millionaire, made itself known as he stepped out of the carriage in which he had arrived. His appearance was as carefully measured as his every step, a fine business suit of dark brown color combined with a suitable top hat that covered his short brown hair, ironically leaving primarily the grey hair at his temples visible and leaving the impression that he was older still than the good four decades of his life would suggest.

There was something unsettling, something bird-like and stilted about his walk as he approached; he clearly moved with some difficulty, hence the cane, but most of all it was the glare on his face that stood out. His piercing gaze left the impression that he had studied whatever it was that he looked at at the moment extensively and had found it wanting.

Still, he graciously accepted the assistance offered, leaving a shilling with each servant who contributed to a more pleasant arrival while raising a high brow at the various frivolously-clad maids as they passed them.

"I see you have spared little expense for this affair," Mr. Fox noted ambivalently, gaze sharp as usual, as he shook his host's hand, leaving it for the other man to interpret whether he meant it as critique or compliment. "You really must tell me the occasion; I had a look at the guest list, you seem to have invited a veritable menagerie of strange local characters."

This post has been edited by LokiOathbreaker: 06 January 2013 - 01:26 PM

[Celebel]

Thorne's smile seems to freeze for a split moment, as if he is unsure how to interpret the remark. Eventually, he seems to settle for treating it like a compliment, at least outwardly.

"Ah, yes well Fox, you know how one has to put on a good show at these things and whatnot. And no particular reason; it's just been a depressingly boring winter and I felt it would do some good if someone threw a decent party after so long hehehe."

Thorne detaches from the conversation momentarily in order to lift a wine glass off the side table and fill it before taking a sip.

"So how are things going in the business sector? Any prospective projects in mind?"

[Mycroft]

Staring at opulent fashion of the manor's interior, the young attorney's lower jaw drops slightly. He had represented people who had been more than well off, once or twice at least, but this was far more extravagant than anything he had seen before.

Collecting himself and straightening his posture after realising his slight slump, he turns to properly greet the host, blushing as his glance passes some of the maids.

"I hope this isn't an intrusion, but a friend handed his invitation over to me, due to work-related issues. I am Smith, Simurgh Smith. What a truly remarkable home you have."

[Celebel]

"Thank you very much, and welcome."

Thorne gives a slight nod in the newcomer's direction.

"And I am sorry to hear that Mr. Fringeworth couldn't make it. Please give him my compliments when next you see him."

[Zeref]

Suddenly the doors burst open and a blinding light shines into the manor as to almost light up even the darkest corners as your eyes adjust you can make out nothing that can be explained as any less but the manliest figure known to mankind, you immediatly know that this could be no other man but the legend known as Charles Norriston, a man who is known for countless adventures and amazing feats you recall how he has a distinct skill of being able to make fire by rubbing two ice cubes together

You hear a thick british accent
I 'ave arrived, I'd introduce meself but we all know that will not be necessary, a'fter all I am the man who walked through the jungles of Brazil wit nothing but me tooth brush and my handkerchief, oh and did I mention, I did it on my hands? *looks up to Lord Josh* Oi! Good to see you again mate I assume things 'ave been well?

[Caidryn]

As if the shadows of the room's electric lights had coalesced and been given form in the doorway, an imposing figure had appeared beneath its arch. Reflected in her eyes could be seen the flicker of the far off roaring fire, appearing as if an ill omen had itself been given will and form.

She wore a regal dress, A deep black set with gold lines racing about, forming intricate and detailed lines about the dress reminiscent of the wing of a great bird. The dress was fitted with white trim, though that trim was far longer at the sleeves, giving it an impression of flowing elegance. Upon the bosom of her dress, which was a deep crimson matched by the petticoat below her dress, was a brooch of fine detail resembling a golden butterfly.

Her hair was a ginger blonde, cut neatly at the front, with two locks let hang free at the sides of her face. Her hair was braided, and had been wrapped into a bun upon the back of her head. A bow adorned with what appeared to be a fresh rose hung just in front of that bun, upon her right side.

Her skin was pale, in elegant contrast with her dress and in compliment to its white trim. Her eyes were a deep and beautiful blue, as beautiful as any gem that might adorn a woman of her stature. Upon her neck she worse a black cloth choker, fitted with the same trim as her dress. Upon that noble face there was a faint smile. Elegant, but seemingly a bit condescending. Something which could be seen bit less discreetly in her eyes.

In her right hand, she held what appeared to be a golden pipe. Though were one allowed to study it in detail, it would likely be better described as an incense burner, for none had ever seen her actually smoke from this pipe. Issuing from this pipe was a faint golden smoke, smelling pleasantly of incense and roses, likely something she's had made specifically to suit her tastes.

Upon her left hand, she wore only a single ornate Golden ring upon her middle finger, the face of which bore an emblem resembling a one winged eagle. One familiar with her work would recognize it as a ring signifying the head of family within her most famous works When the Banshee Cry.

Overall, the impression given by the figure was regal beauty. Not one that called notice to her form as a woman, but instead seemed to boast of a pride and bearing fit for a princess. That of someone that stands above the average man. A look that would not have been out of place at a grand ball.


"I see you've prepared for the coming of your guests quite admirably, Thorne. A display worthy of praise, to say the least."

Beatrice de Luca, well known author in the now rising mystery genre, let out a laugh that was certainly too indiscreet for one of her bearing. Playful, condescending, and jovial, all at once, would have been a description for such a laugh. Of course, this was no surprise for any familiar with this woman. As her success as an author had grown, she had adopted a persona which she referred to as 'The Golden Witch Beatrice' which she had since used for any and all public appearances. Both her author insert within her books as well as her public face, this persona had been ascribed to be a large part of her rising notoriety as an author as well as the success of her career.

Giving an elegant and well practiced curtsy, she addressed the lord of the manor before stepping entirely within the room, a grin still worn upon her face.

"Allow me, the Golden Witch Beatrice, to thank you for granting me an invitation to this event."

This post has been edited by Caidryn: 06 January 2013 - 05:00 PM

[Celebel]

At the outburst caused by Norriston's entry, Thorne smiles widely, though a careful observer would note the somewhat forced nature of the smile, betrayed by the slight straining at the edges. He was probably concerned about the mahogany doors that had just been slammed into the walls...

"Norriston, you made it! How have you been? Last I heard you were off to wrestle crocodiles or something equally crazy in one of the God-forsaken backwater countries?"

As the guests begin to mingle and the newest arrival enters, Thorne moves across the hall to greet her. Giving a polite bow, he proceeds to take Miss de Luca's hand and kisses it lightly.

"Thank you for the compliments, but I am afraid this display still pales in comparison to your own loveliness. I do sincerely hope you find the evening to be enjoyable."

Thorne smiles, his gaze lingering on the lady perhaps a tiny moment too long, before returning once more to entertaining the other guests.

[Caidryn]

Beatrice the Golden Witch gave no reply to Lord Thorne's compliments, other than perhaps a slight widening of her grin. There was simply no need to. Men becoming enraptured by the beauty of a witch was no rare event to be made a fuss of.

Wordlessly, she simply allowed the Lord to return to his business, never losing the grin she'd worn since her entrance, and allowed herself to be ushered by the servants to the accommodations made for the guests. Her movement was elegant and graceful, leaving only a small wisp of golden smoke and the smell of roses in her wake.

This post has been edited by Caidryn: 06 January 2013 - 02:50 PM

[Mycroft]

The attorney stares, mouth wide agape, as the manor's guests introduce themselves. All of them wellknown in their own regard, an (in)famous industrialist, a widely celebrated author and a renowned adventurer. In this company he felt very small, his accomplishments meager in comparison.

"Fringeworth.. What an event to miss out on."

[LokiOathbreaker]

"Always, my young fellow." The businessman's eyes continued to bore into those of Thorne, coal black and uncompromising as always. "But none I care to discuss at the moment. The evening is early yet and you have other guests to greet. I'll hold you up no longer." With that, Mr. Fox lifted his top-hat briefly and made his way to a nearby armchair, allowing himself to an opportunity to rest, his walking cane laid over his knees.

The grand entrances from the eccentric adventurer and supposed thaumaturge both did not went unnoticed, his choice of seating giving Jeremiah a rather generous view of the entrance and those who approached, but if the older man was surprised or impressed, he certainly gave no indication of it, his gaze briefly resting upon the rather glamorous de Luca woman -- rather than an appreciative one, it seemed more as if he was measuring her, perhaps sensing the keen mind beneath the extravagant exterior.

Neither Norriston nor Smith received more than a cursory glance, though the latter at least was apparently deemed worth a curt nod of acknowledgement.

Spoiler

/OOC So, as a total newcomer to these boards I should probably say ... hi! I'm a person Celebel picked up somewhere along the side of the road. Perhaps a bit old and torn but still useful to keep around. Maybe. Please don't kill the crotchety miser too quickly!

This post has been edited by LokiOathbreaker: 06 January 2013 - 03:20 PM

[Caidryn]

Beatrice had noticed Fox's subtle glance as it had taken her in. It seemed by her eyes he was weighing her mind, rather than body, upon his internal scale. How rare that a man should see, or even seek to comprehend, anything more than what they are shown at point blank. Though nearly imperceptible, she gave the businessman a small nod of recognition, in respect for this rare event.

This post has been edited by Caidryn: 06 January 2013 - 03:33 PM

[Tuj]

As though summoned into existence from the very air, a young woman of smooth white skin appeared beside the master of the house. Her attire was servantile, but unlike that of the other maids seen thus far, the large, navy blue overcoat worn over her slender frame bred reservation, offering only the slightest hint of ankles before ending it's descent.

Though it was not her clothes which demanded attention, but instead her stern, slender face, and the expression it bore as the crushing weight of that false smile, armed in the cold blue steel of her sharp eyes, bore down upon the now seemingly much smaller form of her master. Still, the woman's movements as she offered the man a small morsel from atop the serving dish she carried showed nothing of the contempt in her eyes, and were instead precise, fluid, and held a pristine elegance that bordered on, nay, defined perfection.

As such, there could be no doubt as to the position this woman held: She was irrefutably the head of female staff, despite appearing to be quite young for such a post, approaching yet clearly yet to see her third decade upon this earth. Though, if youth was to hold beauty, the woman seemed to be taking some pains to remove it in favor of authority. It was rather sad, really, as the young head maid appeared as though she'd be quite pretty if she were to let her cream-colored hair out of that no doubt intentionally unattractive bun, which clearly wavey hair made somewhat unruly, markedly the only thing about her appearance which was not remarkably straight-laced and proper.

Having offered the morsel to her master was, of course, only another excuse to emphasize her presence in his eyes, allowing her to use the small bow of proper servantile etiquette to bear the weight of her gaze upon him even further, and for a moment, even the agreeable smile left her face, creating a daunting visage of steeled anger. Upon once more righting herself, however, her face had smoothed out... far more than expected. When she longer bore the cold, judgmental expression, her facial features showed a smoothness in her cheeks and sharpness to her eyes that one would never see upon a full-blooded Englishmen, and were far more reminiscent of the people in countries to the far East.

The woman was of mixed blood. Perhaps that was why she was in such a profession. Still, by the display earlier, it seemed wiser to ere on the side of caution when it came to broaching such subjects with this woman.

Having finished admonishing her master's lecherous stares, the head maid, her plate now bereft of items, placed it against her lap as she turned and bowed her respect to the less familiar faces in the room.

"Most esteemed guests, I must apologize for my rudeness. I am Miss Erika Carver, the head of female staff and housekeeping at this humble manor. It is my sincerest wish that you all come to enjoy this visit."

This post has been edited by Triahna: 06 January 2013 - 03:43 PM

[Dagger]

All of a sudden, you get an uneasy feeling that someone or something is watching you. As you turn around, you notice a creepy old man is staring at you with a large grin.

...Hehehehehe

Whoa! Where did this guy come from? You are almost positively certain that you didn't notice him in the room when you first scoped it out. Your initial thought about this peculiar gentleman is that he appears to look older than Methuselah’s mother. No, seriously…you cannot confidently determine the age of this man, but you suspect it’s anywhere between 50 and 500. Anyhow, he has a long, unkempt beard that looks like it hasn't been touched in decades. Chuck Norris may have a fist behind his beard, but this guy certainly is harvesting some kind of infestation behind it. He is wearing a cheap suit that is tattered, dirty, and smells of booze.

“Hallo, kimers an' chiel. Yer Late! Hehehe Allow me to introdoooooooce mahself. Mahnameis Dr. Jenkins. Yorick Jenkins. Th' yorick jenkins. *hiccup*”


He seems to have a strong accent (perhaps Scottish? You haven’t really the slightest idea though). You can make out his name at least and what appears to be a greeting. However, you really do not like the way he is staring in your direction. Or at least you think he is looking at you. It’s hard to tell with that lazy eye of his.

“Dooyoo have meny yobs? Ah have meny yobs. Ah am a surgeon by day an' a gravedigger by nicht. Ah also loch tae hunt in mah spare time. Business ken be slow, but tis nawt tomb bad. Hahahahaha a lil graveyard humor there.”

Okay, this guy is starting to creep you out now as he is laughing at his own jokes and grinning widely at you, showing a lack of teeth for the most part. It’s bad enough that you can barely make out what he’s saying. You’re not sure if he is just drunk, senile, or both. You just know that you feel rather awkward now having met him. It is troubling to know that you will have to spend your time here under the same roof with him.

Ah am lookin' forward to havin' tatties an' neeps wi' ye all. Heh Heh Heh

[Celebel]

At the newest arrival, Thorne stares for a moment, then seems to completely freeze as his brain shuts down trying to process the presence of Jenkins. Eventually, it seems to reboot under the conclusion that if he's here in the manor, then he must have been invited and should be here, despite the strangeness. Yes, clearly there must have been some reason for inviting this odd fellow.

"Ah... yes, welcome, mister uh... Jenkins? I do hope you have a... splendid time at this little gathering..."

He reaches out awkwardly to shake the man's hand, as if it's an automated response that he's highly reluctant to initiate. After the handshake, he absent-mindedly wipes his palm on the back of his pants as soon as he thinks the guests aren't looking.

Thorne then proceeds to cast his gaze about with a slightly desperate look in his eye, as if trying to find something to distract from the spectacle. Luckily for him, one of the guests happens to be remarking on the massive and imposing portrait hanging over the fireplace. Without wasting time, Thorne rushes over and enters the conversation with a little more than just a bit of forced cheerfulness.

"Ah yes, I see you're admiring the portrait of Godwin Thorne, the clan founder. Godwin was granted this land to build a manor on by the king centuries ago along with the noble title. This hall we're standing in along with the old tower were the original construction even."

[Hashio]

A gentlemen wearing very neat and presentable attire quietly walks into the manor while adjusting his reading glasses. “This is quite a luxurious home” The Reverend instantly notices the questionable outfits the maids were wearing. He silently thought to himself “Certainly this is an inappropriate choice of outfit to have your female servants wear. “ He sighs “I am here to look for the host not maids” He continues to look for the host of this “Party” so he could introduce himself. He found the host talking to other guest it would seem.

Hello Thorne, I am Bartholomew Green the one that contacted you. He smiles gently. Thank you kindly for letting me attend your dinner party. Do you have dinner parties like this often with this many guest?

[Mycroft]

Standing near a door-way, the attorney quietly observes manor's guests. The two new arrivals make him raise an eyebrow as they certainly doesn't seem to fit in with the early arrivals, not that he himself fit in.

"What an odd fellow, though he certainly seems jovial.. Perhaps he's tonight's entertainment." He remarks upon Yorick's entrance.

"Old ethical standards still have a certain hold in the older generation it seems." He mutters as the neatly dressed gentleman rushes past the maids, towards the host.

[Celebel]

Thorne turns towards the reverend, a brief look of confusion crossing his features in the process. Another guest that he couldn't remember inviting? Luckily, this time memory flagged the face quickly enough to avoid a second awkward greet.

"Reverend, glad to see you could make time in your schedule to come. I understand there were some matters you wished to speak to me about, yes? Rest assured, I shall make all the time that is needed for your concerns, though at this exact moment I have certain obligations."

Thorne waves his hand to gesture towards the room at large, and indicating the entire party by implication.

"But please, do enjoy yourself in the meantime, perhaps a drink?"

His hand moves to indicate a silver tray of drinks carried by one of the maids, this one a particularly pretty girl with long raven-black hair that fairly shimmers as she moves about to serve the guests.