The Lunacy of the Guilloux Mansion Playground Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Here is the first post of The Lunacy of the Guilloux Mansion Playground.

The discussion thread is separate, so, as we all know, please direct all questions, comments, and concerns, basically anything out of character to THIS PAGE.



------


It ached.

Oh, how it ached. It creaked and groaned with the harsh winds of the frigid, swampy Pale, shuddering with each gust like a child in the cold. Freezing rain pattered against its warm shingles, sliding down the roof to greet the equally cold ground.

It yearned.

Years had passed, repairs had been made. The fires that had broken out, scorching its beloved halls, revealing its secrets within, murdering its precious mistress, have long been quenched. The one who's fingertips brushed its inner walls lightly, murmuring softly to it was but a ghost of a ghost.

It hungered.

As the victims drew closer, it exhaled in anticipation, the windows peering out like eyes in all directions. Watching.

The Guilloux Mansion would again taste blood.


---


CRACK!

The Dunmer cried out in pain as the whip licked at her arm, a purple whelp rising up where she had been snapped. The hand that reached to soothe the wound with a spell was also whipped.

"Leave it. And hurry up!" The Breton woman snapped. "This place is a mess! Don't heal yourself until you're finished! It better sparkle before the guests arrive!"

"Yes, muthsera." The Dunmer woman said, her voice edged with the throbbing pain of her wounds. Blood beaded up on her arm and hands. As her mistress walked away, heels clacking down the wooden floor of the hallway, she uttered a small curse. Foggy sunlight streamed through the windows momentarily, lighting up the floor of the dim kitchen momentarily. A moment later, a Breton man walked in with a large tub of water.

"What did you do?" Sweat glistened on his pale, freckled brow. His fiery red hair was matted with sweat as he set the large cauldron of water onto the hook. He started the fire with a fire spell, the logs catching easily after dying overnight.

"Nothing, Antoine. I just wasn't quick enough with my scrubbing."

"The floor looks great."

"She didn't think so."

"Help me with this. The baby is craving my stew. Again." the cook said. "Quickly, Anaya."

The maid fished the proper ingredients out, jumping as a bellow was heard from outside.

---

The stablehand cried out as the curly-headed Breton woman whipped him with her small whip. The wiry man, not yet twenty, cowered on his hands and knees, suffering blow after blow.

"Madame Belladonna! Please!" He begged, his pale face turning red from the effort of not crying. She relented, panting.

"You groom those horses properly! You hear me?" She side-arms one last blow, striking his across his left thigh. He cried out again, sobbing.

"Yes, Madame!"

"The carriages will be here any moment! I'm sure at least one will have their own horse. You clean that stable out!" She pressed a hand to her engorged belly, the infant inside kicking, alerted at the woman's heightened anger.

"Shhhhh, little one. Mama's a little stressed. Don't worry. We'll be fine." She turned sharply at the stablehand.

"Direct them when they come in, Jon. And clean yourself up." She whirled to the sprawling three-story mansion, black velvet dress flowing behind her. As she closed the door, a carriage rumbled up, piquing the boy's interest. As it came to a rest, the boy timidly walked up, his thin frame pushed by a sudden gust of wind. Clouds rolled in, darkening the skies significantly. He bobbed his blonde head.

"Rain's coming. right. Better get inside. Madame's in the study room, first door on the right." he said to the traveler. "Best get in 'fore it starts pouring."

A cold drop of rain hit the traveler's nose.

[Callidus Thorn]

Enarvy looked out the window of the carriage as it trundled along, watching the harsh, snow-covered landscape roll by, trying to ignore the frequent bouncing of the carriage. While he had told his associates that he was going on a trip, he had kept to himself the necessity of it. He could not turn down the possibility of a windfall of gold, he owed money and needed more for his research. The invitation then, from another old associate of his, was simply too good to pass up. As the mansion came into view, Enarvy spent a moment studying it before looking away disinterestedly. It was only then that something caught his eye, not so much something he saw, but something none the less. For a brief moment he had the impression of malice emanating from the mansion, a foolish notion soon dispelled simply be looking at the mansion again. There was certainly nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary, so he simply put it down to the idle fancies of a mind bored and weary from travel.

It wasn't long before the carriage rattled to a halt, and none too soon looking at the weather, changing even as Enarvy watched it. He smoothed his robes, grabbed the pack which contained all he'd thought he'd need, then stepped out of the carriage. He was greeted by a thin youth, with more than a little in the way of Breton features, who smelled of the stables, and had hair to match. "Rain's coming. right. Better get inside. Madame's in the study room, first door on the right." he said to the traveler. "Best get in 'fore it starts pouring." Enarvy didn't bother to reply, not in the habit of thanking the help. He frowned in annoyance as a single frigid drop of rainwater struck his nose, and stepped inside, moving straight to the first door on the right. He knocked twice, to announce his presence rather than to request entry, then opened the door to the study.

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Dec 11 2013, 09:20 AM

[Colonel Mustard]

Just a few minutes from the mansion, Aranios felt delicate, chill fingers of rain on the back of his neck.

He muttered a curse, more out of annoyance than anything, pulling up his hood and pressing his heels into the flanks of his horse as encouragement to pick up the pace. As a steady drizzle began to fall, Aranios' horse trotted along the road towards the house.

Not long afterwards, the rain still pattering against his cloak, he arrived at the mansion. It was an impressive building, imposing and magnificent. As he dismounted, Aranios found himself picking out entry points and escape routes across its front, out of habit more than anything else. He was, after all, invited. Unravel the clues and find a chest of gold; sounded like fun.

There was a young man waiting out in the rain, and he hurried forward to take Aranios' horse as he dismounted.

"Make sure he's stabled," Aranios said, flipping him a septim and shooting him a grin. "Good man."

He headed through the front doors without further invitation, a swagger in his step. Once indoors, he removed his cloak with a slight flourish and handed it to the Dunmer maidservant waiting for guests, to hang it up.

"Where might our host be found?" he asked her as the cloak was handed over. Shaven head, he noticed, and pretty thin, too. Looked whipped, too, from the way she avoided eye contact in a way that went beyond merely deferential.

"The study room, sera," the girl curtsied. "First door on the right."

"Thank you kindly," Aranios replied. He sauntered over to the indicated door and knocked.

[SilenceFalls]

The rain was pouring down now as the carriage wheels rolled through the muddy path to the manor.

Its Breton passenger pulled his treated leather hood tighter around his head. The garb would be adequate to keep both wet and cold out, and his vast experience in being outdoors meant he wouldn't be bothered by it too much.

His hand wandered absent-mindedly to his satchel. In it, he mentally re-read the letter he'd received from a family friend that he'd not seen in years. An eccentric host was having a most strange kind of soiree. The winner would be awarded with the chest of gold should they figure out it's location. Otherwise it was free room and board for a few nights, in a part of Skyrim he'd never traveled that far too.

Jeanstar Lelltal considered the braids in his hair that were fading from an auburn brown into grey, and he hadn't even passed his fortieth year. He wouldn't be able to fight or travel forever...but if the money was as good as the letter claimed, he wouldn't have to worry about that much longer.

The driver of the carriage drew his cloak and hood tighter as he called out over the sound of the rain, pointing to the Manor. Jeanstar gazed at it, the Guillox Mansion. Lights from the windows could be seen faintly, and the torches illuminating the stables were a bit more clear. A welcome sight in this weather.

In a few minutes they arrived, and Jeanstar took his pack from the carriage, and handed the driver a few septims as a tip.

"When it comes time to leave, let me know!" The driver smiled. "I'll take you all the way back to High Rock if you want."

Lelltal smiled softly back at him. "Perhaps." he said quietly.

I already have the route memorized, plus I might just be able to buy the horse and carriage... He thought.

A fellow Breton approached him, wearing grey and smelling like the horses he apparently tended too. His voice was raised ever so slightly to be heard over the rain, which seemed to fill him with a type of dread. Whether the rain, or raising his voice he couldn't tell.

He pointed to the front entrance and told him to enter the foyer, and that he would be directed to the host. Following his instructions, he was greeted by a most curious sight. A Dunmer Maiden.

He'd never seen one before, though had read and heard about them. The ashen grey skin, the crimson eyes that stared a timid hole at his muddied boots. It was her demeanor, and not her race that told him that she was not the host.

"G-good evening, Muthsera. Others have arrived, and we are awaiting the rest. You will be waiting in the study, at the first door on the right." She spoke to him.

It took him a moment to realize that he was staring at her.

"Oh...yes. I see. Thank you." He replied as he removed his hood and cloak and she took them from him. He continued over to the door, and knocked lightly, feeling the knob at the same time and entered.

[King Of Beasts]

Percival surveyed his surroundings on his way to the mansion. The young breton man shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the carriage, and sighed in slight irritation when a few wet drops fell from the sky before a heavy downpour of rain began to fall. He hugged himself and shivered. Surely he couldn't keep warm in his current garments. The thin, tear filled cloth pressed against his pale skin as the rain soaked his only pair of shirt and pants, and his shaggy reddish brown hair stuck to his forehead and the upper half of the back of his neck. He looked down at his bare feet, then then looked back up and continued to survey his surroundings with a bright look in his steel-gray eyes. Despite the cold rain drenching his only set of clothing, and the repulsive weather, he kept his spirits up. He was excited to be invited to a party, this was the first party he'd ever been invited to, and it filled him with excitement that somebody had wanted to invite a filthy young beggar to a fancy party like the one at the mansion.

A wide grin spread across Percival's face as the carriage approached the mansion, and the cart abruptly halted to a stop. He shivered and then hopped off the cart. He got a slight look of disdain on his face as he felt the mud squish beneath his feet, dirtying them in the process. He didn't want to make a bad impression to the wealthy folks living in the mansion, and tracking mud into the estate surely wouldn't make for a good impression to the people living here. Percival tried not to get his feet too muddy as he walked towards the mansion. He approached the stable boy, his own tall for looking down at the teenager. He gave the boy a warm smile, then promptly made his way in the direction the young boy had pointed.

He looked up at the outside of the mansion in awe. A feeling of anxiety began to overwhelm him. The host must be really rich, and Percival wasn't necessarily an expert when it came to common manners. He continued to stare in awe briefly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the soggy invitation delivered to him by the courier. He handed the invitation to the dunmer woman at the front door, then promptly entered the mansion. He wiped his feet on the mat and looked around in amazement.

"Wow..." He said absentmindedly to himself. The young breton man was quite used to seeing mansions from the outside. The rich folk would always slam the doors of their large, well furnished homes in his face when he would come to the door and beg for money. Another realization crashed down on his conscience. The chest of gold being offered to the victor of whatever activity was being held at this party. He realized he had a chance of winning. Though it was a slight one, it was still there. All of his suffering would end. No more going to bed on an empty stomach. No more being stuck wearing the same pair of ragged clothes that he barely fit in. No more sleeping on the cold hard ground. No more begging, and best of all, no more being avoided by the people he yearned to socialize with. He might even be able to buy a big mansion like this one! His eyes lit up with hope and joy at his slight chance of getting the chest of gold, and even if he didn't win, it was still nice to know he was wanted at a party. He excitedly glanced around at the other people in the room, and tried his best to smooth out his dirty clothes and hair.

[Rohirrim]

Sarde looked out at the mist rising from the fens around the manor. He raised the brightly colored hood of his tunic about his head, when a drop of rain fell on his nose. He glared at it, irritated. He quickened his steps, moving into the manor yard.

Sarde saw a maiden, a fellow Dunmer, in the yard. "Hello, miss. Is this the Guillox Mansion?"

"Yes, Muthsera. Let me take your bag." She took Sarde's small satchel, slinging it over her shoulder and leading him inside.

He looked around. The decor was mind-numbingly drab. "It seems some of the Red Mountain ash drifted to Skyrim, eh?" He frowned when the maid stared at him blankly.

"Oh, ha-ha. I see, Muthsera; how funny," she said in a monotone.

He shrugged and stood waiting for the host, flipping a septim on his thumb.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Belladonna looked up, her wiry, curly hair pulled into a loose bun. Thin ringlets hung about her face, her large brown eyes searching the face of the one who disturbed her reading. A smile spread on her thin, pale lips.

"Welcome," she said in a thick High-Rock accent."To Guilloux Mansion. I am Belladonna Guilloux. Sit." She motioned to a worn red high-backed chair, the plush still stiff from misuse. It creaked when the robed Dunmer sat. Not long afterwards, another knock on the door, follow promptly with Anaya opening the door, apologizing to Belledonna's frowning face.

"Be quick about that door!" She scolded. The Dunmer dipped her head in apology, keeping her eyes on the floor as the Imperial man sauntered in.

"Welcome," she said, her tone warmer as she addressed the tall Imperial. "I am Belladonna Guilloux. All will be explained shortly."

One after another, the five travelers filled the room, with the last being ushered in by Anaya. The maid quietly closed the door after Antoine came through the door. Both servants folded their hands primly in front of their bodies and cast their eyes on the floor.

"Is this it?" Belladonna asked. "Anaya."

"Yes, muthsera. There are no other carriages en route at this time."

"I know I sent out more letters than this. Their loss. Sit. Everyone sit. Yes, even you, beggar." She said to Percival. "Don't worry about the mud. Anaya will tend to it once we're finished here."

The rain darkened the study significantly, causing the Dunmer servant to begin lighting the lanterns. Rain pattered heavily outside, beating on the window with an angry ferocity. Belladonna smirked, letting a short, amused breath out of her nose.

"Well, any stragglers will certainly drown. Welcome." she said, addressing the group. The room lit up more, the lanterns all lit. Anaya held one up by Belladonna, her eyes trained on the boots of the newcomers.

"I am Belladonna Guilloux. As I'm certain you know, and if you do not know, you are very slow and in the wrong place, I have called each of you here with the promise of a chest full of gold." She surveyed the group, her brown eyes black in the lantern light.

"But that gold comes at a price. A mutual associate of all of yours have passed away. And that associate was my father. Petra Guilloux. some of you knew him as Peter, Some as Arcenne, and others by a name he did not give me. Anaya, the portrait."

Anaya lit a bright light in her hands and tossed it at a dark portrait on the wall, hung beside the door. It was a portrait of a mousy Breton man in his late forties. A streak of silver shot through the crown of raven hair atop his head. Even in the picture you could tell he didn't bother much with brushing the messy curls. Lively brown eyes, with a hint of mischief, conveyed accurately on canvas, stared back at the travelers.

"He died six months ago, doing research. He was much older than he was in the picture, of course, but I'm sure you all recognize him just fine."

The light faded.

"Now, it was his dying wish that I distribute the money to the most deserving individual. He had difficulty choosing who that was, as you all know of his indecision." She chuckled.

"So I've come up with something rather mundane, but easy. Find the chest of gold. The first one to find it and bring it to my attention, keeps it. Simple as that." She gave them a thin smile.

"Take all the time you need. Anaya will show you to your rooms, as well as give you the tour. Any questions?"

[King Coin]

He woke up when the gentle motion of his horse stopped. “Hmm?” He grunted to himself. The world still spun in lazy circles, so he hadn’t been out for more than a couple of hours. A steady, cold rain fell from the sky. This change in weather was unwelcome to the Argonian.

“I said are you lost sir. The road is that way.”

His eyes locked onto the youth that addressed him, not bothering to sit up. “Guillox Mansion,” he rasped. His horse probably wandered here because she smelled the stable.

“Oh uh, you are a guest? My apologies. I’ll stable your horse.”

Boots didn’t react to this good news except try to dismount from his horse. A boot caught in a stirrup, and he fell into a fresh mud puddle. He waved the stable hand away when he tried to help him up. The world was spinning too fast now. He sat in the puddle, mud and dirty water getting into his already travel worn clothes. After a few moments, and a fortifying sip from a flask, he stood on his own and let himself inside the mansion, dripping water and tracking in mud.

“Do you have an invitation?” Boots turned and looked. The stable hand had followed him to the house.

After digging through three different pockets, he produced a soggy, torn, stained, but genuine invitation. With that, the stable hand directed him to the study. He started making his way to the study, grabbing onto anything he could the steady himself.

“I said to the right!”

He reversed his direction leaving muddy boot prints on the shiny clean floor.

He let himself into the study, stumbling on the threshold, in time to hear the Breton woman ask “Any questions?”

“Where’s the gold?” he blurted before taking a pull from his flask. There were more people here than he anticipated. In fact, he was only anticipating himself. “Who are they?”

This post has been edited by King Coin: Dec 12 2013, 09:42 PM

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Belladonna let out a slight groan.

"You must be Boots. I trust you found the mansion easily enough. Right, well, to give you the shortened version, my father has passed,and he instructed me to give the gold to his most deserving," she gave him a disapraging look. " associate. So, in short, Petra Guilloux's money will be going to whomever finds it first. Anaya."

The Dunmer stepped forward, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"Madame."

"Those floors are absolutely filthy."

"Yes, muthsera." Anaya said timidly and quickly disappeared. Belladonna gently patted her belly and grabbed a lanter off the wall.

"Follow me. Antoine, dinner."

"Will be ready at seven bells sharp."

"Good. Dismissed."

The Breton opened the large oak door, leaving it open for Belladonna.

"Follow me, gentlemen. Since the hallways have been dirtied, I'll give you the tour myself." She walked out, the group following behind. The walls were a deep red, with dark wooden paneling at the bottom. The floor were an equally dark wood with a dull shine.

"Guilloux Mansion," Belladonna said with a slight flair. "Has been in my family for five-hundred years. The Guillouxs have a rich history." Her heels thunked sharply on the wood, her black gown rustling. She gestured to several painting on the wall, of various family members, all with the same curly raven hair and intense brown eyes. She stopped at the end of the hallway, at the base of a set of stairs and turned to face them.

"We have our hands in several businesses, including, but not limited to, fur trade, logging, and of course, mining." Behind the group, at the entrance of the house, Anaya began scrubbing the floors of the muck and dirt.

Belladonna continued. "The first room you have seen is the study. The room across from that is the Sitting room. The sitting room is currently being refurnished, so do not go in there." She pointed to her left, ust behind them. "The second room on your right is the Trophy Room. Do not touch the mounts. Across from there is the Dining room. The dining room leads to the kitchen. And to my left," She gestured accordingly.

"Is a room only I have the key to. Do not attempt to go in there. Any questions before we move on to the second floor?"

[King Coin]

Boots was unperturbed by Belladonna’s reaction to his arrival. “Actually I did have some trouble finding the mansion, the directions on my invitation lead to a cliff. Must have been an honest mistake.”

Then the tour started. Belladonna proudly lead the group through the house filling them in with little details on her family that Boots didn’t listen to. He drank steadily from his flask, and kept close to a wall for support. He left a trail of mud where he walked.

Any questions before we move on to the second floor?

“Yeah. Where can I pee?”

This post has been edited by King Coin: Dec 13 2013, 12:39 AM

[SilenceFalls]

Jeanstar's eyes squinted ever so slightly, partially from age and low lighting and partially from recognition.

Petra Guillox! He of course recognized the face right away, the name he did not until she spoke the name Arcenne. He had dealings with his own employer, Lord Betianne in the remote hamlet that he resided in High Rock.

Jeanstar followed a trade that the locals called Arbalest in their local Breton tongue. More commonly known as a Crossbowman in the rest of the Empire. His specific duties were a Travel Guard in a small coterie that joined Lord Betianne when he went abroad, or protected his valued guests in his name. Arcenne being one of them.

He had joined Arcenne on perhaps two dozen or so trips over the last two decades. The leagues and time hadn't made them close friends, perhaps fond acquaintances, and he felt a passing sense of loss at the news of the man's passing.

While the whole situation sounded a bit outlandish, he knew Arcenne was rich enough to afford to be called eccentric. One more game to pass the time sounded just liked him, and he could swear his portrait gave him a knowing wink in the lantern's jumping flame.

"Madame Guillox." He started sporting a thick Breton brogue. "I'll not say that the news of the gold isn't a welcome bit, but the passing of your Da is not. I won't say I knew him well, just that I knew him well enough. May he be in Aetherius an hour before the Daedra finds out he's dead." he offered with a local blessing.

[Callidus Thorn]

Enarvy had been growing suspicious since the moment he'd met Belladonna Guilloux, and by the end of the first floor tour he was certain something was wrong. Why would a wealthy woman expecing guests have such poorly treated furniture? Why would the refurnishment of the living room not be finished before the guests arrive? Was there no man of the house? And if so, why was he not there to greet the guests? And why would a heavily pregnant woman decide to invite five complete strangers into her home to tear the place up looking for a chest of gold? Maybe he had simply read too many mysteries, but there seemed to be more than a few thing that were a little strange.

And the appearance of the others did not reassure him. Two of them were clearly scum, the beggar and the drunkard, The Breton he couldn't read, but if nothing else seemed polite enough, while the Imperial looked a little dangerous, and Enarvy had spotted the subtle sheen of magic on the rings he wore. And the other Dunmer was no better, openly carrying a sword as if he expected trouble. But what concerned Enarvy most was that he and Petra had not parted on the best of terms. Their business deal had gone bad, and both of them had lost coin on it. He wondered how the others had known Petra...

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Dec 13 2013, 11:43 AM

[Elisabeth Hollow]

"The urn," Belladonna said to Boots, "Is in the sitting room." She gestured to the appropriate door. "Don't get lost. Come upstairs when you're finished."

She led the rest of the group upstairs, gesturing as she spoke. "The three doors to your right are entrances to the bedrooms. All of them have rooms for bathing." She opened the door to one and walked to the bed and touched a string. She gently pulled on it, turning to the group.

"If, at any time in the night, you need assistance, this will summon one of my servants. Only call if you are in need of assistance. Do not, I repeat, do NOT use this to summon my servants for sex. They are under strict orders to not engage in such activities. Now," She moved the group to the hall. "This door," she pointed to her left, "Leads to the library. It is quite large. it takes up half of this floor. Any questions before me move to the final floor?"

[Rohirrim]

"Yes, Madame Guilloux. What kinds of books might be in your library?"

[Elisabeth Hollow]

"The books here range from daedra worship to the mundanes of history. My family has a wide range of interests between us. My own father restored the library after the mansion sat for thirty years. Most of the books now are his and mine. Whatever could be salvaged after the fire is in cases. Who wants to pick their room?"

[Colonel Mustard]

So Arcenne was dead? Pity, really. Aranios and the slightly eccentric Breton had never been too close, but he had enjoyed his company and the man had been useful as a contact and a supplier of certain goods over the course of Aranios' career. Really, he wasn't surprised that this treasure hunt had been his idea; it was exactly his style.

He listened carefully to the explanations given by Belladonna, and out of spite and curiosity, he decided he would pay a visit to the sitting room later on. The woman was an irritable, vicious battleaxe, that much was inherently obvious, and she had a stick shoved so far up her backside that it was actually amusing. He resisted the urge to snort in derision when she insisted that the servants were not there for intercourse; what was here that was worth taking? That rake-thin, whipped dunmer girl? The stablehand? Aranios was a man of more refined tastes, and neither of them were interesting to him.

The inside of his left wrist itched. Best not to scratch; didn't want to draw attention to it, even with the sleeves.

As Belladonna gave her little talk, Aranios surveyed the group. The Argonian was intoxicated, drunk and seemed to have found his way here through a lucky accident rather than intent (directions to a cliff! He'd have to try that on one of his fellows when he got back; that was the sort of gallows humour they'd see the funny side of), and Aranios decided that he was most likely no threat. One of the Dunmer openly wore a sword, and the other contented himself to fancy clothing and was aged, which told Aranios little aside from the fact that one of them had a length of pointy metal. Two Bretons, one a skinny little pauper type and the other with a haircut that didn't seem to be particularly refined or urban; either he was as wild as he suggested or so boring that he thought his hairstyle would make him interesting.

In short, he knew absolutely nothing about these people or what they were capable of. That sort of thing made him uncomfortable.

"Who wants to pick their room?"

"I wouldn't mind doing that, Lady Guilloux," Aranios said, adding the title as a little extra flattery. He wanted somewhere where he could enter and exit without being easily seen, more out of habit than anything else, and wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to get the right room like the one he was being presented with.

[Callidus Thorn]

As much as the library appealed to him, Enarvy dragged his attention to more important matters. Three doors suggested three rooms, and if so he didn't want to be stuck sharing a room with the beggar or the drunkard. He was about to speak when the Imperial beat him to it, and Enarvy waited a moment before speaking.

"Nor would I, Madame."

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Belladonna gave them both a wry smile. "Hmmm. Well, let me mention that there are also rooms upstairs, though they are a tad more dusty, besides my own room. Most of the rooms are very similar, though one does not have a washroom upstairs. It is the nursery. That room is also off limits. It is finished, finally, and I don't want mud and dirty hands all over it."

Light footsteps were heard, and a voice echoed up the stairs.

"Muthsera, Miss Angelina insists on seeing you!" Anaya frantically called up the steps. Belladonna's lips pursed as a blonde head bobbed up the stairs. The cornflower blue dress of the younger woman rustled as she bounced past the men and straight into the arms of Belladonna.

"Cousin!" Angelina cried out before kissing the other woman's cheek. "You've started without me. You told me it was next week this was happening!"

"Yes, well, I did for a reason." Belladonna sniffed.

"Good thing I can tell when you're lying. did you hide the gold yet? Oh I'm so excited to see who the winner will be!" She looked at the group and looked each member up and down. "Uncle knew interesting people, hmm?"

"Angelina!" Belladonna snapped at the blonde, who remained unfazed as she inspected Sarde's swords.

"These are really good work! My Da owns a smithing shop in each city. Can I hold one?" She asked.

"No! The tour isn't over yet!" Belladonna snapped. "Does anyone else have any questions?"

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Dec 17 2013, 03:14 AM

[Callidus Thorn]

Enarvy had been about to reply, when she turned up. A blonde woman in a blue dress had virtually walked over the Dunmer servant to make an entrance, and he took a moment to appreciate the sight. A cousin of Madame Guiloux apparently, but any thought of her usefulness was soon dispelled. It seemed she'd been kept away during preparations, perhaps Belladonna didn't trust her young and exuberant cousin with the secret. Perhaps it was something else, and Enarvy added a mental note to the rest.

He soon lost interest in the girl when she showed an interest in the other Dunmer's swords. And returned his attention to his request.

"Not quite a question, Madame, but I would like to request the use of one of the rooms on this floor, for the proximity to the library. If that would be permissible."

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Dec 17 2013, 10:31 PM

[Elisabeth Hollow]

"Of course." Belladonna nodded. "All rooms on this floor have washrooms."

"Did you hide it where you said you were going to?" Angelina interjected. "Near the-"

"SHHH!" The younger woman cut off when Belladonna covered her mouth. Angelina looked bewildered and yanked the woman's hand from her mouth.

"I'm joking! That's no fun if I give the surprise away at the beginning!" Angelina laughed. "I'm gonna head to the library. The rest of the house is boring, everyone. Except the attic."

"They're not permitted to go in the attic."

"Uh-huh. Right. You make up too many rules." She gave a short wave and a wink at Aranios before disappearing into the library. The door shut with a heavy force, and Belladonna sighed.

"Right, on to the next floor, then." She led them upstairs with seven entrances. At the end of the long hallway was a small set of stairs leading up high into the ceiling.

"Four of these rooms are for the taking. The last room on the right is the nursery, and I suppose my cousin will also have a room." She sighed as she glanced out the window at the heavy rain. "She'll choose whatever is left over, I suppose. My room is this one." She pointed to the last room on the left. "That one is off limits. Each room has the bell system for summoning servants. If there are no questions, please choose your rooms and unpack. We'll begin searching after dinner."