He sat in the darkness, listening to the patter of the rain on the window, waiting. Sometimes it took minutes, other times it took an eon, but the dim flash of the lightning was unfailing. No matter how long it took, there was always the flash. No matter how heavy the curtains had been, no matter how totally the window seemed blocked, there was always the flash. He hated it beyond all words, beyond all expressions, but he only feared what it heralded.

When the roar sounded his eyes clenched shut, he held his ears as tightly as he could, and they spoke to him. They spoke and he heard them in the creaking of the old house, he heard them though the gentle clatter of darkened lanterns, and he heard them in his bones. Sometimes they were kind, sometimes they were cold, but they were always empty. They spoke in words he didn't understand and words he didn't want to. They spoke for eternity in a second ever fading until the whispers returned to silence and the herald waited to sound their return. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? They'd taken everything hadn't they? There was nothing left, so why?

He looked to the window and he knew his questions were as empty as the voices themselves. All he could do was wait, and so he waited. When the storm resigned itself to rain alone he climbed into the bed provided to him, but the alien sensation of comfort did little to soothe his frayed nerves. The bed reminded him of another time, of a name he'd long left behind. A name that a restless nights dream would show him chiseled onto a lonely gravestone set behind a house whose once vivid details had become blurred and indistinct.

As the morning light crept uninvited into the room Cyrus grudgingly woke to the smell of cooking food. The previous night had left him nervous, and a check under the bed confirmed that his few possessions were untouched. It was a habit he'd learned painfully, but he never left things of worth in clothes lent to others. Moisture clung to the few objects and small puddles had formed under those that had been most exposed, but with some relief he found that his pocket watch was still shining. In contrast his pistol was mottled with rust, but he was hardly concerned, worse things had happened to the gun.

Removing the watch from the damp pile Cyrus stood up and dressed himself with the clothes left for him. After a small check to see if any had sustained damage he sighed in relief, they were all he had for the moment. Without a care to make himself more presentable he moved to the door and peered into the hallway.

Some doors down a small group was conversing and without a word Cyrus found himself out the door and moving in their direction. He was a light man, and years of experience had taught him to be lighter. As quietly and quickly as he could manage he moved past the group. If luck permitted they wouldn't notice him, but he didn't spare the time to see if they did. In the end he suspected it wouldn't matter, high society more often than not trained itself to be blind to his ilk, whether they noticed or not.

Making a quick pace he followed the scent of food; no matter how much he disliked the notion of eating with others, he had reached the point it couldn't be avoided. It would be his first meal in days. After darting through more hallways he eventually found the source of the scent, and much to his dismay, the sound of conversation coming from within the very same room.

Without introduction, fanfare, or the slightest intention of discourse; he made his way in.

Emma extended her hand towards the door, the one she was certain lead out of the building. Her fingertips had only just brushed the handle when a voice from behind hissed sharply. "Stop!" Immediately, she withdrew her hand, turning around to face whoever had spoken. Her gaze fell on a stern-looking woman, holding an empty laundry hamper with a grip so tight that it looked as though it was her goal to crush it. "What do you think you are doing, wandering about here? This is the Mistress's wing."

She opened her mouth to retaliate - a sarcastic 'well how the hell would I know that?' ready on the tip of her tongue. Thankfully for everyone, Logan spoke up before she could make a bad situation any worse. He apologized, sincerely and respectfully. He explained the situation, how they had been trying to find the front door before breakfast, and had gotten lost.

Emma made just the slightest of faces. Yes, he was charming, and yes, she had been looking forward to smoking a quick cig before breakfast. But at this point, it hardly seemed worth it. Two interruptions, and they'd not even reached the front door yet. "Actually, mebbe we'll just go ahead and follow you to breakfast," Emma said with a shrug. She glanced at Logan. "Unless you really want to head outside for a minute. But, I can wait until after we eat."

As if to emphasize her point, she pulled the cigarette from behind her ear and tucked it into the pocket of her trousers, alongside the box of matches. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone move, but as soon as she looked in the direction, she was only able to catch sight of a disappearing heel as whoever-it-was exited the room once more. What a strange home, and what strange people.

"Thank you, perhaps we could meet after breakfast to discuss some business? I would be honored to meet the mistress of the house," Suzy replied to the butler's question. She then turned to where the younger girl had half-hidden herself and smiled. "I have to admit that it hurts a little, but whoever cleaned the wound did a fine job. My name is Suzanne by the way, and I want to thank you both for opening up the manor to all of us poor souls caught in the storm last night." As she said the last part, a shiver ran down Suzy's spine. She shook it off as a draft in the old manor.

A heartbeat later, two men entered the dining room from opposite sides. From the same door that Suzy had come through moments before, a rather scraggly looking man sidled into the room. He was the same height as the attorney's assistant and had the appearance of a starving street urchin. Suzy was able to conceal a look of surprise, but her mind raced with questions as to how the man had reached such a state. From the other side, a slightly shorter man wearing an apron and carrying a tray full of presumably breakfast entered with a smile. The tray was piled high with freshly baked scones.

"I think I might have gotten ahead of myself, I hope the guests are hungry," Anton laughed as he placed the giant tray onto the center of the dining room table. With his mind of the job at hand, Anton failed to notice the two new occupants of the room. Instead, he quickly turned and headed back through the door to the kitchen, calling behind him to Kest, "Could you send out word that the food is hot and the drinks are cold?" Anton had pulled yesterday's milk from the ice box and had chilled some lemonade to go with breakfast. He had also made several pots of coffee and tea, choosing to give the newcomers options. All of this he brought into the dining room in baskets along with sugar for those that wanted it. The kitchen still smelled strongly of scones as Anton had hidden a basket in the pantry for his fellow workers.

It seemed that the pair were destined to attend this fancy breakfast, no matter what they wanted, or tried, to do. Smiling at his companion, "Breakfast it is, no need to rush for fresh air an' all." He didn't like shirking off his habit, but to be fair, he didn't even know if they actually had animals in the barn. Looking toward the scowling maid, "Lead away, Miss."

He accompanied Emma in comfortable silence, preferring not to speak while following the living embodiment of a scowl. The woman led them into the dining room, and Logan thanked her kindly. He could smell bacon, and some sort of fruit pastry, as he eyeballed the table, trying to determine where to sit. Many were open, and it not being his home, it would not be proper to take the head or foot of the table. He decided he'd wait on Emma to pick first. As was his usual nature, he'd pull out whatever seat she selected with a smile and a nod, before sitting across from her. He poured himself a glass of milk and nabbed a slice of toast, while watching and waiting for everyone else to arrive, and he could start his meal proper.

He saw the scatterbrained woman from earlier, and wondered if she'd managed to calm herself. He flashed her a smile as he bit into his buttered toast, the perfect amount of crisp and soft. Maybe he could find her later, and offer to aid in her relaxation. A good shoulder rub, a skill he'd perfected years ago, could easily lead to much more. He saw two other men and noticed that no one was being especially sociable. With the servants, that wasn't much of a surprise, they were working after all. Jovially, after swallowing his current bite, "So did y'all get caught in the storm as well, if you dun. mind my askin'?

It seemed odd just how many were here that he didn't recognize. The village wasn't large, and he knew pretty much everyone that lived there. But it mattered not, they were all here now, and would be enjoying what he imagined would be an excellent meal. He'd try his chances with a few of the women, and depending on how that went would determine when he would try his luck to return home. As the table filled up, with everyone else arriving, he made sure to cast a casual glance and sly grin toward Emma. It would be rude for her to think he was ignoring her after all.

Anita Morgan - Scullery maid

Anita led the way to the dining hall without comment- her only detour being to a closet where she placed the hamper where it belonged. Reaching the foyer she was relieved to see that it was not in nearly as bad a state as she'd feared, one of the others must have decided to pitch in and help- either Damien or Kest if she had to guest. But by now the smell of breakfast was nigh overwhelming and Anita was acutely aware of how long it had been since she'd eaten last.

Reaching the hall, she gestured for the two guests to enter the room before her. "If you'll still be wanting fresh air after breakfast, the front door foyer is unlocked. You are also free to use the guest room balconies, or if the rain holds out, there is also a smoking room." She said, nodding in response to the man's thanks.

Seeing that the guests needed no help in finding their seats, Anita ducked away following Anton to the kitchens. "Good morning Anton," She said doing her best to stay out of the way, making her way to the sink to freshen up she watched Anton buzz industriously about the kitchen, "Making a full menu are we? What is it that smells so fantastic? I hope you saved some for us. I am famished."

Error404.

Kest looked at the young woman, "Of course, I would be delighted to discuss your business with the mistress." he bowed and smiled at her. A soft smile danced upon his lips while a mischievous twinkle lit his eyes.

Not seconds later a grimace formed on Kest's face as the last of the guests entered the dining room. So many people trapped here with no hope of escape. The storm had caused a lot more trouble than these people deserved. Then again, someone like that gangly man that had just walked in might do better here. He seemed like he had more ghosts in his past than most of servants put together.

He seemed rather like Grace. Kest turned his gaze upon the girl again. She had willingly made conversation with one of the guests. This was a new development. He liked it.

He nodded to them and Anita as they walked in the door. He waited until all the guests arrived then spoke.
"Please, sit down anywhere you like. If you need anything, please feel free to say so. My lady will not be joining you until this evening."

The young priest soon found his way into the dining hall, looking a bit frazzled by his lone journey through the manor unattended, but no worse for wear. Father Marco entered to the sound of light conversation and the clinking of porcelain.

Murmuring a quiet pardon, he took a seat between the rather homely looking man and the young woman-crisp and pressed with an official look to her. Looking about at his fellow comrades in breakfast, he smiled lightly as he considered the odd motley of individuals that had been brought together in this strange place.

"Good morn. I do hope you all found your way here far kinder than mine," He said in response to the man's question as he poured himself a glass of juice, "I was lucky, I was on my way to Kimblewick. On foot. The storm nearly swept me off my feet and not just the path from underneath me. I could have still been wandering about the wood had I not found my way here."

"Do give our lady hostess my thanks for her hospitality," He then said to the head butler after he'd finished speaking to the crisp young woman, "Not many would be so kind as to open their home to lost strangers in the night."

James remained in the hallway just out of sight as the others began to get their breakfast, contemplating. The mansion had no obvious hints that something was amiss here, most certainly proving that his fellow guildmates were correct in ridiculing him. And yet, his instincts screamed at him that something was amiss, there was more than meets the eye. Perhaps more investigation will provide something meaningful. Watching the others for just a few moments, he was about to enter without a word when the priest unintentionally made a good point. "Not many would be so kind as to open their home to lost strangers in the night."

Walking in, James looked pointedly at the butler who'd greeted them the night before. "Indeed, it's odd. Especially since the villagers are convinced there's something wrong with this place. Perhaps it's simply superstition, but...such willingness isn't something I'd expect from someone with such money."

Grace Sparling

Grace's waited patiently for the woman, who introduced herself as Suzanne, to answer her question. Yes, her leg hurt slightly, but whoever had patched it up had done a good job. And then, just as abruptly as Grace had spoken up, she resorted once more to her uncanny silence. Her only acknowledgement to Suzanne was a barely perceptible nod, before drifting backwards towards the edge of the room.

Others were starting to file in for breakfast now. Grace watched the succession of newcomers, most of whom she had seen enter the previous night. The scraggly-looking man was first. He was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. As quiet as her, and somewhat worse-for-wear. She intended to keep her distance. Anton entered from the kitchen, and Anita from the hallway, another two of the newcomers trailing behind her. One was a tall man, the other a woman, though she didn't seem to dress as such. Short hair, and boots and trousers. The last to enter was a young man with strikingly blue eyes.

She watched quietly from the edge of the room as everyone found their seats. Unless she spoke up, which was unlikely, chances were she would remain unnoticed. There were so many people...more people than they'd had arrive at the mansion in some time now.

----------------------

Emma Knowles
Her hopes for a quick smoke before breakfast officially out the window, Emma trailed along behind the stern woman, and Logan trailed along behind her. A few seconds ago, she would have been certain she could have found her way to the dining room without issue. A few turns through the hallways proved that, had Anita not been leading them, Emma would have gotten herself and Logan hopelessly lost for the second time that morning. But eventually, they did reach the dining room, where others were gathering, and where the smells of breakfast were enticing.

She found her way to one of the empty seats, and resisted the urge to laugh and roll her eyes when Logan insisted on pulling it out for her before she could even lay a hand on it. Logan sat across from her. Beside her, Suzanne, the woman from earlier. On Suzy's other side, a young man, and next to him, a skeletal figure who looked as though he'd been dragged through ten times worse than last night's storm before arriving here.

Conversation started up, everyone saying their morning greetings, inquiring about the previous night's storm. As the others spoke, Logan's sly grin in her direction did not go unnoticed by Emma. Her response was the curious raise of a single eyebrow, before she was distracted by the entrance of the last guest. "Not many would be so kind as to open their home to lost strangers in the night," Marco was saying.

The door to the dining room opened, and another joined their number. He spoke, and it was clear that he had been listening in on any conversation thus far. "Indeed, it's odd. Especially since the villagers are convinced there's something wrong with this place. Perhaps it's simply superstition, but...such willingness isn't something I'd expect from someone with such money."

Emma cocked her head, curious, regarding the new arrival. "Something wrong with this place?" she asked, a dangerous level of curiosity in her eye, and a smile growing on her face. "Such as? I'm not a local, I haven't heard any talk in the village yet."

Kest listened to the chatter of the guests. When the last one finally entered, the man looked directly at him and basically summed up what each other the servants wished they could say. He knew they all want to scream at them to leave. To tell them what would happen if they stayed.. but once they were here, there was no escape.

"Simple superstition. There is nothing to be feared here." the lie was spoken like water on rocks. Kest knew what would happen if he made any suggestion that something could be amiss. If any of them did. It was best to just let the pieces fall where they may and...

Kest lost his train of thought after a strange scent hit him. It was the tang of metal. It wasn't like the soft bitterness of the silver, this is a harsh steel. It made him wrinkle his nose. His brows drew together and his eyes looked sharply at the man.
"Sir, you were asked to keep your personal weapons in your room."

As if in response to Kest's words, the house moaned, creaking as it shuddered. To any normal person, it would be the sound a tall wooden building makes as it bows in the wind. The servants knew this was not the case. Kest looked around, fully aware that the mansion was changing. He didn't know how it worked, but now he was never going to hear the end of it!
'Butler, my dresser use to be across from my bed and now its next to the window.'
'Butler, someones been stealing my shoes.'
'Butler, I can't find my room.' Or, his personal favorite:
'Wasn't that suit of armor over there yesterday?'

The butler rolled his eyes and wondered what complaints he would get now. He could be like Damien, scare the guests away with his big gruffness. He had always wanted to trade places with his buff companion, but was sure Damien wouldn't enjoy it. Kest put on his best smile and waved his hand in a dismissive manner.
"Its just the wind."

Elsewhere in the house, the change had caused a new room to reveal itself, though this was no ordinary room. The door had been locked from the outside, and up until a moment ago, it had remained that way. Now that the door had become visible, the lock had undone itself, allowing whoever-or whatever- was inside it the chance to escape. The door remained closed for several minutes, then slowly the knob turned, the door eventually creaking open as if it were under some enormous pressure. A hand covered in what appeared to be dirt could be seen for a brief moment before it retracted from view, as if afraid of the light or what lay outside the room. "Open? How? Why? Freedom? Trickery?" a timid and small female voice asked out loud. "No. Can't be trickery. Freedom maybe? No. Explore. Find answers." she answered herself. The woman slowly inched her way towards the door, opening it slowly, the light revealing her form. She wore a semi-tattered and stained dress with the left sleeve completely missing, along with tears across the abdomen, and half of the lower section missing as well. She had obviously tried to do something with her hair, a half formed bun with the rest of her hair hanging down her back was her current style. She slowly made her way out of the room, the door slamming behind her loudly and locking itself, causing her to run to the end of the hall in fright. Luckily, she was barefoot, so she didn't wind up tripping as she ran.

When she came to a stop, she looked behind her, "Trickery. Yes. Have to leave. Can't stay. Dangerous." she mumbled to herself. She didn't move for a couple more minutes, but started looking around on the floor, finding a button and a piece of string. She put these in her pocket, discovering she also had a corroded ring in there as well. Dismissing it, she went back to searching the floor, having completely forgotten what she had been trying to do in the first place. She eventually got down on all fours, crawling as she searched for more odds and ends. She came across a dead mouse, poor thing must have been crushed at some point. She felt sorry for just a moment before picking it up, bringing it to her lips, then tearing into the flesh. She devoured it in no time at all, tossing the bones aside when the meat was cleaned off them, much like what a scavenger would do in the wild. Once the last bone was picked clean, she used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, smearing blood over her face. Now that she had eaten something, she decided to explore some more, eventually arriving at a set of stairs. She didn't descend down them though, she just stood there, listening. There were voices! She could hear voices coming from below! "Others like me? Answers maybe? No. Can't be. Must not let them know I'm here. More trickery. Possibly danger. No. Stay away from them. Yes, yes, a good idea." she said to herself quietly, slowly backing away from the stairs. She decided to head back the way she came, though unaware the direction she was heading was right back to where she started, the room that locked her out. She tried to turn the knob, "Open!" she pleaded, but the door wouldn't budge an inch. "Open right now!" she shouted, her personality now changing. "I swear to God, if you don't open this door, I'm going to kill somebody!" she screamed as loud as she could.