The attentive observe will notice that history follows a pattern of destruction and rebirth. This have been noted more than once by many historians from the Far East to the Classical Age and even today, when science does its best to demystify the superstitions of our forefathers. Yet, the rational mind doesn't hold all the answers and try as they might, some truths that lie bellow the world that we can see everyday will always escape the hands of the men of reason, no matter how tight they make their nets.

One such pattern followed by history and known to sages from all times and era, yet ignored by so called scientists and academics who rely on their overzealous love of equations and factual data, is that the darkness that lurked the dreams of our ancestors cannot be destroyed. It'll always find a way to preserve itself. Once a man of the modern age comes in contact with it, it's inevitable that his mind will pay the price of his foolishness in forgetting why we used to fear it for most of our history.
In the vast countryside of a nation marching steadily to an age of science and reason there exists a town —more like a glorified village— forgotten behind, in the brume of time. In a hill overlooking an eerily still lake lies a mansion whose walls have been painted black by the fumes and ash of coal, the town's black gold.

It's within this mansion, known as the Rivianne Solaire, circled by sparse woods that the following account has transpired. To the reader is reserved the right to interpret this story in whatever way they deem more fitting. Take it as hard facts, delusions of insanity or a hallucination caused by the waste of the very thing that made the town rich, whatever is it that suits you best."Welcome to my mansion. I hope that you find the supper to be of your liking," Those would be the first words heard by any of those who found themselves attracted by the alluring call of the Rivianne Solaire, the so called cursed mansion resting atop a sinister hill, in a town forgotten in the middle of nowhere. Those words, spoken in a soft, whisper-like voice came from the lips of a finely dressed girl sat by the head of the very own table in which all those attracted by the mansion would find themselves as soon as their consciousness returned.

Not a single coin of their possession had been taken away, yet those reunited by that table wold find a plentiful supper before them. Some of it was half eaten, which raised a lot of suspicions. Yet, there they were. What could be happening?

Solaire slowly came to his senses and almost immediately he went into a state of panic. Instinctively he gripped his cane and nearly jumped to his feet but fortunately he was able to calm himself by clutching his rosary and analyze the situation. Once the rush of awakening died down the priest cautiously looked around the room, seeing other people who he was not familiar with. Next he knew that he was in some sort of dinning hall, and a grand one at that. The food selection here was as fine as those found in a noble court, with sights and smell worthy of a painting. However some of the food appeared to have already been eaten and Solaire neither felt full nor had any particular tastes in his mouth. He doesn't remember eating anything.

In fact, he doesn't even remember coming inside this mansion.

Though relaxing into his seat Solaire felt his belongings underneath his seat, his coat was still on, and with a shuffle of his feet he could tell there were still dirt on his shoes by the noise they made. He most certainly did not enter this place of his own free will, or else he would have properly left his bag elsewhere, hung his coat, and cleaned his shoes before making a mess on the carpet. But he does not remember how he entered this mansion in the first place. He certain knew it's existence and why he was here, but his most recent memory prior to awakening was merely requesting entry. He didn't even get a yes or a no before he woke up here. His head was not sore nor his body sluggish, so he knew he was neither drugged nor knocked unconscious. He was quite familiar with both. Which only lead the priest to one conclusion.

This place was controlled by a profane presence, a demon of some sort, who had taken Solaire as a prisoner.

The cleric already had a feeling that this mansion was haunted by an entity of maligned interests, though admittedly Solaire has never actually faced something this powerful before. Indeed, he's never actually been presence nor involved in any sort of exorcism, and to his personal shame he had always thought such things were nothing more than mere slight of hand and cunning to ease the mind of the superstitious. A suitable punishment for one such as he to believe that there surely couldn't really be a higher power between mere mortals and his god. After all, what is a god without a devil to tempt mortals from their path? Even a holy person like Solaire himself would be a ripe target from such demonic influences, turning even the most devout and faithful into a gibbering heretic.

"I must stay strong. Even if this evil is greater than my mortal self, my faith will overcome whatever vile influence it will try on me."

Soon a voice spoke up. It was from a young girl, finely dressed, who addressed those at the table and welcoming them to her mansion. She couldn't have been older than fifteen, perhaps even seventeen years old. Solaire knew that the patron of the household was married, but Solaire did not gather enough information to know if they had any children. While the man of the cloth suspects foul play, he would remain polite and in control of himself, less dark voices taint his spirit. "Thank you for inviting us to this fine meal. I apologize for any mess I've made. I don't believe we've been properly introduced however. I am Solaire Astora, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss...?"

Arthur could feel something heavy was applying pressure to his cheek, after all the fluffiness that surrounded him in a dark embrace. Something, both soft and hard at the same time, like it was covered by a piece of cloth, and was placed on him. No, more like he was placed on it. He slowly began to feel the stiffness of his body, as his senses began to go online after a few hours being neutralized.

What just happened? He thought to himself, his eyes still closed.

He remembered driving his car on the road leading up to the mansion, stopping right at its entrance, mumbling to himself that he was lost. Then he knocked onto the door, a scarred maid came out to greet him. And that's it. What happened afterwards was the endless fluffiness that almost completely soothed his senses, until now.

Wait...that means.

His eyes shot open, and his face bolted up in an instant. That moment, a painful headache slammed onto his head like a sledgehammer being brought down upon him. He instinctively grabbed hold his forehead with his hand, as he realized, he was still wearing his gloves. He realized that he was now inside the house, along with several people that he was unfamiliar with, his attires completely unchanged when he was still driving the car. His gloves, his red embellished jacket, and even his boots, all still on him, all clean.

That was strange. He was inside the house now, so he must have had entered it on his own will, since he wasn't like being binded or anything. His clothes was still clean and smooth. But if he had entered it on purpose, he should have had removed all the unnecessary belongings with him. Ok, he might have forgotten the jacket and the gloves, but the boots too? It is very rude to be wearing boots into other people's houses, especially after walking in the rains. Arthur knew that for a man of his manners, he would never ever allow it to happen.

The young thirty five years old manager looked around, his gaze danced around to register everything he can see. He saw, or rather smelled the sweet and delicious ordors of food, as they were all laid out grandly on the table. However, there was signs that they had been eaten somewhat partially. Did he eat it? He did not think so, as he was unconscious all the time.

Then suddenly, his gaze was forcefully drawn to the end of a table, where a young girl could be heard greeting everybody in the table. The next thing he saw was the magnificence of her charming dress, along with her beautiful face, and a soft yet...mysterious voice. Arthur couldn't help but feel the eccentricity behind that tone of a sound. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong with his mansion, but the wrongest one, if he had to admit, would be her.

The pleasant aromas of freshly cooked food awoke Ethan out of a deep sleep of sorts. Before he could even look around the room a sudden dizziness forced him to grab onto his seat to maintain his balance. Where was he and how did he get here? It was hard to organize his thoughts in his somewhat delirious state, but one thing he could tell was that something, maybe everything, was off.

In time the room stopped spinning. Ethan released his grip on his chair and sat up straight. Getting a good look around the room, he could tell right off that things were not as they seemed. Although it would appear they had been dining this evening, there were several clues that told a very different tale.

First of all was everyone’s reactions. By the looks of it, not one of them seemed to know where they were as evident by the confused glances around the room. Second, Ethan and them were still wearing their coats and hats. He distinctly remembered being greeted by a young maid with a scar, and although he had no recollection of what occurred after, she surely would have taken his things before he entered. Last but not least, the food. Despite the fact half of it had been eaten, their utensils still laid pristinely on the table as if they were never touched. Not to mention not one soul had a napkin on despite wearing extremely fine attire.

It was pretty clear something sinister was afoot, but what? There were many questions that needed answers, but the “who” wasn’t one of them. It didn’t take a detective to know that the girl sitting at the head of the table was strange and unsettling. Even when she spoke Ethan felt chills down his spine. She was hiding something, and he was going to find out what.

Libe slowly awoken from her slumber dazed and confused. It's as if everything was just one huge blur. She couldn't even remember who she was or what she was doing until she opened her eyes and looked around. Then everything came back to her all at once. She was Libeccio Ciaossu. A thief. She was here to rob the mansion. She was going to pose as a maid in order to get an inside look and than... Nothing. Her head was spinning but not hurt, like she's been drugged. She checked her body but everything was in place; nothing stolen, no wounds, nothing out of the ordinary. Aside from the fact that she's sitting at a dinning table and she doesn't know how she got here.

There were other people around too. They seemed just as confused as she was. Only a few people spoke, one who was a priest and another who appeared to be the host. It was a little girl who looked almost the same age as Libe herself. From what she remembered about her research about this place, the Rivianne didn't have any daughters. Only a Mr. and Mrs. Rivianne. Than again, if her experience with nobility was any indication, there was a very real possibility that the lord of this mansion married this young girl. Libe tried not to think too hard about it. Instead she looked around the room and tried to collect some clues about the place. Aside from the guests and the host, there weren't any servants around. This place looked fairly clean for a mansion that's supposedly abandoned. There was some food on the table too, but Libe didn't trust it. Not only did it look like someone's already eaten, but Libe figured it was poisoned. If she doesn't know how she got here, she certainly wasn't going to eat anything here. Plus she didn't like the idea of guest being treated to sloppy seconds. She may have been a poor thief and orphan, but even she had standards.

Looking towards the ceiling Libe tried to get an idea of what the interior of the mansion was made out of. Materials could tell a lot about the quality and wealth of a home. Wood could be the sign of a cheap mansion or one that can afford the constant repair. Stone could be someone who liked their home sturdy, or just one who had bland taste. But if what the girl's dress showed, this mansion didn't hesitate to splurge on luxuries. Outfits like that girl's probably cost enough to buy knighthood. Libe made a mental note that perhaps she should find this girl's room and steal a few dresses. Lastly, Libe looked at the other guest. Just from their faces Libe could tell that they were in the same boat as she was. They came to the mansion, blacked out, and now arrived here. Libe really hoped that this wasn't some elaborate torture. She really, really hope it wasn't.

"I need to get out of here. This heist is over."

The entire situation did seem shady, and it would have been more surprising had the unlikely guests to the Rivianne Solaire not questioned their new surroundings. How they arrived there was another matter entirely and one they would have to solve themselves. Such was the fate of this dark manor and its hidden mysteries; mysteries that were so great, they were enough to apparently compel those to enter its gates for the sake of answers.

While the girl who had addressed them, what looked to be a member of the Rivianne family, continued her greetings, each of the guests began to react to their arrival in unique ways. Some made no attempt to hide the panic that came with awaking in a new place. Yet some could keep calm in these frightening circumstances all the same, though it was doubtful they would trust the girl altogether right away.

But of course, what cause was for them to worry? After all, this girl had not outright threatened them and even seemed to be responsible in offering them up food. Surely her hospitality was a testament to her good will and nature. Though of course, that didn’t divulge from the reality of the situation; not one bit. Because, as if to proof real the anxiety upon them all, something shifted in the corner of Arthur’s eye.

It was nothing overly disastrous and nothing the others would notice either. The movement was as small as it was slight, and if Arthur chose to investigate the phenomenon, he would find nothing there. Nothing but the far side of the dining room chamber of course, the lush and expensive decorative of the Riviannes on full display.

Now what could that be? A trick of the eye? Some sort of shadowy emissary from a world beyond? Or perhaps it was a result from the half-eaten food lying on all their plates. Any of those options were viable in a situation like this, although one thing was for certain. It was certainly wasn’t responsible for the very humanoid hand touching Libeccio’s leg.

---

Alina was in a void. A dark void that that persisted ever since Alina fell unconscious at the back door of the mansion. In that void, the female assassin saw her brother's face. That, and the allure of money. Money was, after all, what the world revolved around. But in this void neither of these things appealed to Alina. Instead, they were turned into a nightmare, and an unending one at that when it wasn't just the void itself.

Finally, the void was interrupted by the sound of thunder. Though normally thunder during slumber would have made her angry, this time she welcomed the sound for the sound was an indicator that she was alive, at least for now. Slowly opening her eyes and allowing the rest of her senses to register more information, the first thing that Alina noticed was the food, followed by the dinner table. The majority of the food was half-eaten, as if people were dining in before she was awake. The second were the other "guests" at the table. Though Alina was not dressed for such an occasion she noticed at least one of the guests were not. The looks on their faces gave away that they were in a similar situation as she, if not the same boat. Third, Alina's inventory was not touched. This puzzled the assassin, for who in their right mind would not take away the weapons of a killer? This meant that their "host" was very confident or very stupid.

Finally, it seemed that Alina's thinking would be found out sooner rather than later, for there their host announced her greeting in a quiet voice. Whatever was the case, Alina observed her. If they were in the mansion....then this would mean that this woman would be a target. But she would also have more information on her brother. Alina had the feeling that they were all at her mercy, though Alina certainly did not betray any fear or emotion to the others nor to the woman. However, there was one conclusion that ran in Alina's mind.

Looks like there is no choice but to wait and see.

"I'm the master of this mansion, Countess Rivianne," the girl said, answering the young priest's question regarding her identity. "I apologize for the rough awakening, your senses may not be perfectly alright yet so it's understandable that you have doubts about your meal. Nevertheless, I assure you that none of which you have already consumed was tampered in any way other than any possible cooking mishap," the Countess said, setting her own silverware aside, after having finished her dinner.

In fact, just as she said so, the 'guests' reunited around the table would begin to notice their senses slowly coming back to them, the last of which was the sense of taste. While their minds had no recollection of being part of this dinner, the taste left behind by dinner's main dish, a sumptuous wildfowl spiced with expensive fine herbs, was impossible to negate.

"Perhaps it's time for the dessert? Please, come in, Hermiana," the Countess said before ringing a small bell.Upon her command, the same servant that answered all those who called at the main door came in. She carried a silver tray, over which rested small crystal bowls of soft vanilla ice cream, decorated with chocolate chips and mint leaves, which she promptly laid before each 'guest' with a great deal of reverence. Once she was done serving the desserts, the maid returned to the Countess' side. She bowed lightly as a sign of respect to those sat at the table and held the tray before her, waiting for her mistress' next command.

Ice cream was a very expensive dessert, given how hard it was to maintain the temperatures needed to produce and store it, which was only made more luxurious by the addition of vanilla and chocolate. Certainly this was a dessert that wouldn't look out of place even in a royal dinner room, meant to impress foreign dignitaries and business magnates.

"Please, suit yourselves. Once we are done with our dinner, I can explain the Game to all of you," the Countess said before taking a taste of her own dessert. "Ah, yes, forgive me for not mentioning it earlier. Given that all of you came here in the adequate time, I believe that you are intent on taking part in the Game, right?" she added, before eating more of her dessert, waiting to see any of her 'guests' reactions.

As Ethan listened to the young Countess, he noticed his taste buds began to delight in the exquisite flavors of the food in front of him. Had he actually eaten? Impossible. How could he have eaten without using his utensils? He looked again to be sure, and while he was correct they hadn’t be used, Ethan only then realized there was a leg bone on his plate. Ah, his silverware wouldn't have been needed if that was the case. And as he had practically wiped his hands on the chair moments ago it would have removed any grease that was left.

That explained the food then, but were more important questions that needed answering. And unfortunately, the only one capable of answering those questions appeared more preoccupied with her dinner party. Despite her obviously confused guests, The Countess decided to offer dessert rather than any explanation. While the dessert looked fabulous, Ethan was unable to even break the surface with his spoon when The Countess spoke.

“A game?” Ethan asked with a quizzical look. “I apologize, Countess, but there must have been a mistake. I’m not here for any game. As I told your maid here, my name is Detective Ethan Conrad, and I’m actually here on police business. If you have a moment there are some questions I’d like to ask you and your staff.”

Libe crossed her arms and glared at the girl. She didn't care if she could turn lead into gold or shit rainbows, Libe wasn't going to play some stupid game, least of all one she didn't ask for. At least the girl confirmed that she was the Countess, which only served to enforce Libe's belief that the lord of this mansion was a deviant. As she listened there was a taste on Libe's tongue. It was unlike anything she had before. It was scrumptious, and if she wasn't already full she'd have it again. Libe barely caught herself salivating before she came to her senses again and continued glaring at the girl. Libe doesn't remember coming into this mansion, eating dinner, or agreeing to this game. All she wanted was to leave. Even as desert was served Libe didn't even look at it.

"I don't know what sort of drugs you've put into us, but I refuse to play this game of yours. I think I- The fuck!?"

Libe felt something grab her leg and immediately she jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over. However when she looked down she saw nothing. She swore that someone's hand just grabbed her by the ankle. It was an all too familiar feeling for Libe. She glared at Countess Rivianne with a snarl. "I don't know if this is your interpretation of a joke, but the next time you have your servant lay a hand on me, they won't get their hand back." Libe adjusted her hat and flapped her coat outward as she kept staring daggers at their hostess. "I'm quite done here."

Game?

What game?

She thinks they were fooling around? Ok, maybe, but totally not for Arthur. He never met these people, so he did not know what relation they had with that girl, but Arthur knew for sure that he had absolutely no relations to them, nor did he have any sort of business with them. So there was no reason for him to stay. He was a busy man, and his amount of free time was fleeting.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I would have to refuse your invitation to the...game that you intend to put us in. You see, I-"

Then suddenly, something scraped through the corner of his eyes.

Or it looked like so. It did not actually made contact with his eyes

Arthur noticed that thing, but couldn't realize what it was, nor where it came from. And when he tried to investigate, it was gone. No sight of it seen. And the fact that those around him didn't seem to notice even made this even weirder.

'What the hell is going on?'

Something was definitely off. Everything was off. Just what the hell had he been placed in?

A game of chance in the mysterious manor? It sounded like the thing of distant fairy tales, or perhaps a tale of deviance doting parents would recall to their slumbering children. Perhaps one of these individuals would find fondness in the similarities; only in this difference they were to be the guinea pigs to this so-called game. Whatever the game even was. No doubt the Countess would explain her rules in due time, after everyone had marked their protests of course.

It was only natural in human behavior, to refuse and defy rather than accept and submit. Thrust into this strange new reality, eating strange new food, and finding themselves to be lectured by what was presumed to be a strange young girl…it was all a bit strange. But alas, events were only going to get stranger for them as time progressed in this most special of manors.

For while the hand that had pawed Libe was in fact gone from sight, there was still something shifting around in the darkness under her former seat. Something not human that seemed to scuffle closer and closer to her and whether she would check the commotion or not mattered not to the creature. Because sure enough a loud yowl was heard right beside her feet, the lithe form of a black cat screeching in panic before running across her boots and bounding across the floor.

It seemed scared of both the people and the raging storm outside, having found solace under the nearest guest table it could find, away from the group. As if heralding forth a bad omen, the thunder outside banged louder than before, followed in suit by the heavy plops of rainwater smacking against the side of the building. So powerful was this sudden outburst that the innards of the manor had actually begun to tremble slightly.

The candles high above were rapidly singed away as something heard deep in the interior of the manor crashed with a loud bang. With what little light they had having been snuffed out now, the guests and their hosts’ sight would be inhibited for this short while. But assuming one had found an alternative light source, they’d be shocked to discover both the Countess and her maid were nowhere to be found.

What they would find instead would be a large mark of red liquid coating the Countess’ chair. A closer examination would reveal every inch had been covered, as if the seat was painted in fine detail. And the scent the red liquid gave off was most fowl indeed; but perhaps most disturbing were the states of the rest of the dining hall’s chairs. For every chair that did not belong to a guest, it was place upside down and rested in perch.

---

When the Countess answered the holy-looking man's question with the introduction that she was Countess Rivianne, the assassin's question was also answered. This answer, however, made something very clear: the countess had something in mind for them. This line of thinking would mean that each and every one of the guests were here for some reason or another, and they were apparently having some kind of dinner party. While Alina was not adverse to fine food, anyone would find this particular situation unsettling. The way they were regaining their senses and the countess mentioning their senses, and now regaining them, was even more disturbing. She liked the taste of the waterfowl, but did not enjoy not remembering eating the bird.

After the countess's supposed servant handed out desert, Alina did not touch any of it. While she claimed otherwise, the countess most undoubtedly put something in this food and the desert and a mention of a game. Only a fool would take her up on her offer, and it seemed that the others had the same idea save the detective, who Alina noted when he revealed himself as such. The detective will be a pain to deal with, but for now she will tolerate him. The other woman in the room definitely had the right idea, but something told Alina that they were had. There was an assassin in the room, namely Alina herself, and if the countess was confident in herself to have an assassin inside with none of her weapons touched then there was definitely some plan to deal with all of them. However, the woman suddenly reacted for an unknown reason, knocking over her chair. It was a very strange occurrence that Alina felt she would not get the answer to, nor did she want to anytime soon. The other man seemed to not agree with the game either, expressing a desire to leave.

However, Alina decided that the time for "games" was over. The countess would surely not give them any sort of clear answer judging by how she was acting so far, but she might as well get this over with. Her brother and now herself depended on getting through whatever the countess set up. "You must be very confident to be considering playing 'games' with us. How about we stop playing dinner and you tell us what you want already?" Alina said frankly. Alina leaned forward to the countess, intent on listening instead of eating but keeping an eye on the servant and observing her surroundings for how the countess could have them in her lap. After all, Alina still had to kill both her and her pet servant but now was certainly not the time. Besides, the countess may know something about what happened to her brother.

However, Alina never received her answer for a certain set of events happened that made Alina forget about the question as she heard what sounded like a cat panicking and the sound of the storm getting worse. In fact, the storm seemed to have shaken the building up slightly. That was when the candles were put out and the hall was shrouded in darkness. The sudden thunder made Alina jump out of her seat, though without a source of light she failed to see the countess and her maid gone as well as the rest of the oddities. It did not help that something fell inside the mansion and Alina did not know what it was. Regardless, with a pounding heart and heavy breathing she took out her knife and held it in front of her as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When nothing came, she hesitantly hid the knife then put her hand on her chest.

"What just happened?!" Alina asked out into the darkness, deeply breathing not caring who answered and hoping someone had a light source.

Many questions were answered, but even more were now needed to be asked. Simple questions such as what time is it, how long have they been out, how did they even get here, and where was the lord of the mansion. But more pressing questions mainly pertained to this "Game" they've been invited too. Whatever it was, it brought back memories of the sort of "Entertainment" the evil lord from Solaire's corrupt youth participated in. Being hunted down by ravenous dogs, seeing who could survive having the most flesh cut out of their bodies, who could hold the most spiders in one's anus, sick and cruel things. Solaire didn't imagine these games were going to be any more pleasant. But before Solaire could even get a word in, darkness overtook the room.

Though not complete darkness, Solaire could not make out any details in the darkness. Only brief flashes of lightning from outside would illuminate the room, but in those brief moments he noticed that the Countess was gone. Something foul was certainly afoot. Standing to his feet and clutching his Shillelagh tightly, Solaire reached out and took one of the candlesticks on the table. He remained calm, but his voice had an edge of panic to it. He knew that like it or not, they were involved in this strange, deviant game by the Countess. "Does anyone have a lighter or matches? I have a candle here, please follow my voice. And we must stay together, for our own sakes." That crash deeper into the mansion did not escape Solaire's notice, but he had no idea what to expect. Was it simply the storm that had knocked over a display case perhaps, or something much more sinister?

"And no not be panicked... But our host has left us. Somehow. I implore you all, we must cooperate if we wish to escape this devil's game."

---

Answers were given, but that did not satisfy Arthur's confusion, as it created even more questions that require proper explanation. There were so many things that just didn't add up. It just didn't make sense. The question how did the young manager got into this manor was still left unanswered, and before he could move his lips to ask, the only source of answer was gone. The deafening roar of thunder blasted his sense of hearing away for a brief second, causing him to nearly jump out of his own chairs. His sight was also lost, as the candles, the only source of light was blown away. For a moment, he was stunned by both incidents happening simultaneously, and when it came online again, both the Countess and the maid who just served them dessert was gone. No traces of them were left, aside from the big red marks on the countess's chair. And for some unknown reasons, the chairs that were unoccupied were placed upside down on the perch. All of them, only a second ago, were on the floor.

'Is this...'

He was conflicted. Both outside and inside.

'...some sort of sorcery?'

The thought crossed his mind, for a very short time before vanishing. That there was something very demonic was going on in this mansion. Human logic could not understand, how in just less than a second, all the chairs moved drastically while the householder and the mansion staff suddenly vanished. His logic could not understand. He hated to admit that sorcery existed in this world, in this new age that he was raised in, but he couldn't help but to resolve to such thoughts to explain what just happened, even if it was only for a brief moment.

His sense of hearing was regained soon after, but the room was in complete darkness for a while after the disappearance. Luckily, a man, who he had introduced earlier as Solaire Astora, wearing some sort of priest looking outfit, lit up the candle for some lightings. By his manner of speech, it appeared that he was either more convinced about these devilries, or he was being sarcastic. But on the while, he was right. It's better to stick with those around him, for a better chance of survival, especially in this mentally strained place.

Arthur had no choice. He stood up and quickly head over to Solaire's place, which was on the other side of the table.

""Another flash of lightning would briefly illuminate the dinning room, shinning through the half-open doors. This brief moment of clarity highlighted the true state of room in which the 'guests' were reunited. Not only were the unused chairs back in place, resting upside down over the table but also the whole room seemed old. The tablecloth, once of a pristine white, was now tattered and torn. A fine layer of dust settled over the furniture, cobwebs hanged from every nook and cranny, and the silverware was tarnished to an almost sable tone. Even the floorboards creaked as the walked around.

Once the flash of light and the usual blindness that followed it had been dealt with by all if the 'guests', those with better sight between them would be able to notice a faint source of light coming from the corridor outside. It danced like an open flame and, if anyone cared to check, they would see that indeed it was a pair of oil lamps, hanging from a brass hook in the wall.

The corridor itself as was long, spanning at least twelve yards to each side of the dinning room's double doors with two single doors equally spaced, both to it's left and right. The opposite wall had a set of eight big, dirty glass windows spaced equally between themselves. The windows were firmly nailed and had iron bars bolted to their outside, likely, to protect the mansion against thieves.

What kind of decision would the Rivianne's 'guests' take now?