Drachen glanced between the coachman and the smaller woman when she speaks up after the driver. Was there an issue being early? He didn't imagine the man getting a lot of time to socialize, and judging by his quietness and dourness he probably didn't even want to. Then the girl reciprocated his greeting, which earned her a nod of that great and shaggy head. "Yes, strangely enough. He replied before his eyes turned out to look at the youth picking his pace up towards the carriage.

A short moment later and they were instructed to keep their masks on and go by aliases from this point onward. That just got a nod in response, so Mister Red huh? It made sense considering the mask he slipped on was blood red, angry looking, with a couple horns. He only had it because it was a gift from a fellow overseas, he had gone to Japan and returned with souvenirs for friends. But still, Mister Red, Lady Gold, and Mister Cobalt when the youth finally got to the carriage. The little door was opened and the woman was allowed in first, which was normal. Ladies before gentlemen and all that jazz.

The boy offered for Drachen to go second since he had arrived last. This got a shrug before he got in. Although his weight did rock the carriage on its axles. His size and weight were seemingly an absolute rarity. A normal sized man with his weight would probably have great difficulty just walking and breathing! But either way, he settled into the carriage opposite Lady Gold and tried to keep his legs and feet to himself while nearly taking up the whole seat. If the two university students had read fiction they could try and pin him as a fantasy ogre.

---

Huh, Lady Gold.....Rosanna really like that name actually. The name really tells everyone that this biddy is cookie pusher, maybe Rosie lie to say that she is rich and that is her real name, although, that may bite her in the ass if the truth comes out about the real her....At least the name match her golden dress. Rosanna thinks however, hiding their true names is rather odd, she knows who Alvin Fennel is, so what bother? Rosie however wants to know who this tall gentleman, who is now Mister Red.

The coachman then open the carriage's door for the unusual trio and Alvin that the young lady, who is Rosanna, should enter the carriage first. "Why, thank you, Al-Oh, I mean, Mister Cobalt" After Rosie say that, she let out a small giggle. As she waits for the two boys to get in the carriage, Rosie look at her mask that the coachman give her, just like her dress, it was also golden and it has golden flowers on it, which it will match perfectly with her golden headband. As the two gentleman finally get in the carriage, Rosanna check herself out toward window that serves as a mirror and finally put on her mask, she let out a another small giggle "You know, it's funny, I been though so many parties, that I never gone though a masquerade before...It rather exciting actually." Rosanna say toward the two man, hoping to start a conversation while the coachman drive them to Wilde Hall "I never been to a big mansion before either, I bet it looks magical. What you two think?"

@Kazemitsu@DruSM157

@Dark Cloud

Opportunity observed the servant with growing irritation, first at his behavior and then at her own when she realized that she hadn't asked the fellows name. It was one thing to look down on these provincials for their hackneied immitation of the English Gentry, it was quite another to fall into one of those stereotypes herself. Grimiacing with distaste she finished afixing her masquerade mask, an emerald and gold peacock piece with a gold egret and then touched the servant on the shoulder.

"A simple accident sir, no harm done," she said in as gracious a tone as she could muster.

"No doubt the fellow was simply in a rush, it happens," she said magnanimously, smiling at the new comer.

"That is right isn't it sir?" she asked the dazed looking man.

---

---

In his haste as well as the creeping panic that had slowly gripped him, Morgan collided with a rather surly gentleman whom hoisted him up by the collar and not gently in the slightest. To make things worse the man seemed quite agitated
by what happened, however a feminine voice interjected before Morgan or the other man spoke. "No doubt the fellow was simply in a rush, it happens." in response Morgan nodded, he had in fact been in a rush.

Looking to the lady in question he realized she was too another guest of the ball to be had at the manor of the rather illustrious Wilde's. She had touched the mans shoulder whom most likely was her servant or carriage driver, so to save some face Morgan cleared his throat as he eyed the man gripping his shirt collar "Quite right madam, and my apologies to you sir." Morgan told the man, but frowned behind his mask 'Heavens, this thug will ruin my shirt if he doesn't let go!' he thought feeling slightly annoyed by his own belligerence, outwardly he maintained a cordial smile.

"Beg your pardon sir but I'd appreciate if you would loosen your grip," Morgan said in a friendly tone, despite his personal feelings of being manhandled by some stranger "I'd like to introduce myself properly, it wouldn't be polite to do so in your grasp." he added still maintaining what dignity he had left in his current situation.

"Why, thank you, Al-Oh, I mean, Mister Cobalt."

Alvin peered at the young woman from behind his mask's eyes. She knows me. Her playful giggle and coquettish nature hinted at her youth; meaning she was most likely a classmate of his. He didn't recognize her from any of his upper-level linguistics and ancient language classes; those were smaller and entirely male. Perhaps from one of the science courses, he was completing? He dredged his mind for a moment, trying to picture every pretty face he was too shy to spend more than a moment's glance staring at.

Perhaps...

What would Lancaster do? One of his closest friends, an anthropology student and drama aficionado who tended to walk around with a local girl on each arm every Friday night at the local bar. He was a silver-tongued devil, and also the impetus on which his mission began. It was Lancaster's roommate, another friend of theirs, who'd been invited to Wilde Hall, after all. But instead of Lancaster, the man whose dramatis personae was always the hero, it was up to the spindly Alvin to uncover the truth.

No, old Lancaster seemed...uncomfortable with the plan. "Stay away from that place, old boy," he'd muttered to Alvin in private. "You know I'm not one for old folk tales like you and Professor Wilmarth, but something about those kinds of folks feels...off."

And yet, Alvin had pressed on and found himself in the carriage with a young woman and a giant man. He didn't have the sheer charisma to simply whisk this beauty away off her feet, and the presence of the intimidating man alongside them killed any fanciful notions of the sort. However, she was acting familiar and his hope was that it would give him an ally in a party full of his betters.

Alvin considered Lady Gold's question. "I find masquerades intriguing. The purpose was to obfuscate one's standing and class amongst one another, to allow everyone to engage with one another freely, without any pretenses." Something he could relate to, in a sense. Someone like him would never get to rub shoulders with his betters. "And I've never stepped foot inside of a manor either. I find it quite intimidating."

---

---

---

Mister Violet physically threw his head back in laughter, clearly enjoying the jest from Renee Bellerose, the sound of laughter seeming out of place against the encroaching darkness of the Wilde Woods. Regaining his composure, the slim figure wiped a tear from one of his eyes, the smile still creasing his face.

"That really is excellent, Madamoiselle. It is an honour to make your acquaintance."

The introduction of Moses Reaves caught Mister Violet's attention, and he seemed to look at the other man for the first time, one thin eyebrow raising in surprise, or perhaps amusement.

"Noire and Gray. I dare say the two of you are more suited to this sort of thing than I am! And a man of God, perhaps? No, no, don't tell me. The mystery is half the fun. What a lark."

Patting the pockets of his suit for a moment, Mister Violet pulled out a silver cigarette case. Anyone who dabbled in the world that Moses inhabited developed a keen eye, and the quality of the case didn't escape the older man's attention. If Mister Violet's odd turns of phrase weren't enough of a clue that the man came from money, the silver cigarette case may as well be a signed note. Moses was snapped out of his admiration by Mister Violet holding a cigarette towards him, and towards the lighter.

"If you don't mind, old boy."

Turning back towards Renee at the sound of her question, the eyebrow raised again, Mister Violet shrugged slightly.

"Well, I..."

Seeming to catch himself, the smile crossed his face again, and he threw his head back with a burst of laughter. Focusing on Renee again, Mister Violet tapped his temple with one finger, winking at the slight woman.

"Very good, Madamoiselle, but I would be a mighty poor guest if I spilt all my secrets to the first person I met, even if they were a dame as charming as yourself.

---

The coachman watched the unusual trio is silence. If he was amused, or surprised, by any of their conversations, then his stony-faced expression gave away no hints. At least they seemed to be taking to their new titles and masks. It was a masquerade ball after all. That being said, the coachman has not missed the fact that Rosanna Liang appeared to know Alvin Fennel, and he made a mental note to bear the knowledge in mind when he returned to Wilde Hall. The hulking figure of Drachen Steinboden was an outlier, but not enough of one to take the coachman by too much surprise. He had been working for the Wildes for long enough to know Lady Wildes... tastes.

As the three guests clambered into the carriage, the coachman cast a glance across the streets of Arkham. For now, no more guests were approaching, but the evening was still young, and he knew that by the time he returned, there would no doubt be more guests to ferry through the Wilde Woods. Pulling his heavy jacket tighter around him, he cracked the reins, and the carriage lurched forwards, and into the darkness. For now, the three guests were alone in each other's company, perhaps the last moments of relative solitude before the opulence of Wilde Hall itself. After all, the night was just beginning.

---

---

---

The letter was rough, little more than a sheet of paper folded in half, but it still intrigued Benjamin Zebrowski, and he was quick to cross the office and open it. The writing was a scrawl, and it bore no name or address, but Benjamin still felt with some sixth sense that the letter was meant for him. Meant for him or not, it did not make the message any less cryptic.

"Not all who wander are lost. Not all guests are welcome. Not all who are mourned are gone. Beware the dark, embrace the dawn."

Benjamin turned the page over, hoping for something more, but the letter was blank, other than those four sentences. What did they mean? Who had delivered this letter? A friend, or a foe? Benjamin didn't have an answer to any of those questions, and even just trying to turn them over in his mind was giving him a headache. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. The letter might still be a mystery, but the invitation in his pocket was much clearer. The point that he was supposed to go to wasn't far from his office, and he would have to leave soon if he didn't want to be late.

---

It was Opportunity Knox who was first to react to the collision, all of her practiced charm coming to the fore. Clearly her words had an effect on the coachman, appearing to quickly remind him of his station, and his surroundings. Glancing at Opportunity, even as Morgan Eisenhorn made his own argument, the coachman released his grip, an almost sheepish look crossing his face as he nodded towards Opportunity.

"Of course. Apologies, ma'am."

Turning back to Morgan, who had found his feet again, the coachman's face grew more serious. He brushed down the front of the other man's shirt, doing his best effort to flatten out any creases caused by his grip, before fixing Morgan with a steady gaze.

"You ought to be more careful, sir. What compelled you to be running through the streets like that?"

---

---

"The feeling is mutual." Although a smile was impossible to behold with a mask in the way, the change it made to one's tone of voice was not. "Please, I assure you that the 'Noire' is for my colour of dress, not my attitude. The Great War, you see..." The humour left her voice, but she didn't offer any more details beyond that. Not many more details were really required. "Still, talking of the War when we're here! A world away and with such a... Wonderful abode waiting for us?" She had to try to make herself seem more sure of herself there- not much 'wonderful' here in the chill of the woods.

"Ahah, dedicated to the mystery I see! I will have to try harder to extract something from you!" She paused for a moment, then drew out a tortoiseshell cigarette holder, politely holding the wider end out towards Violet. "Ah, but perhaps you'll excuse me if I extract something of much lesser value from you now? Would you spare this 'dame' a cigarette?" One could almost hear the inverted commas around the word 'dame.'

@Romero

Benjamin Marcus Zebrowski

Ben had a bad feeling about the letter he had just read, it was quite ominous. It sounded to him that the writer of this letter was wanting to cut out his liver and wear it as a hat. However he had no other clue than this letter, so he would need to take a big bite out of the shit sandwich. Looking up at the clock, noticing that he could make it in time before sundown. Putting on his coat and jacket, he didn’t want him to look like a bum for this job. It sounded like it could be a good paycheck, enough for him to pay his rent for a couple of months. Walking out of his building, He was becoming increasingly anxious thinking about the letter, he had a bad feeling about this job. Like something terrible would happen to him if he went to Wilde Hall. His mind was racing of what the letter meant, something that came to mind was the bible verse Pslam 23:4 “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

He wondered if the letter meant but the best he could come up with, was that the letter was nonsensical. Or at the very less meant that things were not what they seem from what he assumed. While walking to Wilde Hall, he was starting to mutter a mixture of a Hail Mary and a Our Father.

Alvin focused on the rocking of the carriage and the sound of hoofbeats as they traveled towards the manor. His mind was already anxious, constantly going over exactly what he needed. It wasn’t as if he was used to these kinds of things, but instead, he’d felt as if an invisible force was pushing him forward, pushing him towards Wilde Hall. Pushing him like-

It was the cold that had awoken his senses more than anything else. The cold feeling of saltwater encompassing him, and drawing him deeper into its darkness. The small fishing boat above was already turning murky in his vision, and the only thing below was-

DARKNESS. THE COLOR OF PITCH BLACK NIGHT, ONLY BELOW YOU INSTEAD OF ABOVE. NO STARS TO GUIDE YOU HOME, ONLY PITCH DARKNESS BELOW TO DRAG YOU FARTHER INTO THE ABYSS AND-

Arms hoisted his thin frame up, dragging him from the encroaching black towards the hazy gray light of the sky. Towards the boat, and towards safety. But as he was pulled upwards from the depths, he swore he saw something…

EYES.

Alvin shook himself back to reality, out of memory, and back to the reality of the coach with his mismatched companions. He looked even paler after that...lapse...in concentration. Sweat beaded upon his brow. How many years ago had that memory been now? More than ten, at least, and still he felt constantly hounded by the memory of the boat trip. But even worse, that feeling of dread and absolute horror was building in the bottom of his stomach, something he hadn’t felt since he stared into the black expanse.

“Apologies,” Alvin muttered, taking a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbing his brow. “I seem to have lost myself in thought…”

---

Rosanna may thinks this sounds childish on her part but she feels like a princess while riding on this carriage, like Cinderella riding to the ball after her fairy godmother made her a dress, everyone is at a awe when they see her, including the prince charming. Then the two finally dance, then kiss and live happily ever after, Rosanna sigh, she hopes that she meet her prince charming at Wilde Hall, she finds him or her throughout her life but she haven't them! Even though she going out of pure curiosity, it wouldn't hurt trying to find them, right?

While waiting to arrived to Wilde Hall, Rosie lookout through the window, seeing the dark trees moving past her, she hear rumors about the dark forest around Wilde Hall, some say there is a beast in these forest, not like a bear but a actual demon, he would offer anyone to make a deal with him, do his deeds or it curtains for you, although the first rumor is just ridiculous.....Same can't be say about the second one. Rosanna heard that anyone who ever step into the forest or even into Wilde Hall, they would never step out...Never be seen or hear from again...That second rumor brings chills down to Rosie spine, if her curiosity wasn't that stupid, she enter the woods without anything to bring like flashlight or a bean shooter, why, she be good as dead! Rosie sighs, she hopes that the party have any booze to calm her nerves, she feels that those trees are watching her.

Rosanna then look at Alvin, apologizing to the group for being in his own mind "Oh, you are quite all right, Mister Cobalt. I getting a little tad nervous myself, I never been in the forest before." Rosanna respond

@DruSM157@Kazemitsu

---

---

"You ought to be more careful, sir. What compelled you to be running through the streets like that?" the servant questioned him with a steady gaze and a serious expression on his gruff looking face, the mark of a man whose more perceptive than he may admit 'Interesting how a man bows so deeply to a woman...' Morgan momentarily mused to himself in his thoughts, however he had little time to be idly speculating the inner workings of this man's relationship towards the woman whose very touch made him change his tune.

Morgan looked pensive for a moment as he thought about the man's question, to say the truth would very well make him look soft in the head and that certainly would not do for him to look as though he were mentally ill.

---

---

---

The carriage moved through the trees, the road soft beneath it's wheels. Wilde Hall was deep into the trees, and it would take a few minutes for the carriage to trace it's way along the winding road. Out here, away from the lights of Arkham, the darkness seemed to press in from every direction, the shadows looming against the flickering light of the lantern. While Drachen Steinboden sat in stony silence, the other two occupants of the carriage were at least attempting to make conversation, although whether that was due to genuine interest, or as an attempt to stave off the darkness, only they knew.

Rosanna Liang and Alvin Fennel were both young, and although they no doubt had their reasons for travelling to Wilde Hall, neither of them had any experience rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful that frequented the parties of the Wildes, let alone in a setting as grand as Wilde Hall. Sitting in that carriage, perhaps they were both feeling that youth. As the coachman continued to drive them further into woods, any of the passengers that glanced out the window would be able to see light beginning to emerge from the darkness, as they neared the house itself. Only a few more winding corners, and they would arrive. Only a few more precious moments of peace. They all had their own reasons for accepting the invitation, all had their ow reasons for braving the depths of the Wilde Woods, but none of them knew what was waiting for them in the darkness.

---

---

---

Mister Violet took a long drag from his cigarette, the eyes behind the mask watching Renee Bellerose as she spoke. The smile on his face seemed to falter at her mention of the war, and it was almost as if the mere mention of it made the shadows grow even deeper around them. Even after the Mademoiselle did what she could to brush off the subject, the smile didn't return to Mister Violet's face for a beat, until the image of the cigarette holder seemed to jerk him back to reality.

The charm and the smile was back in an instant, as if it had never been gone. The silver cigarette case was back in his hand in a flash, and he held a cigarette out.

"Of course. Pardon my manners, Mademoiselle. I was miles away for a moment."

At the question from Moses Reaves, Mister Violet's gaze flicked across to the other man. Taking another drag of his own cigarette, he shrugged theatrically, one eyebrow raised.

"I've certainly heard rumours. But for every ghost story I've heard about things that go bump in the night, I've heard another story about a dandy shindig. Besides, if the company is as good as you two fine folk, then I'm willing to risk a ghoulie or two!"

Mister Violet threw his head back with laughter again, the slipping of the mask earlier long forgotten. Taking another breath, he seemed to remember his surroundings, and glanced around at the encroaching darkness of the Wilde Woods with a frown.

"That being said, I would rather we were getting to know each other somewhere that was a little less sinister... If your invitations are the same as mine, then I believe we're expected to meet a carriage? I certainly wouldn't be against the idea of looking for it."

---

It may have been to his faith that Benjamin Zebrowski turned, but against the darkness of the Arkham night, it was hard to even imagine the dawn. As his footsteps rang out on the cobblestones at his feet, the streets of the city were practically deserted. Every now and then, he saw curtains and shutters twitch, slivers of light arching out onto the street as eyes followed him. Curious, or something else. Either way, the thought set shivers up Benjamin's spine as he walked, and he found himself picking up his pace.

The invitation in his pocket claimed that a carriage would take him to Wilde Hall, but as he rounded the final corner, there was no carriage waiting at the edge of the woods. Instead, there was an empty road, and a shape in the shadows. Instinctively, he tensed up, suddenly on edge. The shape was human, or at least, it looked human, but it was smaller than him, shorter and leaner. His heart in his mouth, Benjamin carefully stepped forwards, all too aware that the streetlamp over his head was the last glimmer of light before the enveloping darkness of the Wilde Woods.

Each footstep seemed to ring out like the tolling of a bell, almost deafening against the surrounding darkness, and then the shape moved, turning, stepping into the dim light. An inhuman face, twisted into a leering smile, Benjamin was caught between turning on his heels, or taking a swing at the creature, until he noticed the pale, almost white, blonde hair, and the bright blue eyes looking back at him from behind the elaborate mask. Almost laughing at himself, he realised that the inhuman creature was in fact a woman, a few inches shorter than he was and well-dressed in a dark blue dress. Her face was almost covered by her mask, with only the eyes looking back at him. The voice that emerged from behind the mask was soft and almost sing-song, dramatically out of place against the darkness around them.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, sir. I was expecting a carriage but... well, as you can see, it seems that we missed our ride."

---

The stranger seemed to flounder under the glare of the coachman, and for a moment, Opportunity Knox thought that he had lost his voice entirely, until he suddenly blurted out a response.

"I thought... There was someone following me. Footsteps..."

All at once, Opportunity could see the coachman's face change. His eyebrows knitted together, and a hand reached into his jacket. He glanced across to where Opportunity still stood, just outside the doors of the The Excelsior Hotel. This late, most of the patrons had retired to their rooms, or to the saloon, but there were still a few stragglers passing by, casting perplexed glances at the unusual group.

"Stay here, ma'am."

With that, the coachman stepped around the the corner, and Opportunity could have sworn that she saw a flash of metal in his hand before he was gone from view. The stranger seemed to compose himself a little, fishing a handkerchief from his jacket pocket as he caught his breath. He pulled the fox-like mask away from his face for a moment as he wiped the sweat from his brow, and Opportunity looked him over. He was a good few inches shorter than Opportunity, and slim, and as Opportunity watched him with curiosity, he seemed to notice her, offering a weak smile as he tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket.

"Apologies, I'm afraid I've made rather the fool of myself. I am - well, I suppose I'm Mister Grey. How do you do, ma'am?

---

---

---

The dark figure still didn't move from the ground, the wild eyes watching Simon Hart for a moment, before the face twisted into a smile, and barking laughter echoed down the alleyway. Simon was suddenly painfully aware of how dark the alleyway was, and how far he was from the relative safety of the lit street. With the words of the madman still in his mind, and the manic laughter ringing in his ears, he turned, quickly retracing his steps.

Stepping through the scattered trashcans, Simon pushed on, still catching his breath. The chase had been impulsive, reckless even, but it had been worth it. The words were still turning in his head, his mind racing to piece them together. It wasn't enough though. Even as he had been listening to the warning, he had known that it was only sparking his curiosity more. He had a piece of the puzzle, but to truly cut to the heart of it, then he had no choice but to ignore the madman's warning, and venture into the Wilde Woods, and into Wilde Hall itself.

Stepping out of the alleyway, Simon glanced along the street. The two figures that had been waiting there the last time he stood at the mouth of the alley were gone, as was the carriage itself, the jaws of the Wilde Woods not even more shrouded in shadow. But he was not alone. Even as he watched, a tall, well-built man came down the street, clearly making his way towards the edge of the Wilde Woods. Before Simon could call out, or do anything to try and catch his attention, a shape detached itself from the shadows, revealing itself as a slender woman as it stepped into the half-light.

For the second time, Simon seemed to be arriving at the gathering late, but this time, there was no madman to distract him, and the clock was ticking. Perhaps now was the time for Simon to start meeting the other guests.

@Romero

Benjamin Marcus Zebrowski

As Ben made his way down the street, he would make himself smaller while walking past the occasional denizens walking the other way. He was never really a people person, as a child, he didn’t have many friends. He would spend most of his time reading books or playing pretend by himself. While walking he was becoming more annoyed that it was a huge possibility there was no carriage. He stopped walking, standing in front of the path in front of the forest. He started rubbing the bridge of his nose, making a noise of annoyance. “What the hell.” He muttered under his breath, kicking some dirt creating a small dust cloud.

When he noticed the sudden appearance of a strangely dressed figure in front of him. He was understandably quite startled. He had his arm reeled back getting ready to punch the stranger, but luckily he stopped himself and pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. “Sweet Jesus, didn’t your mother tell you not to scare people like that.” When he finished wiping some of the sweat from his forehead, he put the handkerchief back in his jacket pocket. He assumed that she was going to Wilde Hall, although he felt stupid for not wearing a costume. He was glad he had bought a cheap mask beforehand.

“Are you going to Wilde Hall too?” He asked her curious reasons this weirdo was going to Wilde Hall. He wondered if he was hallucinating somehow, he wondered if his coffee was spiked with something.

"Oh, you are quite all right, Mister Cobalt. I getting a little tad nervous myself, I never been in the forest before."

”Forests in general, or just this forest?” Alvin asked, honestly wondering if the girl had always been connected to cities and the hustle and bustle of civilized life. ”You know, there’s lots of folklore about forests. The further away one gets from civilization, the more wild and dangerous things become. At least, that’s what people used to believe when they came to settle in New England.” To some writers he’d studied, the Hawthornes and the Irvings, the forest meant the unknown, and the unknown meant dread. Even though they were en route to a mansion, the concept of it being this vast, unknowable dark thing did not ease Alvin’s mind at all.

Alvin sat in silence, staring at the encroaching manor as they made their arrival. His heart thundered in his chest, as the inevitable task was now in front of him. There was no going back, no chance to run away now. He was in the thick of it, and the only way to go now was forward.