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"I guess the forests in general, my father always say that they are dangerous..." Rosanna's father is a very quiet and stern man but still a lovely man, he always tell young Rosie his days of his youth but he always warn about forests cause one time, one of his brother, uncle Bo, went to deep in the forest for unknown reasons and never been seen or hear from again. Some people say that the Japanese took him, some say animals, spirits or nature but all that her father knows, that the forest is a deadly place, who knows what lurks in the night.

As Alvin talks about folklore about forests, Rosanna spots something in the distance, she roll down her window and pop her head and then she gasp, there it is! The manor! In all it glory! Her heart start beating excitedly as the carriage move closer and closer! All of their secrets will be revealed in front of Rosanna Liang! Rosie smile ear to ear as she move her head back inside the carriage and look at the group with excited in her eyes under her mask "This is it, boys! We are almost at great house!" Rosanna says excitedly "I bet that we'll drink alot of giggle water, wingding all night long while band plays until sunrise!" Rosie kinda hopes she won't late for class after the party, she doesn't want to hear a another hard learned lecture from Mrs Brown while suffering a hangover.

@DruSM157@Kazemitsu

"I fear it might be rather a night for making fools of ourselves," she responded, her eyes tracking the departing coachman and her hand lifting from her purse where it had unconsciously dipped during the altercation. Perhaps the coachman was more American than he seemed given his haste to investigate whatever fancy had been pursuing this Mr Gray. She hadn't yet applied her own masquerade mask, nor did she see a particular reason to do so now.

"I'm Opportunity Knox," she said extending her hand to shake his, "and yes I know."

"I suppose you can call me Madam Green, if your taste for melodrama is as acute as my American Cousins," she told him, taking a step towards the carriage and folding down the ramp. She didn't doubt it would irk the coachman if she alighted without waiting for him.

"I take if from your get up that you are headed for Wilde Hall? You are welcome to ride with me, an apology for interrupting your run with my body," she said with a snicker.

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"I take it from your get up that you are headed for Wilde Hall? You are welcome to ride with me, an apology for interrupting your run with my body." Opportunity snickered, in reply Morgan himself chuckled at the comment and as he let his hand fall to his side he smiled wryly at the woman "I think it was a welcome interruption, but I doubt I would have been so lucky in any other circumstance." he nodded his head in the direction the woman's coachman had departed with his smile disappearing and a frown taking it's place.

"In any case I accept your offer," he told Opportunity offering her an arm out of courtesy "I doubt your coachman will be too enthused though." he said hinting at his own insight.

"No, I've heard many interesting things of Wilde Hall. My attentions don't simply fall hither and thither, after all. I only investigate things I believe worth my time."

It seemed that she was not the only one with trenches in her past. Gently, almost kindly, she would incline her head towards Mister Violet and mouth a silent apology. The cigarette went into the long holder, and then she procured a packet of matches from within her clothes. There was a woosh as it lit, and then up to the paper it would go, the madamoiselle having to puff a few times to ensure it would remain lit through the long device.

Only once she had taken the opportunity to savour the taste of the smoke would she continue talking. "Ah, yes, the carriage. I must admit I assumed it further on." She gestured along the path. "Deacon Grey here surprised me before you came along, was all." She raised eyebrows, invisible behind her mask, then flicked away some ash. "I shall be staying firmly with you gentlemen then if you don't mind- I would prefer to be left unsurprised by anyone else."

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The voice of Drachen Steinboden was almost a growl, and it caught the attention of Rosanna Liang and Alvin Fennel in an instant. In the confined space of the carriage, Drachen's frame was vast, and the red devil mask did nothing to make the man less intimidating.

"It's not the woods you should be worried about. Only things in there are shadows and beasts. It's the creatures that live in the light that you ought to be careful of."

The heavy head turned, noticing the glow of the approaching house at the same time as the others did. There was a long moment of silence, the air heavy with anticipation, the only sound coming from beyond the carriage, and then Drachen growled out again.

"My advice. Don't let your guard down."

The carriage finally turned the corner, and the Wilde Woods seemed to fall away. There it was. Wilde Hall. Golden light spilled out from more than a dozen windows in the buildings face, seeming to banish the darkness that had clung to them in the forest. The faint sound of music, lively and upbeat, drifted through the air. As they drew closer, the inhabitants of the carriage could take in the sheer size of the house. Four stories high, the house was undeniably lavish, easily rivalling the grand old buildings of the Miskatonic University. The carriage fell into silence again, although this time it was awe that filled the space, rather than anticipation.

The carriage ground to a halt, and the driver's voice finally broke the spell as he called out.

"Mister Red, Mister Cobalt, and Lady Gold."

The door swung open, and the three guests suddenly found themselves under intense scrutiny. Even those who had never seen her before knew who they now faced. Avery Wildes was strikingly beautiful, even in her fifties. Light grey, almost white, hair pulled back, and a simple black mask doing nothing to conceal her sharp features and high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes glanced between the three guests for a moment, before the edge in them vanished in an instant, and a warm smile crossed the woman's face.

"It's good to see you all. I hope Parker kept the journey smooth."

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The bright blue eyes watched the shock of Benjamin Zebrowski with a look of amusement, and Benjamin couldn't help but think that there would be a smile behind the elaborate mask.

"My mother told me not to talk to strangers, but here we are."

Benjamin's following question seemed to be less amusing to the pale woman, but before she could reply, another shape emerged from the gloom. Simon Hart had decided that there was at least some semblance of safety in numbers, and if he was set to wait in the darkness for the carriage to return, then it was better he did it in with unusual company, than with no company at all.

The inhuman mask turned to look at Simon as he approached, and again, there was a spark of humour in them. For whatever reason, the woman standing before the two men seemed to be enjoying the situation far more than her two companions were. Her gaze darted between Simon and Benjamin as she spoke, never seeming to settle on one or the other for too long.

"No need to apologise, sir. I was just about to start making introductions. If neither of you two gentleman are in a rush to introduce himself, then allow me. You may call me Miss White, at least for the duration of the evening. What may I call you?"

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Whether it was simply the respite, or the absence of the stone-faced coachman, Morgan Eisenhorn seemed to have regained his composure. The last patrons of The Excelsior Hotel still milled about them, fleeing the increasing depth of the evening, and the curious glances in the direction of Morgan and Opportunity Knox had reduced, although not entirely dissipated. Opportunity's commitment to the masquerade of the evening was flimsy at best, but Morgan still clung to some vestige of his identity, still obscured behind the mask he wore, at least for now. Whatever his thoughts on the masquerade, Morgan was not foolish enough to ignore a perfectly good offer, and he was quick to accept the opportunity to ride with Opportunity.

As if on cue, the coachman appeared again, stepping out from around the corner as he adjusted his jacket. His gaze darted to Morgan first, and then across Opportunity, now standing by the carriage, and his face creased with concern.

"Apologies, ma'am. Please. Allow me."

He quickly crossed the gap, and pulled open the carriage door, standing by as he gestured for Opportunity to climb aboard. As he did, he seemed to remember Morgan again, and his light eyes narrowed slightly as they turned back to the other man. For a beat, he was still, as if he was wrestling with a decision, and then he seemed to make up his mind, and his face softened.

"If you are bound for Wilde Hall, and Madam Green allows it, then I can take you along. Assuming you have your invitation?"

A single hand extended towards Morgan, the gaze not leaving him.

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The green eyes of Mister Violet watched the silent apology of Renee Bellerose, but he barely reacted. The brief moment of the mask slipping, the brief glimpse at something more behind the glowing smile, had passed. He took another long drag from his cigarette as his gaze danced between Renee and Moses Reaves as they talked. The smile didn't falter.

As his two new companions seemed to agree to his suggestion, Mister Violet nodded slightly, gesturing Moses forward as the other man went to lead the way.

"Please, be my guest. Let us hope that your faith shows us the way."

As Moses turned, and began to walk further along the path, Mister Violet took a final deep breath of the cigarette in his hand, before letting it fall to the ground, grinding it into the mud with one foot as he glanced across at Renee. There was a spark in his eye, but Renee still struggled to read the man. There was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on. He seemed friendly enough, and he made for a more willing conversationalist than the wary Deacon Grey, but something about his smile, or those green eyes, or the layer of mud on his shoes, something felt off. Out of place. Dangerous.

Renee's scrutiny was broken by Mister Violet's voice, and an arm offered in her direction.

"It would be an honour to ensure that you remain unsurprised, Mademoiselle. For now, I suggest we stay close to the good Deacon. They say there is safety in numbers after all."

@Prosaic @Romero

Benjamin Marcus Zebrowski

While Ben was speaking with the strange woman, he felt quite unnerved by being near this woman. There was something off about her but he could not put his finger on it. He felt very uncomfortable being around this person, he wished he was the only person to be walking around in this creepy forest. He chuckled when she said that she should not talk to strangers, She didn’t seem like she minded speaking to him.

Of course, their conversation if one could call it that was interrupted by another stranger walking towards them. He slung his arm back once again getting ready to punch Simons, but he stopped himself. He hated how everyone was just popping up out of nowhere, thinking that he was too jumpy and would need to calm himself down. “Sorry pal, I don't smoke.” He studied the man in front of him, finding him to be older than Ben. He wondered if this man was a soldier in the great war like himself. He seemed a little jittery and dismissed the thought of this man being a soldier. “Eh you can call me Mister Strawberry. So are you going to Wilde Hall too??” He addressed the man.

"Why, I shall take that as a compliment," the madamoiselle returned to the Deacon, watching as he volunteered to stride ahead. She was, of course, quite fine with that, no 'ladies first' in these woods. "Indeed," she responded with a nod to the other man. "Ah, my apologies, mister, but I'm afraid." She gestured to her clothing as if to indicate that taking another man's arm would be inappropriate.

Her mind ticked to try to put together what she knew of the little enigma that was Mister Violet. The tracks and the muddiness of his shoes implied that he had been striding through the forest, but if he had he'd not been forthcoming with that information. That, to her, suggested that he was hiding something, and that made her slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps it was only sensible, after all, it was a masquerade ball, but just in case she hurried her stride up a little, so that if needed Deacon Grey wouldn't have far to move to assist her.

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Miss White watched her unusual companions like one might look at curiosities in an exhibition. She nodded slightly at each introduction in turn, eyes dancing between Benjamin Zebrowski to Simon Hart as each spoke. At Simon's question, the dark dress shifted in the shadows as the slight frame shrugged slightly, the sing-song voice echoing down the street once more.

"On the contrary, Mister Blue. The night is still young. I intend to await the carriage, but if you are in a great hurry, then I'm sure you can set out on foot. Although I certainly would not envy anyone who walks those woods."

As if on cue, a chill wind came howling down the street, and even though they were still some distance from the first twisted trees of the Wilde Woods, all three of them could hear the trees creaking and moaning in the wind. Or at least, they all hoped that it was the wind.

Another noise broke the spell, the echo of hoof-beats, and the rattling of wheels on stone. The unlikely trio would have been forgiven for glancing towards the trees, expecting the Wildes carriage to emerge, but it is not from the woods that the carriage came. Instead, the sleek, black shape of an expensive carriage slipped from the shadows of the city at their backs. Two dark horses bore it forward, the hooded coachman driving them on, but as the carriage neared the edge of the forest, the coachman cried out, and the horses broke their stride, the carriage coming to a stop just a few paces from where Miss White, Simon and Benjamin still stood. For a beat, there was near silence, the only sound coming from the panting of the horses, steam spiralling into the cold air from their flanks, and then the carriage door swung open, and light spilled out onto the street.

For a moment, the trio could only make out a silhouette against the light, their eyes adjusting, but then they found themselves looking into a wide face, obscured by a mask bearing a long hooked beak, all in white. The mask stood in stark contrast to the shock of auburn hair on the man's head, and against the booming voice that echoed from the carriage.

"I say, a little late to be wandering the streets, isn't it? If I've said it once to Avery, I've said it a dozen times, Parker's too cautious on the road, takes too long to shuttle everyone to the house. You're all bound for Wilde Hall I take it? Well the more the merrier, I'm happy to give you all a ride there! Doctor Green, at your service."

The man leant back slightly, one large hand beckoning the three other guests forwards. The offer was certainly an enticing one, as was the warmth and light that radiated from within Doctor Green's carriage, but something caught Simon's attention, something that stopped him in his tracks. Miss White had been watching the two strangers with amusement, clearly not feeling threatened by either of the two men that had loomed out of the shadows, but ever since the carriage door had swung open, her shoulders had stiffened. It was slight, and something that could be easily missed, or perhaps brushed off as a coincidence, but it scratched at Simon. Miss White knew this Doctor, or at least knew of him, and judging by her reaction, it was not as a friend.

---

"It's not the woods you should be worried about. Only things in there are shadows and beasts. It's the creatures that live in the light that you ought to be careful of. My advice. Don't let your guard down." Rosanna nod at Mister Red request, they don't know what lie in the Wilde Hall "Well, just in case, if I get distracted, do tap or pinch me. I do get distracted easily" Rosie say with smirk, like she joking but in reality, it really is becoming a problem to her. She get so hyperfocus on many little things, Rosie just basically become obsess on it, she just hopes that for once that she won't get distracted and just focus on one thing.

When the group made it to Wilde Hall however, Rosanna eyes widen in wonder and awe, she feel like a kid going to a candy store for the first time, like a princess going to a golden ball. That where Rosanna spot her, the lady of the hour, the lady of mystery, it's lady Wildes. Rosanna did a curtsy toward lady Wildes, trying to be humble and respectable toward her and if Rosie is being honest...She didn't expect lady Wildes to be such a looker! "It's good to see you too, Mrs Wildes. It's a honor to see you in person" Rosanna say as she raise her hand for a shake

@Romero

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For a long moment, Morgan Eisenhorn didn't move, seemingly paralysed in the face of the coachman, and then he suddenly seemed to find his nerve, and one hand reached into his jacket pocket. The hand reappeared clutching the thick card that Opportunity Knox recognised, as it was the same invitation that was in her own pocket. The coachman, seeming to grow impatient now, or perhaps just aware of how long they had already dallied on the steps of The Excelsior, took the invitation from Morgan's hand, holding it towards the light spilling out from the hotel as his eyes scanned the text.

"Mister Slate."

Passing the invitation back to the other man, the coachman gestured again towards the open door of the carriage, his face visibly softening as he turned back to Opportunity.

"If you're ready ma'am, we really should be going. Lady Wildes doesn't like to be kept waiting."

As if on cue, a wind howled down the street, suddenly filling the air with a bitter chill, and the coachman glanced back towards the street that Morgan had arrived from, squaring his jaw. Whether it had been the creation of an overactive imagination, or something altogether more sinister, whatever it was that had hounded Morgan towards the Excelsior has clearly unsettled the coachman, and it was evident to both of the guest's that it wasn't just the ire of his employer that was causing the man to hurry them along.

Seeming to remember his manners, Morgan took a step closer to the carriage, before offering his hand to help Opportunity climb aboard. Whether she took his hand or not, he followed after her into the carriage, and almost before they were seated, it started forwards, the cry of the coachman as the horses began to move.

There was a few beats of silence, the only sound coming from the carriage wheels and horses hooves against the street, before Morgan turned towards Opportunity, a sheepish smile on his face as he attempted to strike up a conversation.

"An unusual meeting, but I'm grateful for you allowing me to share your carriage. I assume you know the Wildes then?"

Opportunity leaned back, crossing a calf over her thigh as she leaned back into the comfortable upholstery of the coach. She made an airy gesture with her right hand, dismissing his thanks.

"If one finds oneself with the good fortune to be riding in a carriage, seems only right to share," she returned, her tone making it clear that she regarded riding in a carriage as dubious fortune at best. She had learned to ride a horse as a child but vastly preferred automobiles.

"As for the Wildes... we are cater-cousins. Old blood connections, back before the Revolution," Opportunity explained. Truthfully the nature of the connection between the Knox family and the Wildes was vague in her mind. The Wildes were the senior branch, though the Knox family had made its fortune in the India trade and privateering against the French, elevating them in the English society.

"What about you Mr Slate, what sin have you committed to have this nights festivities inflicted upon you?"

The gruff voice of Mr. Red was enough to wake Alvin out of his usual stupor. It fit the man, honestly. He only needed to say what was important, and those words, Keep your guard up was exactly the reminder Alvin needed. Was he also here for some reason other than rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful of Arkham? He definitely did not look like the sort who would go to a party like this. Alvin made a mental note, thinking that the large man could be a potential ally if things went poorly in the estate. Lady Gold was another such potential ally, though she could easily be a danger to him as well. Her familiarity with him was something that could be used against him, by herself or by others.

As they approached Wilde Hall, Alvin had to shake himself out of his thoughts once more. As the carriage slowed, and he took the enormity of the estate in, he tried to mentally prepare himself, to create a kind of game plan. Get in, find someplace quiet to collect his thoughts, and begin to observe the area. Find a moment to excuse himself from the party and start…

Then the doors opened, and one Avery Wildes was there to greet them. That was unexpected. Alvin anticipated a footman of some kind to greet them, not the lady of the house herself. That kind of importance was something he assumed was reserved for...his betters, for a lack of a better word.

Alvin helped Lady Gold out of the carriage and gave room for Mr. Red to climb out as well. As Mrs. Wildes greeted them, Alvin felt tense. She was beautiful, even for a woman of her age. Somehow that unnerved him. The women he’d known in his life did not age gracefully. Years of hard work and birthing children took their toll on their bodies. He was not used to someone who still looked so vibrant. He sighed in relief as Lady Gold broke the ice and took the woman’s hand. She definitely had the personality to deal with these types, which was a skill he dreadfully lacked. He’d let the young woman take care of the talking. All he really wanted was to finally get inside.

@Prosaic @Romero

Benjamin Marcus Zebrowski

Ben was going to say something to the tune of “I was not asking, I thought you were asking for a light.” However he felt that it was irrelevant to what was going on currently. “I guess everyone got their reasons for going there.” He wondered the main reason why this fellow was going to Wilde Hall. He assumed that this man was invited under the promise of finding a loved one or perhaps was enticed towards Wilde Hall. His reason for going to Wilde Hall was not a concern of his, he was more concerned about his reason. “I don’t care.” He answered curtly not caring that Simon smoked.

Being quite apprehensive of Simons’s motives, there had to be a reason for him going to Wilde Hall. The same could be said of the strange woman whom he found to be quite untrustworthy. He turned his attention towards the noise coming towards them. He felt a bad aura coming from the coach driver. He didn’t trust this person either, he assumed that they would be taken further into the forest and brutally killed. But there was a small part of him that was curious to see what would happen if he went into the carriage.

“Hello Doc, are you going to Wilde Hall too? I guess everyone is heading up there, is there room for the three of us?” He asked the passenger who identified himself as Doctor Green. He turned to face the others, the looks on their faces were of disdain and distrust of this Doctor Green fellow. Personally, he did not see it, as he found the doctor to be quite approachable.

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Avery Wildes smiled again, nodding her head towards Rosanna Liang as the petite woman curtsied. The smile didn't falter, as Rosanna thrust a hand in her direction, but one perfectly formed eyebrow, as pale as the rest of her hair, rose slightly above the dark shape of her mask in curiosity. She barely missed a beat though, politely taking Rosanna's hand in a surprisingly firm grip, and shaking it for a moment, before her attention turned back to the other inhabitants of the carriage.

As her gaze drifted over the formidable figure of Drachen Steinboden, the tall man nodded his head towards her, the sheer size of his frame, and the constricting space of the carriage interior, ruling out any more elaborate gesture.

"The journey was a fine one. Thank you for the invitation."

Avery Wildes smiled again, and a light seemed to dance in her blue eyes for a moment as she waved away Drachen's thanks.

"Nonsense. There is no need to thank me. Now, I expect you'll want to get inside?"

Stepping aside slightly, the lady of the house ushered the three guests from the carriage. As soon as they stepped out of the relative shelter of the carriage's interior, the biting chill in the wind served as a harsh reminder of the closing night, the wind moving through the trees all around them sounding like waves against the shore. With the darkness seeming to press in from all sides, the light that spilled out from Wilde Hall suddenly became far more enticing, and all three of the guests found their feet moving them towards the impressive doorway.

As they moved towards the house, the gravel of the drive crunching beneath their feet, Rosanna realised that their host was not with them. Glancing back the way they had come, she saw that the coachman had climbed down from his seat on the carriage, and was standing close to Avery. Any conversation that Rosanna might have been able to make out was snatched away by the wind, but something about the way the pair were standing put Rosanna on edge. The gaze of the coachman suddenly snapped to her, and Rosanna's breath caught in her throat, whipping her head back around, and walking towards the house a little quicker. What had she seen? An employer talking to her employee, but there was something about it that made her feel as if she had overstepped, or seen something she was not meant to. Maybe the looming shadows of the Wilde Woods had had more of an affect on her than she had realised.

While Rosanna had turned her attention back towards the carriage, Alvin Fennel had been enraptured by Wilde Hall itself. The opulence of it, the grandeur, it was like he had stepped through the looking glass, and into another world. He tried to take it all in, his gaze flitting from one impressive feature to the next, from one window to another, and then it caught his eye. It was fleeting, little more than movement in a shadow, but he swore he had seen it. In one of the windows, on the third floor, a figure. They had been dark, but tall, and looking down at the three of them as they approached, and gone by the time he looked for it again. Alvin glanced at his companions, had they seen it too? Rosanna seemed on edge of all a sudden, but Drachen's face was unflinching. Had it been a trick of the light, a servant or guest simply pausing to look out, or something altogether more sinister?