Grand Entrance of the FoS Manoir de Pénombre

[Viktor Hazan]

Ignoring his scruffy manners, Viktor presents him:

"Ah! Ambrose! I'm surprised I didn't see you earlier! Where you in the wine cellar? Just kidding of course. Messieurs, mesdames, here's Ambrose Skully, Esteemed member of the Fraternity"

[Scipion_Emilien]

Viktor smiles "A nova Vaasan! How refreshing! My friend from afar, this dish was created by our chefs with inspiration by Lady Gabrielle, the infamous witch from Hunadora."

After a pause, he adds "just because the sauce contains Invidian brandy!"

Vili was a little uncomfortable :" Ahem, hum, yes it s a good reason to call that meal like that, i ll go into the dinning room to taste of it"

He then turn to observe the gnome who made is appearence.

[Ambrose Skully]

"Heh, heh, very funny, Hazan. But of course you know that my key to the wine cellar mysteriously vanished a month ago. Just like it did the month before."

"Perhaps you should check your coat pocket, then?" Responds Viktor.

The bald gnome responds with a cold sneer and a raised eyebrow. With his right hand he offers a mock salute, while his left remains in his coat, as though it were a broken limb in a sling.

"Like I said, a funny man."

[Viktor Hazan]

Vili was a little uncomfortable :" Ahem, hum, yes it s a good reason to call that meal like that, i ll go into the dinning room to taste of it"

"I was kidding you, of course. Do not let my snubbish manners in the way. Nova Vaasan have a lot to teach us"

[Viktor Hazan]

"Heh, heh, very funny, Hazan. But of course you know that my key to the wine cellar mysteriously vanished a month ago. Just like it did the month before."

"Did it? I'm shocked!", said Viktor, looking genuinely perplex. He was in fact trying to guess which other Fraternity member took his key this time.

"Food is served, and if it's good enough for humans, it should be for gnomes too!"

[Grey Arcanist]

Raephael smiles at the new arrival
"Welcome Mr..Chateaufaux, was it? I am Raephael Buchvold. I am aMagicain, shopkeeper and researcher. You have come from Demintilu?"

Conrad smiles, and replies in a rich, carefully modulated voice, "That is correct, Monsieur Buchvold...though I have spent some time in Mordent as well, in recent years. Might I ask the subject of your researches?"

"The mortal mind, you say? Fascinating ... I'm often hard-put even to understand my own mind, let alone other peoples'," quips Crow to the redheaded new arrival, slipping back into jest. He waves a servant to come see to Conrad's well-being with a drinks tray.

Conrad smiles at Crow's jest. "Many Humans like to believe that we are complex, mysterious creatures with minds so powerful and multileveled that nobody could even begin to understand us. I myself have sometimes fallen prey to my own egotism in this regard. Sadly though, I have found that Humanity's greatest talent may be our capacity for self delusion. When all the cant and illusion is stripped away, we tend to be much simpler creatures than we would like to believe."

"Greetings! We are brothers in Shadows!," said Viktor, raising his glass with one of the Fraternity's mantra.

Conrad smiles at Viktor and takes a glass of his own from the tray the servant whom Crow summoned is carrying. "And in the Shadows, we shall find the Truth, my Brother," he replies as he returns the toast.

[Scipion_Emilien]

Vili was a little uncomfortable :" Ahem, hum, yes it s a good reason to call that meal like that, i ll go into the dinning room to taste of it"

"I was kidding you, of course. Do not let my snubbish manners in the way. Nova Vaasan have a lot to teach us"

"Hum hum Yes I hope"

On this Vili let Viktor with his gnome fellow and go into the dining room.

[Lucius]

A man enters the great hall. He is dressed all in black with a black cloak pending from his shouders. He has a very long black hair, pale skin, a deep gaze in his black and cold eyes, but is still possible to see a little sadism in his face. He is wearing black gloves and boots. Around his neck you can see a silver pendant in the form of an unknown rune.

He presents himself with a deep gutural voice with a strange accent, but even as dark as his voice is it sounds captvating.

"Hail gentleman. I came from a distant place, and I must say that my journey through the surrounding lands was a rare pleasure. Indeed...a pleasure, I must confess I´m magnified by the culture of the countries of the so called "Core".

Well, pardon, I forgot my education, I should first appologize for my delay, I had unfinished business...I had.

And I sohuld say that the honor is mine for being here, you an call me Abaddon...."

After a pause and a grim mood on his face he continues

"Lucius fer Abaddon"

Taking a glass of wine.

[Viktor Hazan]

"Mr Abaddon? Nice to meet you, I'm Hazan. Viktor Hazan. May I ask where you are from?", asked Viktor (while again looking at the man's finger for the Fraternity ring).

"Diner is served, please come to the dining room"

[Grey Arcanist]

Conrad sets down his drink, which he has only barely touched, and goes to the dining room.

[Mayhew Donovan]

Dashing into the building a young Darkonain gentleman all but hurls his invitation towards the butler along with his cloak and hat and hustles towards the Dinning Room.

[Pamela]

If any observer bothered to turn Gertrude’s way, they would perceive a woman approaching middle-age, of handsome demeanour. She seemed absorbed in the music of the nearby playing orchestra, her head tilted towards them. Her quiet gaze drifted about the room, pausing to consider the various paintings and fine furniture. In other words, not a threat, and unworthy of notice.

Needless to say, Professor Kingsley had not travelled miles for niceties. Tilting her head permitted her free ear to pick up ongoing conversations, as she willed herself to let the melodic strains fade into the background of her consciousness. The articles she admired were near speakers, and she observed them indirectly, taking in body language. Who seemed to stiffen when a new guest entered the room? Who did they congregate around? And most important, who were the alpha males in this gathering?

They call mine the weaker sex, vain and caught up in petty concerns. Yet hear they are, cocks of the walk, busily strutting and fluffing up their feathers, marking their intellectual territory.

Look at them congregate about Hazan; that’s at least one leader of the pack. I wonder if- She paused, slightly startled when the Dementlieuse met her eyes and held them. She kept her mind still, focused upon him till he turned away. She gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, and turned her physical attention as far from him as she could.

Impressive, she thought. He had not let his gaze wander over her figure, or let his eyes glaze over in seeming indifference. Such small courtesies gained her immediate, conditional respect. She wondered if Hazan had seen through her charade, and decided to keep her gaze away from that particular corner. Her hearing of course was focused there.

Lauren Hartly…She was well familiar with the name, having read all his works; her field of interest was the relationship between belief, magic and culture. She herself was in the process of writing a book whose working title was The Religion of Magic. It compared arcane studies to clerical ones: chants, ritual gestures, and odd objects used to focus power. As a sorcerer, she had no patience with the pretence that her magic was more primitive. I at least do not need to carry odds and ends around in my pockets like a boy in a field. Was Hartly at all familiar with her work? Beyond the issue of gender, geography played a role in academic politics. Paridon, despite its technological advances, was often considered a backwater to many of those on the mainland. Unruffle your feathers, madame; while we are on poultry metaphors, do not count your chickens before they are hatched. If he is unfamiliar with your work, it is his own loss. And if he is acquainted with it, then perhaps you may return the same route, and share a few ideas. She did not agree with many of his theories, but she did appreciate a good debate.

She looked around as the latest gentleman stated her own view on the existence of the divine. Well, well, an open mind…how intriguing…Crow?

Her curiosity about this young man was temporarily turned aside by the announcement of van Rijn’s arrival. Bloody sun, are we hear to hear his latest research, or witness his death?! She rose from her seat, a look of concern about her face. Ugh, look at the blood; I hope it isn’t contagious…She was sorry she hadn’t worn her gloves, but relieved that the elderly professor was too tired to finish the gamut of introductions. I will be sure to put them on before dinner, then…

She caught de Chateaufaux’ introduction. A student of the mortal mind? A psychologist, or an alienist? Hopefully not a phrenologist, she thought with some amusement. Ah- and that must be the renowned Ambrose Skully. If only he were able to pour more attention into his writings than into his cups… Her hands unconsciously moved to smooth her skirts, and bring them closer about her. She knew that gnomes were not tiny lechers who liked to peer under ladies’ skirts. This one however seemed the kind to live up to the stereotype.

She quietly followed the gentlemen into the dining room, curious to see if there were seating arrangements, and if so, whom they would put beside her...

[alhoon]

Draxton Serd, a rich merchant of average height about 50 years old, dressed in a dark blue costume gives his pistol and his coat to the battler and mingles with the rest members in the hall. After a few social obligations are out of the way, he moves towards the dining room.

[Jeffery Terrence]

A carriage wobbles up to the Manor, it's wheel looking damaged and hastily repaired. A single cloaked figure emerges and walks briskly into the house repeatedly checking his pocket watch.

"Bloody hell." he mutters under his breath,