[h3]The Quiet[/h3][hr]

As the various guildmembers stood outside of the gate, the mansion gave off an eerie feeling, despite it looking as if it was constructed within the past 3 years. It was quiet. Very little movement came from within the mansion and the only movement outside of the mansion came from outside came from a slowly dying wind. The cool breeze rattled the gate, breaking the silence. After a minute or so more of waiting, a tall figure came out of the mansion. What appeared to be a young man wearing an old suit hobbled out of the front door towards the gate. It was an odd sight to see someone so young with a bad leg, but nonetheless, he was there. The man slowly walked towards the gate and once he arrived at the gate, unlocked the half-dozen of locks that closed the gate. The man was absolutely silent. Even the way he released the locks left little noise. After the final lock fell, he dragged the gate open. His silence was broken by three words.

[color=a187be]"Please follow me."[/color]

His voice left very little impact in those who listened to it. Each word was spoken wearily and with fear. He barely looked the guildmembers in the eye when he spoke. What little glances they could take of his eyes would reveal a slight look of desperation behind those dying marbles. Without so much as an whisper, he silently walked back towards the mansion's door and inside of the eerie home.

Those who would follow the young man would see that inside of the mansion was even more desolate that outside. The lobby of the mansion was large. In a vain attempt at security, everything that could be hid behind was tossed out of the mansion. Only the more expensive objects (vases, paintings and things of that sort) were left on their pedestals or walls. Even the chandelier was removed. To the right and left were stairwells, both curved in a circle and leading to the same place. Without any further hesitation, the man walked up the stairs.

It became apparent once whoever followed reached the second floor that the extent of paranoia gripped whoever "redesigned" the bottom floor tightly. The second floor was extremely dusty. What should have been fulled with maids had been replaced by small spiders. The man ignored the dust, as he always has, and walked to the hallway on the left. This hallway was slightly more lively than the rest of the second floor. It contained significantly less dust. Instead, small amounts of dirt was carried through the wooden floor. Upon reaching the final set of large double doors, the young man stepped off to the side. He opened one side and held it for the guildmembers who followed him.

The room was much different than the rest of the mansion. Instead of being empty, room was filled up with valuable goods. It appeared to be a fortune within the room. Despite this, the less valuable items were tossed around without remorse. Paper littered the floor. Trash huddled to one side of the room. It was a mix of luxury and waste that gave a off-putting appearance. However, there lay one spot against the side of the wall with almost nothing in it. There lay a grandfather clock, clicking every second. The time was 11:45. 15 minutes to midnight. Within the center of the room was a short man who seemed to be in his early 50s. He certainly wasn't attractive. Whatever looks he had would have faded when he was 10 years old. He was extremely chubby and short, but not fat. He wore what seemed to be a brand new suit as it was still extremely stiff. It appeared as if he had no relation to the young man from earlier. He paced around the room in a high panic. He muttered incomprehensible words to himself, so much so that he didn't notice the doors opening and anyone walking in.