[h2][color=964B00]Grimi Ekleipein[/color][/h2][h3][color=964B00]Location: The Grim Lodge -> The Speak Easy -> Office of Crowns[/color][/h3]

The first time he had met Miss Light was a trying experience for the old man. He was unsure if he could really trust her. However, he didn’t really trust people… did he? Perhaps he was getting too old, too soft. He could see his comrades from the past in these fun younglings. Perhaps they reminded him of his son who he hadn’t seen in years. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but hide his smile for them. They would or could live to do great things. He hoped. These thoughts were swirling around in his head as his head rested on the cool table. He could smell the coppery smell accustomed with bloodletting. 

His smile waned when he thought about Miss Light’s first contract. The one cut to ribbons. The one he braided together and hung on his chair. It was his form of “fatherly” affection for these kids. A reminder of what makes each one special and why he fights for what he believes is right. He could tell when she stepped closer. Could feel her presence. All he did was raise his hand in order to shake hers. That was their contract. 

He was listening to the conversation as best as he could. Sometimes his eyes would fail him so he diverted his senses elsewhere. He was never one to just walk into an area without knowing the crowd, escape routes, safety zones, guards and their patrols. It was nice that Iota took the lead in gathering the information. Which for him was a nice reprieve. With his will he summoned his butler and had him work on formal clothing for everyone. Knowing their personalities, likes, dislikes; he had hoped that the costumes would be to their liking. 

Unfortunately, masks and makeup would be replaced with hats, fans, and spectacles. There were going to be a few options for each person. However, given the limited timeframe there won’t be many. The almost invisible form moved through the area into the dressing room. It pulled an empty rack and started collecting and gathering the required clothing. Art was another form of entertainment. However, it was something that teetered on the edge of allowance within the kingdom. Mainly because people liked fashion and it was a sign of status as well. 

Grimi waited for everyone to finish signing the paper and took it. Once he had it he slid it into a drawer. Were it up to him he would do without all of this. Perhaps again it was a sign of him getting soft in his old age. Perhaps his mind was going and all he wanted was to recall the pleasant memories. With a grin he lifted his head off the table and watched the illusions. Quite fascinating. In another life he would have been a scholarly type. Someone much like his friend in the past. She could do things like this but that is what it was. The past. His features changed as he wanted to know why. Why did he keep going to the past when it had been ages since he last spoke with them? 

Grimi didn’t want to interrupt the festivities with one of his old stories. Not again. He grabbed his staff and opened the drawer with the contract. Once he finished that he took it with him and shut the drawer. He moved over to what looked like a bookshelf made for scrolls. The diamond shaped cutouts held many scroll cases and he pulled an empty one from a basket nearby. Opening it was a simple task… for most. Grimi however, had issues with these things. A stream of curses in different languages came pouring from his mouth much like someone trying to expel a night of bad drinking.

Eventually he remembered that they had twisting lids and turned it the correct way. He didn’t even look back as he was so frustrated at this point. Finally he rolled up the parchment and placed it into the scroll case. Once finished he looked for a specific place to allow it to rest. It was his form of trust in his patrons. Then again this room was sealed and had a joint locking mechanism. This was why he had issues unlocking the door sometimes. Because things as mundane as placing a key into a hole or two was hard for him. 

His fingers stroked the strings that he took from the lute earlier and he went to another wall. Many strings like this set hung on the wall. Feeling the type of string was the trick. That and he needed to keep them waxed in order to keep them in shape. Which animal did it come from or what type of metal? It really depended on who manufactured it. However, he could always tell if it was different from what he already had in his collection. He found the spot where the strings belonged and placed them with their new family. Heck as far as he knew they were from the same animal. Once finished he moved back to the group and listened to the plan and only then would he try to improve it, if needed.