[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/oFbtccM.png[/img][/center][color=2f4f4f]""[/color]Another flash of lightning would briefly illuminate the dinning room, shinning through the half-open doors. This brief moment of clarity highlighted the true state of room in which the 'guests' were reunited. Not only were the unused chairs back in place, resting upside down over the table but also the whole room seemed old. The tablecloth, once of a pristine white, was now tattered and torn. A fine layer of dust settled over the furniture, cobwebs hanged from every nook and cranny, and the silverware was tarnished to an almost sable tone. Even the floorboards creaked as the walked around.

Once the flash of light and the usual blindness that followed it had been dealt with by all if the 'guests', those with better sight between them would be able to notice a faint source of light coming from the corridor outside. It danced like an open flame and, if anyone cared to check, they would see that indeed it was a pair of oil lamps, hanging from a brass hook in the wall.

The corridor itself as was long, spanning at least twelve yards to each side of the dinning room's double doors with two single doors equally spaced, both to it's left and right. The opposite wall had a set of eight big, dirty glass windows spaced equally between themselves. The windows were firmly nailed and had iron bars bolted to their outside, likely, to protect the mansion against thieves.

What kind of decision would the Rivianne's 'guests' take now?