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[h1][color=FireBrick] Samhain Intrigues [/color][/h1]
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[h2][color=FireBrick]-The Collector-[/color][/h2]
[h3][color=FireBrick]-Location: The Ruined Lands-[/color][/h3]
"Welcome to my collection, mortals." The creature bowed low to the humans filling the spacious hall before him. The hall was not something of greatness, it was long past it's time of glory. The windows cracked and admitting the pale light from the sunny day. Moss and grasses forced their way though the flagstones. As branches of vines invaded where windows once were. About the entrances to the hall were suits of armor, rusted and rent though they were. Their long halberds however were keen edged. Bloodied still form whatever they once fought. The collector however turned to bow to the figures about the balconies. Tall and short, they wores the faces on monster and those of friends. Fae watched the mortals below. Freshly brought from their native Realm. They had been their for mere hours. Handed off from those who had brought them. A few had tried to run, only to be turned about and find themselves shacked to the posts that supported the rotting roof.

Tilting his golden head, a woman- perhaps a man?- watched from their chair. A thing of golden wood and green velvet. With fine features and strong nature about them. Yygdrasil lounged in his chair. [color=ForestGreen]"Oh, my~!"[/color] The great Dyrad sighed. [color=ForestGreen]"Look at all the pretty new servants. A shame my husband isn't here to enjoy this with me."[/color] Fluttering a fan in front of his face, the woman gave a pout. Her/His robes flowing about them in something reminiscence of a airy kimono. The forlorn look towards unoccupied chair of black and silver was unmistakable. The grey cloaked figure that stood between the chairs ignored the interruption.

None truly knew what the Collector was other than a gatherer of things. Of objects.  A robe of thick grey with age, patched enough times it's original material was lost. His face was covered by the grey tendrils of his hair and a small ragged beard was seen coming from the depths of that shadow as well. Spreading his weathered hands, their nails cracked and yellow with age, he spoke once again. "Welcome to my collection, I am sad to inform you, that you may not remain." The hand before the empty chair closed into a fist. "My Lord King of the UnSeelie Courts, who has not been able to join us." His wheezing voice did not betray any dislike as his mirrored the motion on the side of Yygdrasil. "My Lord-" [color=ForestGreen]"Lady-Queen."[/color] "King of the Seelie Courts. You will separate into two groups. You will leave this place and take up what your Lord-King" [color=ForestGreen]"Lady-Queen!"[/color] "-commands. This is why you have been brought to our Realm. I have little care as to why you sold, or we were sold, your life." His hands folded before him. "You may decide, or we will force you. We are not unkind."

There was a round of jeering laughter at this last comment.
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