[center][color=rosybrown]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][h1][b][color=rosybrown][i]𝕄achiavellian 𝕄asquerade[/i][/color][/b][/h1][img]https://image.ibb.co/hOqBNp/titleimage.jpg[/img]
[color=rosybrown]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/center][right][h3][b][i][color=rosybrown]𝕊etting 𝕋he 𝕆pening 𝕊cene[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=rosybrown]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]
[indent][color=rosybrown][b]⊰𝕊eason/𝕎eather⊱[/b][/color]  
[indent][i]The Winter is upon the land of Rutas Mu, it is of course the thirteenth day of winter. That is when your invitation told you to arrive for the masquerade. Winter does mean cold. The Ambesire home is located in the center of Shadowell Forest and that is situated in the eye of the world. The current temperature? It is a brisk 27 degrees, this is not horrible for this time of year but there is still a bitter chill in the air. Clouds cover the sky, rolling their shades of gray above the tops of the trees. The air is damp and makes the cold cling to exposed skin. [/i][/indent][/indent]
[indent][color=rosybrown][b]⊰𝕋ime 𝕆f 𝔻ay⊱[/b][/color]  
[indent][i]As per your invitation, you are arriving at Dusk. With it being winter the light dwindles early and is fully Night Light by 5 p.m. - You arrive to the gates just prior. [/i][/indent][/indent]
[indent][color=rosybrown][b]⊰𝔸mbiance/𝕊ights⊱[/b][/color]  
[indent][i]There is a very short amount of day light during the winter and the clouds roll over head, the feeling in the air even before entering [url=https://image.ibb.co/k7Ftz8/Shadowell_Forest.jpg]Shadowell Forest[/url] is ominous. Yet as you pass through the line of trees on the road to the Ambesire home located deep within, there is a heavy feeling of foreboding that presses down on one both physically and mentally. 
	
	The [url=https://image.ibb.co/fOisCp/insidetheforest.jpg]road[/url] through the forest is lined on each side with dense woods. Much of the underbrush is dying away and the first snow of the year has not occurred but there is a fog that rolls over the path constantly and one can hear the silence. That dead silence that creeps in and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Every so often that silence is abruptly broken by a rustling, a bird cawing out in what sounds like pain, a wolf howling, or a tree limb snapping. Each sound is alone and before another is heard that silence creeps back in. 

	The road cuts through the forest and slowly in the distance something comes into view. Even to those with good vision it is difficult to make out due to the fog but eventually you will see the [url=https://image.ibb.co/msTj8U/frontgate.jpg]gate[/url]. On either side of it stretches a brick wall that stands seven feet in height and is worn. Atop of the wall resides razor sharp spikes, some of which seem stained with thick coagulated crimson. The gate is closed, locked. Who knew silence could grow to deafening levels. That is until it is broken as you all arrive.[/i][/indent][/indent]