[right][h3][b][i][color=B100de]Master Plum[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=B100de]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=B100de][i][b]Location: [/b][/i][/color]Shadowell Manor: Chair 15 
[color=B100de][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=B100de][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color]  6
[color=B100de]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]

[i]
Another is raised up;
Lifted too High!
Mistress who sits on the top:
Let her beware of chair!
[/i]

Slinking behind like a lagging tail, a shadow no doubt, the pair watched keenly as the chairs above them squabbled like insolent children. Were their heads so full of fat that they were perfectly insulated against the cold? Yet his attempt to slip into the background was not unnoticed. His little eye did spy a saddled sneer, jauntingly grinning with a glaring gaze, dauntingly perhaps to inspire fear but he remained unfazed. A short little man puffing hot air, but worthy of note as he sat in his chair, as the sound of uproar caught the birds aware. It seemed far beyond their reach something had happened, and the ex-passed-out traveler was now up and about, perhaps tiring of that brutish villain as they sought another chair. And more so it appeared another petulant guest had plopped his black-masked face in the penultimate chair to deny her. A shame truly, but the game of chairs had no end as from what he could strain to tell, no such exchange was made between the doctor and devil. And the temper of the haughty man, oh he screamed for attention didn't he? The first to bark orders at the staff so eagerly. It is the squeaky wheel which gets the grease...

Oh but what is this? Another jester? Playing at puns and riddles, the rhymes sloppily done. Twas the late comer who had the gall to mimic him. His attention and that of his companion's turned away from the faint sound of hooves trampling the road as a pair of eyes and an eye stared intently at the grey irises of the blonde. Such mockery no doubt, that he come late and hold up the rest of the party. It was cold, very cold, and neither of them enjoyed wasting anymore time in this bitter limbo. Was there another to come? Such were the whispers and commotion. Chairs it seemed were a rare commodity, a fact worthy of note as perhaps the Ambesire wished to eliminate them one by one by one, piece by piece.

[color=B100de]
You speak without caws or crow,
Without rhyme nor reasons sing,
Now I must beg of you to know,
What ill fortunes do you bring?
Perhaps wait for warmer climes,
Before exchanging our rhymes.
[/color]

A flap of wings and cawing, ruffled the feathers of his raven friend. The two of them intently staring at the man making idle conversation. There was no need for this conversation, at least as far as he could see such chatter could better be had indoors. And with any luck, this conversation could cease.