[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: Music Room (Piano Bench)
[color=B100de][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] Perception
[color=B100de][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color]  6
[color=B100de]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]


[i]
Hear the tolling of the bells, wonder bells...
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels.
In the silence of the night, How we sadly lack insight.
[/i]

Bells. What alarm do they bring? Snapping him from thoughts. Ill omens of their doom? Or perhaps the herald of a dinner to be served? A death knell or dinner bell. Neither which Plum could not tell, and waved off for as of now he was alive and well. Stretching his legs perhaps resembling a rising stork, or more aptly a wandering scarecrow, the man left his post with bird in hand. There was a piano in the room, yes, a piano. Not a harpsichord or organ, but a piano. How much did one of these cost to possess? The man rubbed his chin with a curled finger as he eyed the awaiting instrument. The chair was inviting him to sit, to sit behind the piece, as grand and beautiful as it were. The inlays of ivory keys like alabastar, and ebony as black as jet. The wood exquisitely polished with a fine varnish waiting for a touch.

Behind him the breakfast room, to which his raven had turned towards to view the snacking women. The beady eyes so astutely grim, as if to grant its master eyes on the back of his head. That or its hunger thought to case down the bits of human meat with something sweet. A hunger that made the black feathered turn its claws and feet, and at a moment's noticed fly to eat. Yet the master gave not the command to fly as Plum turned his back on the ladies, such fairer genders would not care to bother him much.