[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 (Couch Left)
[color=B100de][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] N/a
[color=B100de][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 5
[color=B100de]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]

An audience he held, a star attraction, the greatest showman here. For around him they danced, they went from room to room encircling and entreating, with his life and death the center of it all. Upon the great wheel they turned, Rave flitted forward fetching, and two more came in their place. One had the fashion of an assassin,  white hooded and black masked, while the other was the absinthe queen, gowned green and glittered gold. Twas the story the one in white demanded, as the one in green withdrew to afford the other a better view. Then come for an encounter with the raven and raconteur.

[color=b100de]
"Oh where to begin but the end, 
I am wounded between the toes,
Make yourself at ease friend,
And listen to a tale of woes.
Twas Madam Mauve who betrayed,
Sat with me exchanging words,
And so I mingled and she played,
With hands outreached for my bird.
She broke into unprovoked attack,
And I grasped my dagger to warn,
But before I could repel her back,
Twas my blade which went airborne.
Missed its mark as fortunes turned,
And from its fall my wound was earned."
[/color]

His story laid in fourteen lines, the longest retelling yet. Quickly said upon hurried lips, with a single hand gesturing the dramatic flair to the hastened rhythm of his singsong voice. There was a villain in the piece, the malicious Madam Mauve, armed with a dagger that he excluded to tell in his recounting of events. But now the stage was set. And now all Plum needed was a savoir.