[right][h3][b][i][color=lightsteelblue]Justice Cobalt[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=lightsteelblue]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=lightsteelblue][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Shadowell Manor: Confinement (Attic)
[color=lightsteelblue][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] Dexterity
[color=lightsteelblue][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 6
[color=lightsteelblue]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]

	Cobalt was quickly growing impatient again. Being trapped inside this 'Confinement' had been bad enough, but he felt like he had been fumbling in the dark for hours now. Even now that the window of escape, or rather the door, had been opened, it still remained infuriatingly out of reach. Not only that, but it was cold, true cold now. Ever since the lamps had spluttered out, he had felt the chill in the air, but now it was bitterly cold, and it cut through his dinner attire like he was wearing nothing at all. He clamped his teeth together to stop them from chattering, and then pushed forwards. He practically ran towards the dim outline of the door, desperate for whatever freedom the space beyond could offer. 

	Cobalt didn't know if it was the cold, the darkness, or some combination of the two, but his judgement proved to be a little... off. Instead of the welcoming embrace of freedom that the door promised, Cobalt instead found himself becoming far more acquaintance with the rather unwelcoming embrace of the wall a few feet to the left of the doorway. With a dull thud, Cobalt collided with the wall, the force of it sending him staggering back a pace, trying to blink away the daze. Through some stroke of luck, he emerged from his brief encounter remarkably unscathed, aside from a slight headache, and a stinging nose. He glanced around, but in the darkness he couldn't know if anyone was nearby, or had been in any position to witness his mistake. The darkness may well have been a blessing in this case, for Cobalt hardly wanted his fellow guests to think he was a simpleton. After all, he knew how much his opinion of 'the planner' had dipped after she had managed to impale her own leg. 

	As if on cue, Cobalt heard a voice that he recognized all too well cry out, followed by a resounding thud, the distinctive sound of something heavy falling to the ground with some force. It was still too dark for Cobalt to make out his own hand in front of his face, let alone anything happening anywhere else in the room, but judging by the groans and sounds of movement that followed the thud, it sounded like 'the planner' had unfortunately survived whatever had caused them to cry out. A shame, but by the sounds of it, they were likely to trip and fall down the first stairs they came to, darkness or otherwise. A more cynical man might comment on the hypocrisy of Cobalt condemning someone for their inclination towards accidents, but thankfully, Cobalt was not a more cynical man, and despite the stinging pain still emanating from his nose, he failed to see the irony. 

	Turning back towards the door, or at least where he was pretty sure the door was, Cobalt tried to shake the last of the daze from his head, ignoring the slight ringing in his ears. He was going to get out of this room, even if it meant running through a wall. For a start, outside meant freedom and warmth. And more importantly, there were a lot more pretty women outside than there were inside.