[h2][b][i][color=008000][center]In This Fine Town Of Arkham[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h2]
[h3][b][i][color=008000][center]A Night At Wilde Hall[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
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[center][img]https://s3.eu-central-1.wasabisys.com/devonilx7/2020/04/forest_path_dark_150398_1920x1080-1536x864.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][b]"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown"[/b] - [i]H. P. Lovecraft[/i][/center]
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[center][@Dark Cloud][/center]
	Arkham has a dark reputation, and Wilde Hall is no different. Perhaps it is that dark reputation that draws [b][color=gray]Morgan Eisenhorn[/color][/b] to the house, like a moth is drawn to a flame. The invitation in his pocket is more than just a slip of paper, it is a promise. A promise of something, something that Morgan is not yet entirely sure of, but that he cannot resist. And so, the private investigator finds himself walking the streets of Arkham alone, as the evening stretches into the night. Or at least, he thought he was alone. 

	He had written it off as a coincidence at first, just another pair of footsteps among those few that sill braved the streets of Arkham after dark, another figure moving through the shadows, but with each turn that Morgan makes, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up a little bit more. The streets are quieter now, as he moves away from the heart of the city, and out towards the edge of the Wilde Woods, but still, he can hear the footsteps behind him. Whenever he glances over his shoulder, the footsteps pause, and a few times Morgan has caught sight of a figure stepping into the shadows. And when he starts walking again, the footsteps resume. Morgan is still some distance from the meeting point designated on his invitation, and with each passing moment, the streets grow a little darker, and a little quieter. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, his paranoia creating a phantom, or perhaps Arkham is keen to prove that it's dark reputation is a fitting one...

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[center][@Penny][/center]
	While many of the guests to Wilde Hall this evening may be awed by the opulence of the grand old house, [b][color=008000]Opportunity Knox[/color][/b] is likely to feel almost at home. After all, the Knox family has a history that is as impressive and storied as the Wildes, and Opportunity is no stranger to impressive estates. Despite this, Arkham doesn't exactly excite the young dilettante. Too quiet, and altogether too slow. And yet, she has her reasons for making the journey to this corner of Massachusetts, and the words of her family still ringing in her ears. 

	Just because Opportunity needs to reach Wilde Hall at some point, does not mean she is in any great rush. After all, the old house has stood for generations, it's not going anywhere. The Excelsior Hotel is an impressively grand lodging, and it is naturally the place that has drawn the adventuress. Not only does the bar offer a welcome distraction for the bleakness of the city, but it also allows Opportunity to rub shoulders with the Americans that she has such a fondness for. The British are too stuffy, but the Americans understand the rush of speed, the freedom of the air. Her evening is a whirl of conversation and drink, until that conversation suddenly subsides, and Opportunity turns to find a dark-clothed figure standing in the doorway. The man stands at around six feet, broad shouldered and stern-faced. She notices the crest of the Wildes on his chest at the same moment that he speaks, his voice booming. 

	[b]"Lady Dalrymple. Your carriage is waiting."[/b]