[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][@Penny][[@Dark Cloud][/center]

For a long moment, [b][color=gray]Morgan Eisenhorn[/color][/b] didn't move, seemingly paralysed in the face of the coachman, and then he suddenly seemed to find his nerve, and one hand reached into his jacket pocket. The hand reappeared clutching the thick card that [b][color=008000]Opportunity Knox[/color][/b] recognised, as it was the same invitation that was in her own pocket. The coachman, seeming to grow impatient now, or perhaps just aware of how long they had already dallied on the steps of The Excelsior, took the invitation from Morgan's hand, holding it towards the light spilling out from the hotel as his eyes scanned the text. 

	[b]"Mister Slate."[/b]

	Passing the invitation back to the other man, the coachman gestured again towards the open door of the carriage, his face visibly softening as he turned back to Opportunity. 

	[b]"If you're ready ma'am, we really should be going. Lady Wildes doesn't like to be kept waiting."[/b]

	As if on cue, a wind howled down the street, suddenly filling the air with a bitter chill, and the coachman glanced back towards the street that Morgan had arrived from, squaring his jaw. Whether it had been the creation of an overactive imagination, or something altogether more sinister, whatever it was that had hounded Morgan towards the Excelsior has clearly unsettled the coachman, and it was evident to both of the guest's that it wasn't just the ire of his employer that was causing the man to hurry them along. 

	Seeming to remember his manners, Morgan took a step closer to the carriage, before offering his hand to help Opportunity climb aboard. Whether she took his hand or not, he followed after her into the carriage, and almost before they were seated, it started forwards, the cry of the coachman as the horses began to move. 

	There was a few beats of silence, the only sound coming from the carriage wheels and horses hooves against the street, before Morgan turned towards Opportunity, a sheepish smile on his face as he attempted to strike up a conversation. 

	[b]"An unusual meeting, but I'm grateful for you allowing me to share your carriage. I assume you know the Wildes then?"[/b]