[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] [hr] [center][img]https://s3.eu-central-1.wasabisys.com/devonilx7/2020/04/forest_path_dark_150398_1920x1080-1536x864.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [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] [hr] [center][@psych0pomp][@Prosaic][@Penny][/center] The wide eyes behind the mask of [b]Miss White[/b] did not falter from the face of [b][color=7ea7d8]Simon Hart[/color][/b] as he spoke. His quick explanation even drew a smile from the young woman, and she went to open her mouth, apparently to reply, to answer the question that had been burning on Simon's mind since he had first noticed her shoulders stiffen at the sight of [b]Doctor Green[/b], and then the spell broke. The rattle of wheels on the road, the crack of horseshoes striking stone, and another carriage emerged from the darkness, and drew to a sharp halt beside the unusual pair. Simon and Miss White both turned towards the interruption, and found themselves looking into the grinning face of a striking woman. Grinning widely, [b][color=008000]Opportunity Knox[/color][/b] greeted the pair, and invited them aboard. Beyond the unusual sight of a woman leaning from a window, Simon could just make out another figure within the carriage, short and lean. At first, the journalist was a little taken aback, both by the invitation itself, and the vessel of the invitation, but once again, Miss White was the picture of charm. Taking a step closer to the carriage, the pale-haired woman nodded her head in greeting to the newcomer, her voice ringing out. [b]"Your offer is a generous one. If you are bound for Wilde Hall, is there space enough for myself, and my companion?"[/b] Before Opportunity could reply, more noise broke out in the silence, even above the panting of the carriage horse. Footsteps. From the shadows that stretched out like clawing hands from the depths of the Wilde Woods, three figures stepped into the pale lamplight. The leader was slender, well-dressed, with a smile written across his face. In his wake came another man, [b][color=ac2100]Moses Reaves[/color][/b], taller and broader, and a woman, dressed all in black and petite next to her two companions. It was the leader who spoke first, striding towards the carriage. [b]"Good evening, one and all. I dare say, it's jolly good to see you folks. I'm afraid the Deacon, the Mademoiselle and myself have been on somewhat of a detour. Are we all bound for Wilde Hall?"[/b]