User blog:Stormlilly/e1m2

 The upper level is filled with dust, so thick that it makes you wonder exactly how long it has been since your Host – if it was your Host – left this world. In that case... The idea of someone else having organize the party drifts into your mind as you prop open the door to the study, or perhaps the Host's personal library.



 Inside, the Financier is feverishly flipping through texts, a sconce stolen from the downstairs array doing little to light up the papers in front of him. He smiles wanly as you approach.



“ Didn't expect anyone else to come up here. I'm – glad for the company, truth be told. Look, I don't know if this is an area you can help but... I think there might be something here that could help us out. If you can figure out your situation, you're a step ahead of your enemies, or so they say.”



 Sighing, he runs a hand through his black hair, staring at the ceiling.



“ See – our Host was quite the man of letters. I'm wondering if maybe we can figure out when he stopped writing them, and from that point, when he, uh, bit it. So to say. All the better if we could maybe find out something more from any of them. Problem being, well, look at them all!” Motioning expansively with one hand, the Financier sighs.



 You pull up a stool and prepare to help when a soft knock interrupts you both. The Financier sighs crossly. “Come in.”

 The stench of smoke clings to the books around you as the Aristocrat lets herself in with a smug smile. Her left hand nestles a large tin case against her side.

 “So unhappy to see me! And here I thought we were already firm friends.”



 Rolling his eyes, the Financier looks a bit less exasperated – though only a bit.



<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in">“ I wouldn't call us friends, but you're an enemy I'm willing to tolerate. Why don't you do something useful and try to read some of these with us?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in">“ Sounds fun. I've always enjoyed rifling through the possessions of others – I was hoping to rest earlier, but dreadful sounds from the Conservatory kept me up. I think the Major is digging through planters for whatever reason...”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in"> The two engage in mild, apolitical conversation – and you decide to take your cue to check on the rest of the mansion. You:

<p style="text-align: LEFT; margin-bottom: 0in">Head to the Conservatory to investigate the sounds.

<p style="text-align: LEFT; margin-bottom: 0in">Decide to head up to the Library, perhaps read something.

<p style="text-align: LEFT; margin-bottom: 0in">Go to the Kitchen.

<p style="text-align: LEFT; margin-bottom: 0in">Return to the Foyer.