
You glance at the large mirror in the drawing room noting with approval that the new
downstairs maid, Paulette, had dusted the ornate carvings with the precision you requested
of her. Your gaze strays for an instant to the glass itself, and you meet the eyes of your
reflection.
You critically examine your slender, tuxedo-clad figure. Not one stray hair or fleck of
dust mars the perfection of your trim, tuxedo-clad form. You nod your head in approval. A
fire burns in the stone firepit in the center of the room. The light from the brass and
crystal chandelier reflects warmly from the heavy, polished wood of the furniture. The
setting sun shines with pinks and salmons through the west windows as it starts dipping
below the treeline. Everything is just as it should be.
For a moment, you consider how little has changed about the room and the mansion as a
whole since your grandfather's day. All you can find are little differences like the
electric lights replacing candles for illumination. Nothing of importance.
Like your father and your father's father before him, you belong here in Ravenswood Manor.
It is home. You have served the Ravenswood family as their butlers for three generations.
For a time, your father despaired when he had only one daughter, until you convinced him
that you wished to continue the family tradition and that your gender did not matter.
Recently, the Ravenswood fortunes diminished sharply until the staff only consisted of
you, a downstairs maid, an upstairs maid, the cook, and the gardener.
The household had been much fuller and brighter before Master Henry and his wife divorced.
With her went the children, the Ravenswood hounds, and most of the staff. You remained,
constant and faithful to Ravenswood.
The grandfather clock chimes the hour. Six. It grows late. Master Henry should have
returned from his walk quite some time ago. He rarely stayed out past five. Per Master
Henry's routine, Cool always serves dinner promptly at six.
Outside, barely heard though the thick mansion walls, a wolf howls. The hair on the back
of your neck rises. The sound had a lonely feel to it. An echoing call for companionship.
Your brow furrows. It has been some time since you've heard the once-common wolf cry in
the Raven's Wood. You worry about Master Henry. He had never developed his predecessors'
affinity for hunting, often joking that the only shooting he ever did was with his camera.
The room grows dim as the autumn sun sets.
You feel torn between wanting to wait for Master Henry's return and being here to greet
him and attend to his needs and wanting to go look for him since you know his most common
walking route.
Will you wait for Master Henry's return or go outside in search of him?
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Page Updated: Oct. 30, 1996
©1996 Mayfair Games