The Deadly Dinner at the Citadel (Closed)

[Philomel]

"What do you mean my name is not on the list?"

Folded arms, narrowed eyes, a stern look on that sublimely featured face.

Beneath the mighty gaze of this tall, irritated and powerful faun a man withered and suddenly wished it had not been he who had been given this task today. It had not been he who lost the drawing of lots and had ended up with the graveyard shift. That it had not been he who had to bear the brunt of facing off every angry aristocrat who thought they should be invited to this ostentacious party but actually wasn't.

"I - I ... Mmmm-Madam," he mumbled, his fingers anxiously working on the corner of the scrolled parchment in his hands, "I - I uh, well, that is."

At five foot two Gerard Hu was a short man and did not look impressive. With mousey features and even mousier brown hair he was not the usual type that one might consider for a valet. Yet, his temprement was kind and polite, and he had a good heart and a loud voice with which to annouce - when he chose to use it. Therefore, so long as there was a man of security with him Gerard often found himself on door duty in the grand Citadel's formal events, because people liked him.

Though apparently not this massive faun, all muscle and generous curves, dressed in ornate silver jewellry and fashionable silks, and looked very unimpressed. A massive explosion of violet hair was arranged around her shoulders, framing a grey-eyed face, one that was slowly turning more red.

Quickly he consulted his scroll again, his eyes glancing back to the others who stood in line, waiting to get into room 13. Currently they took up a large corridor within the Citadel, the birdsong and bright sunshine of a promising party spilling from the slight ajar door. That was where the true festivities would be held, that was where the danger was.

That was where the detective, a man of rumour more than realism, waited.

Swallowing, and still unable to see the name Gerard looked back up to the woman, hoping that she did not use the huge dagger on her hip. Or the massive green-hilted sword on her back. Were weapons even permitted here?

"I ... I am truly sorry madam, but I do not see 'Philomel the Great' on here anywhere. I - I can ask but I am so terribly sorry, I must -"

Suddenly the faun whipped out a hand and grabbed the scroll from him. He let out a small whimper and the minotaur who was on security and who had thus far been detained in confiscating contact poison from an elderly noble finally returned. As the woman read through the names Gerard looked pleadingly at the minotaur who arched an eyebrow.

There was silence for several moments.

"Ah." A pause and Philomel returned the scroll, her finger prodding the page. "I see, my name is down differently." As Gerard took the paper back he was surprised to find her much happier, and prodding hard at a name, "Matriarch. That will be me," she grinned and nodded at Gerard, then the minotaur. "So sorry for that," she said and then stalked through the doorway into the huge, ornate garden beyond.

Such it was with the Citadel.

Smiling, Philomel nodded at the next person in the line and strode past the minotaur. Pushing open the door she was met by the swathes of green lawn and neat hedgerows - a pattern laid out in a blanket before the grand beige manor house. She could see others, who had previously been able to gain entrance into the room, walking slowly up to the house, couples and individuals pausing at flowers and delighting in the glory. But they all were going one direction, and that was straight forwards.

Philomel picked up her hooves and long burgundy skirt and sauntered down the path. She gave ornate nods to those who needed, and smiles to those who didn't. Behind her tottered a small fox, looking rather like a pet dog than anything tonight as he was freshly bathed and combed, and together they ascended the short stairs to the mansion's main door. There, standing in all his glory and smartness was the legend him, Detective Borough, pride and grandeur in his poise. He extended a hand, greeting the faun with one word, and that was:

"Welcome."