Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 11:53:47 GMT -8
Sable Faust: Entries from a Journal
From the introduction storyline for Sable Faust
Entry 1:
Trina, Hector, William and I have discovered an abandoned estate. The building loomed like a sinister obstruction against the night sky, the moonlight illuminating it, causing the shadows below to consume us. My stomach was uneasy as we approached, however, during this night we did not enter the building. We stood outside, listening to any noises we might hear.
An hour is how long we stayed, listening and remaining as quiet as we could. I heard each breath Hector took and released, and they could be seen finding freedom in their light mists. Twice we heard what sounded like screaming from within. A few thumping noises reached our ears. That was within the first thirty minutes. The last half hour was still except for the cold breeze that seeped though our clothing.
We have made plans to visit it soon. For tonight, we stay within the comfort of the inn. We will make the appropriate preparations. After all, we know that what haunts these buildings can indeed cause harm to fall upon us.
Entry 2:
William and I uncovered information about the estate while Trina and Hector gathered the appropriate supplies for our visit. The estate is known to the locals as the “Scarborough Estate.” We took accounts from each individual we spoke with, and while there were variations within the stories, they all contained the same basic information.
Mr. Scarborough was a man of great wealth. He was an intellectual and earned his gold by teaching the children of other wealthy men and women. His wife was a woman named Claire whom the locals say was gifted at playing the harp. It was also said that she had a “voice of an angel.” She was a pretty woman with light hair that seemed to frame her face with a gentle glow, and that her eyes were as blue as the sea. That was not to say that Mr. Scarborough appeared awkward next to such a beauty. It was said that he was also quite handsome though physical descriptions of him were not as detailed. He was tall and he had long, sandy colored hair.
Their relationship seemed well despite that it was obvious Claire could not conceive a child. Instead the Scarboroughs adopted a little girl named Penelope. They said she looked as if she would be their child as she had hair similar to Mr. Scarborough’s and eyes like Claire’s.
Years went by, and many parties were hosted with little Penelope offering entertainment by playing what she knew on the harp. One evening they held an extravagant party. After Penelope entertained the guests, she was sent upstairs to bed while her parents continued to entertain the guests with conversation and dancing.
It was close to midnight when Claire said goodnight to the last guests. Mr. Scarborough had retreated to his study, and Claire went to check on her husband. When she entered his study, she saw him standing over the body of Penelope, a bloody dagger in his hand. Claire grabbed a poker from the fireplace and lunged it into his back.
The next morning the maids and the butler discovered the bodies of Penelope and Mr. Scarborough. Upon searching the house for Claire, they discovered her body hanging from the rafters in the attic.
There is much speculation on if Mr. Scarborough was the one who killed Penelope. Some believe the story as it is told while others believe one of the guests had a dark motive in mind that evening. Regardless, the events of that night were indeed tragic.
Entry 3:
Today we have come to the Scarborough Estate. In the sunlight, we could see just how dismal the building actually appeared. We could also the distinguish the smaller building that served as living quarters for the house workers. It was overgrown with vines and weeds, so much so that it was too difficult for us to find a way inside.
We did not waste time with worry over it, for it was where the family lived that was our primary concern. The path to the house was not as overgrown as if someone took the time every once in a while to cull back the wrath of the weeds and grass.
The air within the house is musty and has a faint hint of decay to it. Trina vomited a couple of times before she grew accustomed to the odor. Even now I still smell the decay, and it still makes me gag at times.
We have decided to make the parlor the room in which we eat and sleep. There is a spot near a torn portrait of a woman with a stern appearance that is sometimes cold. It falters, warming, and after a while the chill will return. Hector has chosen this spot as where he will sleep. It makes me uneasy. He says it is because I am sensitive, but I wonder if there is something sinister in this room.
Entry 4:
I am tired as I write this as the day and evening have been busy. We explored every area of the house, feeling for cold in the areas. The estate is only two stories which I find a blessing for it already has many rooms. The old furniture is still here and we dare not bother it for it is beginning to crumble.
We split up to make the investigation quicker. Together we chose our rooms or had them chosen for us. I was to search what remains of Penelope's room as well as the cellar.
I began with the little girl's room. What remained of her bed loomed in one corner, and the tattered curtains of the window fluttered from a draft that made its way within the walls. They were once pink but had faded and dirtied, no longer vibrant as I imagined they once had been. Toys were still scattered in the room, and there was a table along one wall along with a child's chair. The wood of the chair and table was splintered and warped. The bed's corner was the darkest area in the room, managing to escape most of the sunlight that shone through the window.
Walking around the room, I felt for anything unusual but I felt nothing but the cool draft seeping in from near the window. I sat on the floor within a square of it that was lighter than the rest, and tried to imagine the rug that had once been placed there. The image formed slowly in my mind as the colors weaved together. The pink of the rug matched the curtains but it also contained other colors. It was interrupted by spurts of beige and coral though it still remained mostly the vibrant pink. I focused on it a while longer but nothing else came into the picture I saw.
I turned my attention to a teddy bear that sat on the floor across from me. It was a pitiful looking toy with one eye and ear missing. However, any holes left were sewn closed, perhaps by Claire or one of the maids. I stood and walked over to it, but as I reached down to touch it, the bear toppled over onto its side. A sudden feeling of uneasiness overwhelmed me, and I retreated from the room.
After a few minutes of deep breathing, I collected myself and went downstairs. I found my way to the cellar door. I was taken aback by the large metal door. Not only was the door intimidating and out of place in appearance, but when I tried to pull it open, it would not budge. Upon closer inspection, I realized the door had to be locked from the inside. I could find no reason for this, but thought it a waste to wonder about the eccentricities of those with wealth. Instead, I placed my ear against the door and attempted to listen to anything inside. I thought I might hear the faint scurrying of mice. What I heard sent chills down my spine. It sounded as if someone was on the other side of the door, scraping something metal and sharp down the door.
I ran from it and returned to the parlor. Hector and William questioned me immediately, and I explained to them what I had heard. Both went to cellar, returning shortly after with confused expressions. Though they both admitted the door was odd, neither of them heard the noise. Hector called out to Trina and had her listen as well, but her report back was the same.
We decided to call it a day, and so now we rest. William will be the first to stay awake tonight. I hope that I find a moment's rest though my optimism of this notion is minimal.
Entry 5:
I am uncertain of the time when I awoke because I heard noises coming from upstairs. The floor was cold under my bare feet, and I felt the bumps form on my arms. The stairs creaked under my weight as I ascended them.
From the introduction storyline for Sable Faust
Entry 1:
Trina, Hector, William and I have discovered an abandoned estate. The building loomed like a sinister obstruction against the night sky, the moonlight illuminating it, causing the shadows below to consume us. My stomach was uneasy as we approached, however, during this night we did not enter the building. We stood outside, listening to any noises we might hear.
An hour is how long we stayed, listening and remaining as quiet as we could. I heard each breath Hector took and released, and they could be seen finding freedom in their light mists. Twice we heard what sounded like screaming from within. A few thumping noises reached our ears. That was within the first thirty minutes. The last half hour was still except for the cold breeze that seeped though our clothing.
We have made plans to visit it soon. For tonight, we stay within the comfort of the inn. We will make the appropriate preparations. After all, we know that what haunts these buildings can indeed cause harm to fall upon us.
Entry 2:
William and I uncovered information about the estate while Trina and Hector gathered the appropriate supplies for our visit. The estate is known to the locals as the “Scarborough Estate.” We took accounts from each individual we spoke with, and while there were variations within the stories, they all contained the same basic information.
Mr. Scarborough was a man of great wealth. He was an intellectual and earned his gold by teaching the children of other wealthy men and women. His wife was a woman named Claire whom the locals say was gifted at playing the harp. It was also said that she had a “voice of an angel.” She was a pretty woman with light hair that seemed to frame her face with a gentle glow, and that her eyes were as blue as the sea. That was not to say that Mr. Scarborough appeared awkward next to such a beauty. It was said that he was also quite handsome though physical descriptions of him were not as detailed. He was tall and he had long, sandy colored hair.
Their relationship seemed well despite that it was obvious Claire could not conceive a child. Instead the Scarboroughs adopted a little girl named Penelope. They said she looked as if she would be their child as she had hair similar to Mr. Scarborough’s and eyes like Claire’s.
Years went by, and many parties were hosted with little Penelope offering entertainment by playing what she knew on the harp. One evening they held an extravagant party. After Penelope entertained the guests, she was sent upstairs to bed while her parents continued to entertain the guests with conversation and dancing.
It was close to midnight when Claire said goodnight to the last guests. Mr. Scarborough had retreated to his study, and Claire went to check on her husband. When she entered his study, she saw him standing over the body of Penelope, a bloody dagger in his hand. Claire grabbed a poker from the fireplace and lunged it into his back.
The next morning the maids and the butler discovered the bodies of Penelope and Mr. Scarborough. Upon searching the house for Claire, they discovered her body hanging from the rafters in the attic.
There is much speculation on if Mr. Scarborough was the one who killed Penelope. Some believe the story as it is told while others believe one of the guests had a dark motive in mind that evening. Regardless, the events of that night were indeed tragic.
Entry 3:
Today we have come to the Scarborough Estate. In the sunlight, we could see just how dismal the building actually appeared. We could also the distinguish the smaller building that served as living quarters for the house workers. It was overgrown with vines and weeds, so much so that it was too difficult for us to find a way inside.
We did not waste time with worry over it, for it was where the family lived that was our primary concern. The path to the house was not as overgrown as if someone took the time every once in a while to cull back the wrath of the weeds and grass.
The air within the house is musty and has a faint hint of decay to it. Trina vomited a couple of times before she grew accustomed to the odor. Even now I still smell the decay, and it still makes me gag at times.
We have decided to make the parlor the room in which we eat and sleep. There is a spot near a torn portrait of a woman with a stern appearance that is sometimes cold. It falters, warming, and after a while the chill will return. Hector has chosen this spot as where he will sleep. It makes me uneasy. He says it is because I am sensitive, but I wonder if there is something sinister in this room.
Entry 4:
I am tired as I write this as the day and evening have been busy. We explored every area of the house, feeling for cold in the areas. The estate is only two stories which I find a blessing for it already has many rooms. The old furniture is still here and we dare not bother it for it is beginning to crumble.
We split up to make the investigation quicker. Together we chose our rooms or had them chosen for us. I was to search what remains of Penelope's room as well as the cellar.
I began with the little girl's room. What remained of her bed loomed in one corner, and the tattered curtains of the window fluttered from a draft that made its way within the walls. They were once pink but had faded and dirtied, no longer vibrant as I imagined they once had been. Toys were still scattered in the room, and there was a table along one wall along with a child's chair. The wood of the chair and table was splintered and warped. The bed's corner was the darkest area in the room, managing to escape most of the sunlight that shone through the window.
Walking around the room, I felt for anything unusual but I felt nothing but the cool draft seeping in from near the window. I sat on the floor within a square of it that was lighter than the rest, and tried to imagine the rug that had once been placed there. The image formed slowly in my mind as the colors weaved together. The pink of the rug matched the curtains but it also contained other colors. It was interrupted by spurts of beige and coral though it still remained mostly the vibrant pink. I focused on it a while longer but nothing else came into the picture I saw.
I turned my attention to a teddy bear that sat on the floor across from me. It was a pitiful looking toy with one eye and ear missing. However, any holes left were sewn closed, perhaps by Claire or one of the maids. I stood and walked over to it, but as I reached down to touch it, the bear toppled over onto its side. A sudden feeling of uneasiness overwhelmed me, and I retreated from the room.
After a few minutes of deep breathing, I collected myself and went downstairs. I found my way to the cellar door. I was taken aback by the large metal door. Not only was the door intimidating and out of place in appearance, but when I tried to pull it open, it would not budge. Upon closer inspection, I realized the door had to be locked from the inside. I could find no reason for this, but thought it a waste to wonder about the eccentricities of those with wealth. Instead, I placed my ear against the door and attempted to listen to anything inside. I thought I might hear the faint scurrying of mice. What I heard sent chills down my spine. It sounded as if someone was on the other side of the door, scraping something metal and sharp down the door.
I ran from it and returned to the parlor. Hector and William questioned me immediately, and I explained to them what I had heard. Both went to cellar, returning shortly after with confused expressions. Though they both admitted the door was odd, neither of them heard the noise. Hector called out to Trina and had her listen as well, but her report back was the same.
We decided to call it a day, and so now we rest. William will be the first to stay awake tonight. I hope that I find a moment's rest though my optimism of this notion is minimal.
Entry 5:
I am uncertain of the time when I awoke because I heard noises coming from upstairs. The floor was cold under my bare feet, and I felt the bumps form on my arms. The stairs creaked under my weight as I ascended them.