Return to the drawing room

Following their encounter with the manservant and their subsequent departure from the Kitchen, the five former bus passengers, Kurt, Manny, Roland, Hal and Richard find themselves back in the drawing room of the Black Chateau. They are seated on the white chaise longue, or in the black chairs, or leaning against the sideboard containing the decanter. The sky outside the darkened window continues to hurl wind and rain against the layerred glass. The picture of the house hangs still hangs on the wall, and the child's doll rests on on chaise longue.

There are faint muffled sounds that carry through from the Kitchen, but the heavy metal doors hide much of what might be happening back in that direction.There is silence amongst the men for a moment, but an anticipation. Who will be the first to put into words the thoughts that must be occuring to them all? It seems they have things to discuss.

Richard, leaning against the sideboard and having serious thoughts about pouring another brandy, scowls slightly before speaking.

"There's clearly something very odd going on here, and as it seems that the only person present other than ourselves is an imposing but mute manservant, we'll have to look elsewhere for answers. That does suppose that answers are what we all seek; I for one do not wish to stand idly by while we all collapse and hallucinate!"

"Gentlemen, we need to get to the bottom of this, so let's see what we can fathom, yes? Our bus crashed off the road due to a post and chain wrapping themselves around the rear axle. An accident? Could be, the fierce weather we're experiencing could have washed the post down from an embankment above the road, perhaps something neglected since the War. The other facts are thus: we're sheltering in a bizarre building built atop an old chemical weapons facility. The building is owned by someone who appreciates art and architecture, although it seems the owner is not present. I believe we have explored the majority of this floor, and have not found much. Did anyone find a map, or plans for this building? Or does anyone have anything to add to what I have said?"

Manny says,

"Maps and plans would be useful, yes, because I feel there is something in the very walls of this house. But we must think about the visions we have seen. it is too many now to be coincidence. Are they linked somehow? It cannot all be ascribed to chemicals and head-wounds."

Manny waits, in a way he still wants to be convinced of a rational explanation, but the time for that has passed. All he knows is that he doesn't want to wait around to be served the stew they saw the manservant cooking

Kurt doesn't really have any answers at this stage. He probably need to discuss further with the rest before coming up with any ideas. It occurs to him that it is possibly some sort of device in the house causing the fits? He doesn't think he can rely on the others really. Not that he doesn't trust them - he just doesn't know them well enough. A couple of them strike him as a bit hysterical so probably can't be counted on if the chips are down. He's thinking they need to explore more of the property and will suggest that, but is open to other suggestions as well.

Kurt's vision

Kurt quite probably felt hunger, it had been a long journey here, and some time since he had eaten. However, something caused him to be suspiscious about the cooking meat, and its source. Things had gotten desperate on the Eastern front, and there had been rumours of...unsavory..practice.

Sniffing the air, the meat smells like fatty pork, and is being boiled in some kind of weak stock, probably made from the bones of the animal. The aroma of this suffuses the kitchen from the open pot. It has that sweetness that is sometimes offputting in meat, but it does still smell like the flesh of an animal, rather than that of another, more upright prey animal.

The smell of meat still suffuses the room. However, that sweetness shifts, starts to develop a sharper note that irritates the senses. Was something else added to the pan? The butler barely moved.

It's not that.

Kurt can smell chlorine gas.

It stings the back of his throat. he coughs involuntarily. The movement shifts shifts viewpoint, and the officer's sword hanging on the wall in the dining room catches his eye. It holds his focus. Sitting there, polished and shining. A weapon, but also a symbol of authority.

He feels a weight pressing against your mind, the mind of somebody else. Somebody who has weilded that sword.

He sees through the eyes of another. Not here, and not now, not in the dining room, but somewhere else in this house, earlier in time.

As you turn the handle in the bathroom, you hear the hissing begin,
just as you thought.
You recognise the smell of chlorine gas instantly of course.
You smelled it often enough during the War.
It's all very Neat;
A perfect double-envelopment maneuver.
Perhaps turning the handle some more will open the pipes even wider, and you'll simply choke and die before you vomit your lungs out.
As long as that traitor Xavier vomits his lungs out first.
Then you'll have served your country.
Even if it has crushed you under its heel.

Kurt comes to his senses, kneeling on the floor of the dining room and coughing, close to the door to the kitchen. The Luger has fallen from hia grasp and lies near him.

Richard, momentarily halted by both embarrassment at the intrusion and the presence of the disturbing manservant, snaps to his senses when he sees Kurt collapse. Immediately he kneels down next to him and ensures Kurt's airways are clear, two fingers on his neck to check Kurt's pulse.

Whilst he does his best to attend to Kurt, Richard tries to study Kurt's expression. Is it pain? Could well be, choking is hardly pain free. Confusion maybe? That would be understandable, Richard is definitely confused by today's occurrences. Richard shakes his head in annoyance, he's never been that good at reading people.

"Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?"

Quite why the manservant wasn't shocked by the intrusion, let alone the collapsing, speaks volumes to Richard. He's not entirely sure what's written within those volumes, but he has a strong feeling that it's not good. Whilst 'unflappable' is surely a required characteristic of a manservant, 'callous disregard of the well-being of guests' is surely not.

Roland is angry at the manservant's impassiveness. He takes a step or two toward him looking him in the eyes and pointing back to Kurt. He should show some concern, some kind of emotion. Useless panic would be better than this cold observation.

"Hey! Can't you see this guy's in trouble? What the hell kind of country is this where you don't lift a finger to help a man choking? Damnit I want you to fetch the man of this house right now!"

He continues to stare the manservant in the face, hoping Richard and perhaps the others can help bring Kurt round.

Kurt sits up and tries to catch his breath.

He seems to have had vision involving the thoughts and experiences of a third party. He has considerable antipathy towards someone called Xavier. It might be worth finding out who he is/was and his connection with the house. Also further discussion with Kurt's commpanions about their "episodes" may prove fruitful.

Chlorine gas reminds Kurt of the war. Not good.

Roland gets a good look at the manservant's face as he stares at him. You don't get good at acting without being able to read and understand people's body language. Perhaps he's even been experimenting with some of the Stanislavski's methods - really getting inside the mind of a pirate, or fighter pilot to get the best portrayal on screen. He puts this to use now.

The manservant is nearly unmoving. There is a subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, but the rhythm is slow. Slower than normal.There is no sign of emotion on his face, his eyes hidden behind those dark glasses, uncessary in the dim light of the kitchen. The impression that projects is not one of calmness however. Rather it is as if the manservant has made himself impassive and uncaring. Hardly responding to the world around him. His movements are funtional, minimal - efficient, but devoid of the variety of character that makes up most people's bearing and gait. Roland for example has an upright, active stride. His new companion Manny tends to slump dejectedly, interspersed with moments of conviction.

The manservant has seemingly removed those traces of individual motive force derived from personality.He reminds Roland somewhat of the automatic movements of Brigitta Helm's 'Maschinenmensch' in Metropolis, or the actors playing the 'Anihilants' - Ming's robotic servants in the Flash Gordan serials.

The manservant continues to hold the meat cleaver in his right hand at his side. The knuckles of that hand are even paler than the rest of his skin due to the tension there. He is gripping the tool, the potential weapon, very tightly.

One thing is for certain. Roland's fairly sure that the manservant isn't acting.

"My God, what's wrong with you?"

Roland stands more at ease, continuing to regard the servant and glancing at the hand wrapped tight around the cleaver's hilt.

"Can you tell me, yes or no, is your master here?"

Slowly, deliberately, the manservant moves his head from side to side, to indicate the negative. Rolands ability to assess honesty suggests that the manservant might be lying about the absence of his master.

"Finally, an answer. Well, my friend and I will leave you to your work, and take our colleague through to another room."

Roland turns away from the servant towards the others, helping Richard help Kurt to his feet. "Come on guys, let's head back through." He looks them each in the eye, a serious look betraying his calm and reasonable tone.

Hal watches the exchange with a sense of unease. His gaze flits from the cleaver in the manservant’s hand to the discarded Lugar lying nearby and wonders if events are about to take a significant turn for the worse. He briefly considers his own Webley back in his bag in the other room but quickly dismisses the notion. Tempers are frayed and another firearm is unlikely to help.

He decides instead to intervene and gently places a hand on Roland’s arm.

“Steady on old chap,” he says in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. Then to the manservant:

“Can you assist us? We appear to be having a spot of trouble.”

Hal then goes on to quickly outline recent events in the hopes of eliciting some reaction.

The manservant watches Roland turn away from him, and head back to assist Kurt and Richard. He then turns his dark glasses towards Hal, his face just as impassive. He appears to be listening to Hal's account of the past hour or so, including the collapse of Manny in the gallery and himself in the library. The manservant was himself present for Kurt's collapse in the dining room.

When Hal has finished speaking, the manservant waits for a moment. Taller than Hal, the manservant looks down on him. He appears to be checking the front and sides of Hal's head, potentially for any cuts of bruises from the detailed collapse. Apparently finding no serious injury he turns away.

He walks to the counter. Opens a large, metal refrigerator doorwith one hand, and produces a jug of chilled water. This he hands to Hal. He makes a gesture with the now empty hand, pointing back to the dining room, then at the bubbling pot on the counter. He moves his hand several times to indicate twenty minutes. He seems to want you to await dinner.

Kurt coughs

"Kof...Kof...Gak -Thought I was back in the war for a minute. There's something about this house that's giving people hallucinations. Also anybody find any mention of someone called Xavier while we've been here?"

Nobody having picked up the luger, Richard carefully stoops to retrieve it, making sure his fingers are nowhere near the trigger, before handing it to Kurt, appearing to hold his breath as he does so.

Nodding towards the manservant, Richard says "Let's leave the gent to his preparations, hmm? Shall we find the dining room?"

As he ushers them to leave the kitchen, he whispers to the group

"This man, indeed this house, unnerves me greatly. There is something most
strange afoot, and we'll need to keep our wits about us if we are to get to
the bottom of this."

Kurt pockets the gun and says:

"Danke. I agree something is wrong with this house - did anybody else
who had a strange turn experience visions from their past?"

The Kitchen

The Dining Room

Hal's stride takes him first into the dining room. He is the first of the passangers to step foot inside this room.

It is again shaped like an 'L' with one open plan end opening out onto the library and gallery spaces. There is another window that reveals the view from the back of the house. It is similarly bleak to the view from the front.

Standing out against the bare, white walls is a large, highly polished, ebony dining table, surrounded by high backed chairs made of black lacqured metal. There are five of the chairs. two on each side, and one at the head of the table. They seem spaced out, as if the table should accomodate more settings than this.

On the wall above the table hangs an officer's sword from the Great War.



There are set of double doors on the opposite side of the table, again made of burnished metal, like the single door in the gallery, and the larger front doors of the house.

From behind the double doors, there can be heard, over the footsteps of the passengers, a dull hissing sound, accompanied by a rhythmical thud, a sound of something heavy and metal hitting something more yeilding.

Kurt says to the other "Do we want to see who or what's behind the door?" Entering the room behind Hal, Roland turns to Kurt.

"Absolutely, it's about time we found out what's going on here."

Kurt takes out his Luger, although he has the sneaking suspicion it won't be of much use here. Roland is pleased and frankly, a little excited at this turn of events. He doesn't show it though, maintaining a look of seriousness and capability as he strides up to the doors, turns to ask Kurt if he's ready, and attempts to open them (dramatically if possible).

Richard, momentarily distracted by the officer's sword on the wall, jumps slightly as Kurt pulls out the pistol. He's always been wary of firearms, respectful of how easy it is to cause unfathomable destruction with one. Even though he's handled one briefly in the past, it was an experience he'd hoped was never to be repeated. Seeing the luger now brings some of that back to his mind, and he unconsciously clenches and relaxes his hands, before shaking them as he snaps his focus back to the door, and the odd sound emanating from behind it.


He moves towards the door, eyes searching for the door hinges, noting which way they open. Once his hand grips the door kob, he looks up at Kurt, his eyebrows raised in the universal body language way of saying "Ready?". Richard waits for a nod from his armed companion, ready to open the door swiftly should the signal be given.

Kurt looks at Roland and Richard and say, "I'm ready if you are."

"Ok, here goes nothing."

Richard looks once more to Kurt and Roland, glancing also to Manny to see if there's any dissent, before opening the door in a swift, but (hopefully) smooth manner.

The rhythmic noise continues behind the door, as the five men take up positions on their side. Richard and Roland stand at either side of the double doors. Their hands tensed on the handles waiting to pull the doors open. Kurt stands directly opposite the doors, the barrel of his Luger pistol jutting forward at the doors, waiting for whatever lies beyond. Hal and Manny are stood behind Kurt, watching.

On a nod from Kurt, the door is pulled open.

It moves smoothly on well-oiled hinges. In the space beyond there are a a set of short steps. These steps lead down from the dining room, to the lower space of what appears to be a modern, high quality kitchen.

The manservant is stood behind a central, steel topped work counter. He holds in his right hand a large butcher's cleaver. He continues to raise and lower this instrument with mechanical tempo, cleaving through whatever sits on the chopping block.He is watching the door as it opens, but does not falter in his work for one moment.

His chopping completed, he turns and slides the contents of the block, some cut of meat, into the large boiling pot, sitting upon hissing gas jets. The kitchen smells, somewhat uncomfortably, of boiling meat.

The kitchen features a large, modern refrigerator and other conveniences. There is another window in this room, and a further steel door on the far side. A large rack of knives hangs on the wall behind the manservant, who regards the group, impassive behind his small dark glasses, and silent. He does not seem taken aback by their rapid entrance, nor by the pistol pointed in his direction.

He retains the cleaver in his right hand

The group is caught momentarily inactive by the scene of apparent normality behind the door of the Kitchen. The manservant appearing to be preparing a dinner for them.

The pale, hairless butler continues to stare impassively at them for a moment or two, as each member looks to the others to be first to say something about their intrusion. The drive that had brought them here seems to have, perhaps momentarily, faltered. Perhaps it is embarrassment, perhaps a deeper caution. When no-one speaks, the butler continues with his work.

Then they hear a coughing sound amidst their number. It is Kurt. The unexpected sound draws their attention to him. He looks pale and the luger in his hand wavers.

He coughs again, and there is a sudden blank and unseeing look in his eyes as his throat convulses and his lungs heave.

He drops to his knees, falling to the carpet with a poorly controlled thud. His back remains ram-rod straight however. The luger drops from his hand and slides to the floor.

There is something more complicated about the expression on his face. It carries something, something that can perhaps be uncovered, and understood.

The manservant remains in the kitchen unreacting. He seems to be watching the rest of the party intently.

The Library

Hal and Roland leave the gallery, heading back into the library. Intending to find out they can about the pictures in the gallery. The modernist metal chairs, seeming unsuited for comfortable sitting for any length of time, are brought into service to hold books of interest, and the two men begin their researches. They combine their respective fields of experience, in architecture and the libraries to good effect.

The stark white shelves of the library are well stocked in terms of books on architecture. Each of the books they take off the shelves features a bookplate in the inside cover featuring the words 'Sammlung Von Adhemar Grau: Architeckt'. Grau's library is also well served in terms of culture and other artistic works, leaning towards the cutting edge of modernist thinking and philosophy, and the more nihilistic types of literature. There are books here by Gropius and other members of the Bauhaus, Le Corbusier and Taut. There are texts in English, German and French.

It is Hal who first notices that despite the leaning towards the modern, there are no books here less than seven years old. Of course, it would be difficult to get the most up to date literature out here in these backwaters, but Hal knows that you could send to a publishers to have any book you needed delivered from the more civilised parts of Europe, even to these parts.

Searching through the books on architecture for the names of the four architects whose buildings are exhibited in the gallery reveals one fact that seems to united them, despite having different architectural philosophies behind them. It looks like each of the buildings was designed by an architect who later committed suicide.

Having found this fact for Eichler, Maher and Trevail, both men are searching for confirmation on Wittek. For a moment, this takes them out of each other's eyeline as they search the shelves for an appropriate volume.

Roland starts to think that the guy who lives here. this Grau, is clearly a strange one. The lack of new books, combined with the other factors about the house is starting to give him a feeling of something genuinely sinister going on, a very morbid side to everything here.

Why on earth hasn't their host shown himself? Impetuosity taking over, Roland is inclined to start looking for the owner, politeness be damned.

Hal's search takes him along the shelf, in the direction of the gold signet ring displayed on a diorite hand in a break between the books. Hal had ignored the ring up to now, but as his eyes move along the self below they feel drawn upward and he glances at the ring. It glints in the light, and holds his gaze.

Suddenly, Hal feels as if he is not looking at the ring with his own eyes, but with those of another. Another who wishes to place the ring back on their hand in its rightful place. Hal is rooted to the spot as the thoughts and sensations of another fill his mind.

You smell someting sharp; not foul exactly, but dangerous. Your eyes water, you start to choke.

Perhaps it's the gas; perhaps that was the scheme all along.

You can barely see; breathing is painful and difficult. But its the gas choking you, not that foul snake Emil. He's probably choking to death too; both of you caught in something bigger.

God it hurts. Hurts your lungs.

Can't see to read, can't see if Emil is still here. But he's choking, that's what matters.

Hal finds himself collapsed against the bookshelf, coughing and hacking loudly, his eyes watering. He is on his knees half supported with one hand on the shelf. He has dislodged a shelf worth of books, which are now scattered across the floor.

Roland's search takes him along the shelves in the oppositite direction to Hal's. He is looking through the selection of titles, hampered somewhat by only being able to properly read the ones in english.

His fingertips brush against a slim folio volume. He's not sure that this one will help, but it's worth a look. He pulls it out from the shelf. He starts to pick through it. It's not about architecture at all. It's a play of some sort. Something European no doubt - it seems to be about a noble court in some decaying city on the shores of a massive lake. It might occur to Roland that if it was an obscure play nobody in Hollywood had heard of, that it might make a good basis for a screenplay.

Roland is about to turn the volume over to check the title when he hears a loud crash, followed by heavy coughing. His eyes flick up from the book to where Hal had been standing.

Hal has collapsed bodily against the bookshelf, coughing and hacking loudly, his eyes watering. He is on his knees half supported with one hand on the shelf. He has dislodged a shelf worth of books, which are now scattered across the floor.

Roland thinks this looks like what happened to Manny earlier, or maybe this guy has a condition. He absentmindedly slips the play into his jacket, and hurries over to Hal, doing what he can to help.

For Hal it is too soon to process the vision. Hal thinks he's being poisoned. The brandy perhaps? Or something more targeted? Poison darts, gas vented from the ceiling? Hal naturally assumes people will come to his aid. It's the British thing to do.

Upon hearing the coughing and the crash, Richard immediately rises and runs into the library, grave concern almost completely overshadowing the slight hint of fear in his eyes. On hearing the crashing noise and the coughing Kurt head towards it. Manny follows the others at the crashing sound

Richard, Kurt and Manny enter the Library, pushing themselves out of their chairs in the drawing room in response to the crash. In contrast to the image of studious research that had presented itself as the three walked through the library to the drawing room earlier, the scene that greets them is one of disarray.

A whole shelf of books has been dislodged and is now scattered across the floor, the shelf hanging at an angle off its brackets. Amidst the heap of books, Hal is slumped, with a dazed expression on his face that is slowly regaining clarity. It looks like the man had fallen against the bookshelf and sent it flying.

The sculptured hand that had sat on the shelf with the books is now lying mixed in with the pile of architecture books, several falling open to display blueprints, or architectural projections of various buildings.

Roland is kneeling next to Hal. It must have been his quick footsteps as he moved to help that the others heard from the gallery. He looks as if he is doing what he can to help Hal.

"Say, you with me buddy?" Roland looks for signs of awareness on Hal's face. "Someone get this guy some brandy or something"

Kurt asks Roland and Hal:

"What happened?"

Richard stops briefly to survey the devastation, before nipping back to grab a glass of brandy for Hal, only half-heartedly trying not to spill any as he hurries over to the collapsed man.

"Here, take some deep, controlled breaths first, then take a drink. What
the hell happened?"

Richard finds it very hard to believe that two people collapsing in coughing fits is a co-incidence, either something sinister is afoot in this house, or these two 'victims' are linked somehow, likely some sort of scam, or act of misdirection maybe? Richard is certainly worried that the owner of the house might be a little upset that we've wrecked his library, and wonders if they can swiftly replace the books and items onto the shelves. Looking at the piles of books, restoring the original order of the library will be rather difficult.

Richard is surprised no one came when Manny collapsed half an hour ago, but surely someone must have heard the crash of all those books! He listens for any sounds outside of the room. There is little other noise to be heard in the house in between the conversation in the library. You can hear the wind and rain buffeting against the windows, muffled by the glazing. There do appear to be some faint sounds of movement, coming from the dining room, or perhaps beyond it. Other than that, the house seems inertly unresponsible to the collapse of either of the two men.

Hal is obviously badly shaken, but does his best to keep his upper lip stiff and understand what has just happened. After draining the brandy glass in a single gulp he struggles to his feet.

“I think I’m fine now. For a moment I felt lightheaded and had what I can only describe as a hallucinogenic episode. It could only be the gas seeping in to the house, or perhaps a narcotic introduced into my system by some other means.”

Hal pauses for a moment before glancing down at the empty brandy glass in his hand.

“Two men suffering similar symptoms within minutes of each other. I suggest we find a common link quickly. I think perhaps it may soon be time to put politeness to one side and begin a search for our absent host.”

Roland stands as Hal stands up. A look of frustration passes over his face as Hal speaks. "I agree. It's time we found our host, damn the mess. Let's go."

Richard nods "Agreed, we have waited long enough, and two troubling events have so far gone unchecked by our host."

Now that something strange has also happened to Hal, Manny feels more sure of himself again.
"Was there a voice friend?" he asks Hal. "An artist in love with the woman in the painting?"

“No,” says Hal grimly. “There was a murder.”

"Who was murdered? The woman? Was Karin murdered?"

“It felt like I was being murdered, but… I was someone else, I don’t know who, but I man I think. My thoughts were of malice and vengeance, not what I would associate with a woman.”

Hal straightens and marshals his thoughts.

“But it’s irrelevant, it was a hallucination, nothing more. Now let’s find our host and find out what cruel joke he’s playing on us.”

With that Hal strides of towards the part of the house the butler retreated to.

Manny and the Painting

Kurt and Richard have remained close enough to Manny so that they see as he slips into a strange trance state as he touches the painting of the woman in the yellow dress. His expression is confused, and his eyes unfocused. He starts to speak in a low, quiet voice, as if recounting a memory from long ago. His words are occasionally indistinct, but it is clear that they come from a powerful source. The manner of speach is odd, unlike Manny's normal delivery, words run together, or have strange breaks in the middle of pronouncing them. This is what Manny says.

"My greatest work was the portrait of the mayor. It was a commission, at long last, but they gave it to me to ruin me. So that I would become respectable, a mere painter rather than an artist, a copier not a creator. They wanted to take me into the establishment and churn me out, as it had churned out them. So i took their commission and gave them truth."

"There are a million colours between white and black without ever leaving grey. They said that the painting was just lines, drab lines of grey and black but of course they could not see. I gave the mayor his portrait as he was - an unimportant man , from an unimportant city. He wanted to be bold, in proud colours, like Caesar come again or some civic saint, but the man was nothing.

"He was grey man, part of the architecture, from a grey city, and was too pompous to see that there was something grand and beautiful in obscurity. I made him an archetype but he only wanted to be a cliche."

"Of course he didn't like it. The city refused to pay for it, and it was a long time before I received another commission again."

Seemingly having said his piece, Manny's eyes refocus and he stops speaking. There is a sudden silence as the other two realise how intently they have been listening. This silence is only broken by the sounds of Roland and Hal in conversation on the other side of the gallery.

Hal and Roland are talking at one end of the gallery. They are too far away to make out what the lion-tamer is saying in a hushed voice as he stares at the painting of the woman in the yellow dress, his back to the two men. But he seems to be saying a lot, his jawline moving almost constantly for a minute or two.

If they look closely, they are also able to make out that Richard and Kurt are paying close attention to whatever it is the man is saying. Looking down at the other group Roland turns to Hal and says quietly: "Uh oh. Looks like our lion tamer friend is having another episode." He calls down the gallery

"Hey fellas. Everthing ok over there?"

“An interest in books?” Hal is about to launch into a convoluted monologue regarding his exploits as an accomplished author but is cut off when Roland calls over to the rest of the group. Hal frowns, annoyed and deflated, but he decides to let it pass.

“You know,’” says Hal quietly. “I’m beginning to think our lion tamer friend may be mad. OF course I’m no expert, but I’m wondering if there’s perhaps some information regarding those prints in our host’s library. Perhaps if we can uncover a mundane origin for them…”

Hal looks at Roland expectantly. Keen to distance himself from the clearly mad lion tamer and lose himself in something as routine and everyday as browsing a library, but not comfortable enough with his surroundings to wander off alone.


Richard will stay by Manny until a few minutes after his mumblings to make sure he's ok. After about ten minutes, he'll calmly suggest to Manny that we go to the little study, where we can sit down and have a brandy. If Manny agrees, then that's where they'll go to relax a little and ease the nerves.


During this time, and after a little small talk:

"So, Manny, what exactly happened in the gallery? You seemed as if caught in a trance by that painting of the woman, are you aware of what you were doing?"

Kurt follows Richard and Manny to the drawing room and avaisl himself of another brandy. He is interested in hearing Manny's account of his "episode".

Manny has that terrible sinking feeling that he has had before. He knows the others think him mad, catching his blood-stained reflection in the window glass only confirms his suspicions that he looks like a lunatic. Manny isn't sure he would believe himself right now. He mutters about something otherworldly going on.

A grey man, part of the architecture, from a grey city

My greatest work was the portrait of the mayor. It was a commission, at long last, but they gave it to me to ruin me. So that I would become respectable, a mere painter rather than an artist, a copier not a creator. Thay wanted to take me into the establishment and churn me out, as it had churned out them. So i took their commission and gave them truth.

There are a million colours between white and black without ever leaving grey. Thay said that the painting was just lines, drab lines of grey and black but of course they could not see. I gave the mayor his portrait as he was - an unimportant man , from an unimportant city. He wanted to be bold, in proud colours, like Caesar come again or some civic saint, but the man was nothing. He was grey man, part of the architecture, from a grey city, and was too pompous to see that there was something grand and beautiful in obscurity. I made him an archetype but he only wanted to be a cliche.

Of course he didn't like it. The city refused to pay for it, and it was a long time before I received another commission again