1st Mystery Ball CLOSED Jan/03

Baron Lienhart had gotten tired of waiting for anyone to answer him. Gradually he had drifted away from the silent Lady Sarinja and continued meandering around the garden.

He drifted some ways away, admiring the statuary and sculpted brush, as well as the stately fruit trees and prim rows of vegetables. Further and further away from the main house he went, until the sounds of the ball were no longer audible.

Finding an inviting, intricately carved stone bench with lions rearing on the backrest, Baron Lien decided to sit down for a spell.

Three hours later, he awoke with a start as an owl pecked him, apparently mistaking his fur tunic for an oversized rodent dinner.

The baron realized he had perhaps missed something important, so he quickly started walking back towards the main house, getting a nasty run in his tights when he collided with a low bush, noticing that the vaulted windows of the ball room were darkened.

He let himself in, silently, and saw a tidy, very empty ballroom.

Drats. This had happened to him last year at Sir Mirom's birthday bash.

Fortunately, it was a simple matter to unlock the main doors and exit the building. He hoped his movements had not awoken his hostess.

Two hours later, finally at his own doorstep, he noticed a missive nailed to his oak door.

"Another ball," he mused to himself. "And so soon after the last one. Her Fuzziness certainly has a taste for frolic... or murder."

He entered his lodgings, took off tights and tunic, and promptly collapsed into his bed.


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