Dolce

'Your last dinner was a night to remember...' Archebold couldn't hide the smile on his face as he nodded in agreement. Remi had no idea how right he was, for all the wrong reasons. It was that night that Archebold had essentially made cannibals of the people of Northhaven, preparing and serving remains of victims from a nightly purge by his staff. How he missed the extra hands, though he appreciated the sense of independence that came with his time here. Blacks of his eyes widened as Remi had stepped out to make his exiting prep before Archebold would turn to lead him out. The path to the manor which was in the process of being renovated wouldn't take very long surprisingly. The manor itself, from the outside, appeared in ruin. Stained glass windows were dark and dim with an absence of life. The large oak doors rotted and in need of change, as the stone walls appeared to barely hold together. The inside was another matter. While dust still strewn from here to there, the interior of the manor held a gothic, foreboding atmosphere. Stone gargoyles lurched over the long dark halls, as an oil reservoir-like contraption carried the flames to light the torches above and along the walls. There was a lot of dull brass, gold, and crystal yet to be polished. Paintings weathered, some torn, but little to diminish the beauty they possessed. Every step taken appeared to echo throughout the manor as Archebold led the alchemist toward large dining room where a table stretched out nearly the length of the room with only two chairs appearing visible on either end. "I discovered this cultural tomb not long after passing through the portal. Imagine my surprise when entering this ruined shell that it housed such beauty. All of this culture preserved, as if waiting for me to discover it. There is still work that needs to be done, but I trust you share the same affinity for art and beauty as I do?" Archebold asked, his tone always so smooth and calculated as if his words were pre-loaded into a memory bank. He turned back briefly and smiled and Remi as he led him through the rear of the dining room into the kitchen which seemed more well let than any other room in the manor. Dried meat hung from the ceiling in natural casings, smoked and curing. Various meats of various colors. The darker more savory sausages to the brighter more spicy. "One thing this place does not lack, is diversity in its resources." Archebold mused as he removed his jacket, resting it gently aside on a nearby stool as he rolled his sleeves 3/4 of the way up and tied an ivory apron which held the looks of one that had been in use with stains of all sorts on it. "Please, sit. There will be much to taste, much to discuss." The ascended calmly gestured to the stool along the island counter as he smiled a dimpled smile before turning to work the fire of the wood-burning stove. The fire prepped, Archebold turned and reached up, taking down one of the cured sausages and resting in on the counter before making several paper thin slices with careful precision. "It's funny how some things we never seem to forget. I've not eaten a meal in decades yet every muscle in my body moves effortlessly, as if guided by pure instinct." He'd flip the knife in his hand after smacking the base onto the counter, rather playfully before holding the sliced meat before Remi's lips. "A taste if you will, I've not yet been able to entertain. So a fresh perspective would be greatly appreciated." There was a subtle sultriness to his voice as he smiled at Remi, awaiting him to taste the sausage brought to his lips. Had he chosen to taste, it would find it sweeter than it appeared. The smokey flavor of the wood used offered notes of apple, with a finishing note of the buttery, salty finish that accompanies most sausages. archebold Death is not a defeat. It is a cure.