___Lumen + Scawire___
The butler shows an obvious distaste at your weary and shot-up appearance as you close the distance to the doorway.
He summons something with a gesture and as you reach the doorway, a decent sized medical drone wheels into view in the large and grandiose hallway.
The Butler speaks to you in a very heavily accented bout of English, though it's obvious English is not his primary language.
Bonjour Monsieurs, Messieur Smith wishes to speak wiss you upstairs. Please, Let se dronn inspect your wunds first.
As you step into the threshold of the hallway, the Butler takes your bags and you take a second to absorb the grandieur of the entrance hallway.
A huge, ornate wooden stair way provides the focus of the room, splitting left and right into the respective wings of the household.
The walls are plushy lined with somekind of hardwood panelling and adorned with classical paintings at regular intervals.
An expensive looking chaise longue stands next to the reception room directly to your right, which the medical drone does his best to encourage Mantis and Dunk into.
The butler re-appears from a small room below the left hand side of the staircase empty handed, obviously storing your kit there as you gawp at the high ceilings, expensive pictures and free standing statues.
Please, monsieur "knives", if you arr not 'urt, take se data to Monsieur Smith. Ee awaits in se west wing. Upstairs, on se left. first rum on your right. I assure you your friends will be taken care of in your absence.
Dunk waves his hands in surrender at the insistent drone;
You go on mate, I'll be fine here while this thing patches me up. Me and Mantis will be fine.
___Scawire___
At the drone's insistence, you head into the reception room as the butler sends Knives upstairs to deal with the Johnson.
Another high ceiling makes the relatively small room appear huge. It is plushy decorated in a pale blue colour, accented with creams throughout. A functional yet expensive wooden furniture suite adorns the room.
Several benches, some slightly more comfortable upholstered chairs and a drinks service cabinet line the interior three walls. The grey daylight filters through a huge bay window onto a smallish plinth around what appears to be a hastily improvised medical area. Various medkits stand open on a few metal stands that contrast with the largely traditional feel of the room, bottles of chemicals and packs of gauze stand on the one to the right as some form of dressing station. Your extraction team obviously called ahead.
The butler pokes his head in; Gentlemen, a drink for se wounded? Vot would you like?
Ushering dunk over to the plinth, the drone's speaker warbles commands at you before the butler changes its language settings to English.
Please undress. I need to assess your wounds.
___Lumen___
Leaving the lads for the first time since london made you twitchy, but you'd got this far and the extraction team could have gunned you down if they had wished.
At least you still had your fineblades if the shit hit the fan.
Each step upwards on the thick carpet made you feel more and more out of place. It was like some Edwardian palace or some shit you read in an ebook back in school. It literally was unreal how rich this guy you were dealing with was.
Reaching the top of the large stairway brings you onto a wide hallway making up the large west wing. About 5 rooms stretched away on each side of the panelled hallway, with a comfy looking seating area viewing the gardens through the west wing window at the end of the hallway.
The smell of food and cigar smoke beckons you to the slightly ajar doorway the butler told you was the drawing room.