Thornton Manor could be seen from afar.
The vast manor house sat within a vaster park of ancient oak and yew trees, surrounded by a stout grey wall. The manor itself was a grotesque collection of towers, spires, halls, columns and arches. Every generation had attempted to mark their passage by constructing a new wing to their ansestoral hall in their own style and the style of their time. They had each built with total disregard for the over all appearence of the building; each new addition conpeted and clashed with the last.
The driver rode on, apparently indifferent to my company.
We passed, without resistance, though the impossing, medieval gate house.
A monsterous rage had begun to stir in my chest.
The horses slowed to a trot as we passed through the dense shade of the park, then halted outside the grand enterance to the manor. The entrance, unlike the hall joining it, was built in the classical style. A flight of marble steps lead to a huge rectangular door which was flanked by epic columns.
'Thornton! I roared, as I lept from the carriage. 'Thorton! show your self!'
I continued shouting until the doors flew open and a stout man in an overly elaberate wig emerged. I recall, even now, how his round face was red with indigration.
'Thornton...' I growled, for it was he.
He ignored me, and focused on his driver.
'You oaf!' Thornton yelled that the man.'Why have you brought this madman to my house? How could you be so...'
'He had no choice,' I told Thornton as I strode toward him.
'Who the hel are you?' Thorton snapped.
'You do not know me?' asked I.
'Indeed I do not.'
'I am not suprised,'I said, then drew my sword and ran him through.
He died quickly.
In the distance, I heard I heard Jacques laugh.
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