<div class="floatleft">(http://imgur.com/3hgsLSS.jpg)</div><br/>To his rising dismay, Malcyn soon found that the musketeer apparently had expected some unwanted curiosity and continued his tale in hushed tones. Not to be so easily outplayed, the youth simply hopped his chair a little closer, briefly tearing his gaze from the speaker to send an apologetic smile to the ladies in his company. Settling in just in time to catch Imriel's words he leaned forward, so drawn into the story that the scream, when it came, almost seemed felt part of the musketeer's tale.<br/><br/>His eyes widened when the musketeer vaulted to his feet, but when Imriel started to the door the young man moved as well - in the opposite direction. "Keep my stew warm!" he shouted to a servant as he rushed up the stairs, past shocked patrons and servants alike. Malcyn burst into his room, picking up his rapier from where it rested against the wall and snatching his satchel from the bed on the go. Unwilling to risk being slowed down in the busy common room, he headed straight for the window, threw it open and climbed on the window sill, looking down.<br/><br/>"Oh no!" he whispered, spotting the body sprawled on the ground below. Holding himself steady on the window frame, he regained his composure and hurriedly lowered himself down, trying to reach the still form as fast as he could.<br/><br/>Perhaps he wasn't too late.