<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/18/Eldersign34.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> All of the PCs, Frank Walker, Dominic</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Dinner Is Served</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/><br/>Frank was a gracious host, facilitating easy conversation among the mixed lot of guests with a gift for gab that was almost, but not quite, a reasonable substitute for alcohol. He raised his glass of sparkling water to his sister's toast. "Thank you, MaryAnne, and let me say that it is truly my pleasure to see so many dear friends under one roof. I am so happy that all of you were able to come tonight. And I trust that the fare will be acceptable -- far more than my own poor attempts. I believe that I still owe that lamb an apology," he said with a nod toward Allister.<br/><br/>As the meal progressed Dominic brought in each course with mechanical precision, drawing little attention to himself. Those who took special notice, and who happened to be keen observers of such things, might note that his expression was perhaps a bit more grim than necessary, as if he harbored secret troubles of his own. But whatever plagued the dark-haired silent man it did not seem to interfere with his ability to clear dirty plates promptly and keep beverage glasses full.<br/><br/>The table engaged in parallel conversations, as one does at such occasions, and those near Frank were able to hear him tell an amusing anecdote of an encounter he had recently with a drunken vagrant down near the Riverfront district. Frank had ended up taking the fellow to dinner, buying him a jacket to suit the restaurant's dress code. As it happened the fellow was a published poet who had fallen on hard times. "And he gave me some of his works," Frank said, "on crumpled sheets of paper he was using to line his shoes! Can you imagine? Oh, I bought him a pair of shoes as well." Sadly for those who spent time paying close attention to Frank's story, this interesting tale will prove to be naught but a red herring in the days to come, though perhaps some small solace could be taken in the evidence of a good man's inclination toward charity.<br/><br/>For the sake of a shared imaginative space let us say that Frank sat at the head of his table, with his sister MaryAnne at his right hand. Next to her sat Harrison, and then Maggie. At Frank's left hand sat Marcus, perhaps positioned such that the meddlesome Mr. Walker could more easily observe his interplay with MaryAnne across the table. At Marcus' left sat Maxine, followed by Jonathan. Opposite Frank, at the far end of the long table, sat Allister.<br/><br/>The Cornish game hens were served, one per customer accompanied by broiled potatoes, buttered peas, and a jellied tomato and pimento salad garnished with olives which glistened somewhat disturbingly under the muted incandescent lights. The sound of the wind in the empty streets outside was audible within the conversational pauses, and though no storm had been predicted for the evening it served as a reminder that forecasters had been known to be fallible in the past.<br/><br/><br/>