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Upon entering this old town, you are greeted by a sign that reads “Welcome to Old Ashton!”. It was the beginning of spring and the town was slowly starting to come alive again, preparing for the late summer and early fall tourism rush. The people of this town took pride in their legends and other paranormal stories, that they kept this place looking like it did around the time of the early 15th century. While allowing it to be up to date with the current technology of today, all for the tourists that would come and go.

One of the popular places to eat and sleep at was The Cockatrice and The Carpenter Pub. Like most inns and taverns, it would be one of the hot spots to hear about the local legends and paranormal activity. One of the places that would exist the lips of the villagers of the town would be Highburn Citadel, rumored to be a place where all kinds of things could and will happen to anyone that happened to step foot onto its property. Most tourists would settle at the property lines and take pictures of the massive castle, with the occasional brave soul that would become a lost soul.

Highburn Citadel was rumored to be older than Old Ashton itself, along with different stories of who or what live within those walls. It sits on the far edge of town, up on a large hill that over looks the town.

He remembers the days of Old Ashton before this place became a touring sight. He was sweet on a lady here and really grew attached to this town, albeit, he had to remain in the shadows due to his appearance. As time moved on, though, so did he. The skeleton gentleman stands here now, staring at the same town he once knew. Although the buildings didn't change, a lot has altered. Now it's a playground for tourists and a money-maker for businessmen. He'd want to look on with disgust, but at the same time - the town still stands here and it hasn't been forgotten. He cannot help but feel grateful for those who kept Ashton alive.

With his black gloves on, his skeletal hands are hidden from sight. Plain cotton material that serves as a mask covers his entire skull. He can see the world out, but no one can see the skeleton within. There are no eye holes nor fancy expression on the head mask. Simple, emotionless. Replacing his top hat upon his crown, he takes his trustworthy cane and heads down the road towards Old Ashton to revisit fond memories.

As one of the security men stops M to question his mask, the skeleton gentleman simply replies with, "It's a skin condition." The security person sheepishly apologizes and allows him to continue on his way. Although, other security guards are keeping their eye on the strange figure, M takes no mind to it. He's not here to cause trouble.

He comes across a building with a sign that reads "The Carpenter Pub." M is not sure if this place is new or he just doesn't remember it. Curiosity strikes him and he enters.

Hearing the bell jingle upon Mister M, one of the waitresses went up to him, ‘’Evening Sir, Welcome to the The Cockatrice and The Carpenter Pub.’’ As she spoke she took in the newcomer’s appearance. ‘’So I’m assuming this would be your first time here? At least you’ve picked a slow night, it gets a bit chaotic in here when we are in season. Oh feel free to flag me down if you need anything.’’

The woman stood only at 5’0”, wearing the traditional bar wench outfit, calling attention to her womanly figure. Her long dark brown hair was pulled up into ponytail with a simple flower crown sitting on top.

‘’So on that note did you want me to get anything for you? Right now I mean.’’ She asked awkwardly while looking up at him. ''Food.....drink?''

As soon as he steps in, someone already comes for assistance. My, it's either he has met one dedicated worker or the community here is just generally friendly. Either or, this young damsel's friendly demeanor makes M feel welcome, indeed. "Oh, no thank you, dear," he says to her politely. "I've only come here to relax for a while if you don't mind."

Mister M removes his top hat and brings it to his chest, bowing slightly to her respectfully. "I apologize for the mask. I'm sure it looks rather outré. I do appreciate your fine service, miss. If I do need anything, I'll be sure to seek you out." He nods to her and was about to proceed to find himself a place to sit until he stops himself and looks back at the woman. "Might I have a name?"

The woman watched Mister M as he walked by, assuming he belonged to her brother’s eccentric collection of friends. ‘’Most call me Lady- I mean Sapphire, just Sapphire.’’ She answered back, as she was about to walk away. ‘’If you are looking for Tristram, he should show up soon. He usually does after his usual night of carousing.’’ Her voice showed a slight annoyance to her voice when she mentioned her brother’s name.

It's not the name that catches M's interest, but that the woman has bothered mentioning his name. Her tone of voice matches with the wave of emotions the skeleton man senses. He wonders if she has distaste for this Tristram...or for himself.

"Miss Sapphire," M echoes in a smooth tone; quite pleasant to say. "Thank you kindly. I shall find myself a seat then." Mister M does exactly that and situates himself on an empty table in the far corner - mostly to avoid standing out as much. If he's going to revisit this old town, he might as well stick around for this Tristram, whomever he may be. Who knows? Perhaps something interesting will happen. Perhaps not. For now, M pulls out a book and reads silently to himself.