Your eyes quickly scan over the array of trophies dismissing them as you glance over them: Too big, not big enough, too valuable, not valuable enough, cheese sandwich...hello...you look at the trophy with a tiny man riding atop a slightly less tiny horse, rear up dramatically. It looks small enough for be able to carry out of there, but large enough to make it worth the bother, valuable enough to get some money at the pawn shop or to sell at a flea market without being so valuable that someone might actually believe a schlub like you could have come by it honestly. Perfect. You wrap your hands around one of the circular brass tubes supporting the rest of it and pull it off the shelf.
"Ahem." you hear a voice behind you, causing you to make a sound that sounds like a combination of a gasp and a hiccup. You reflexively pull the trophy closer to you in shock. You turn around to see a tall thin man dressed in a rather fancy suit, standing stiffly with his hands behind his back. He appears to be some sort of butler, but you're not sure how you didn't hear him enter. You stare awkwardly at him for a moment.
"I-I was jus-" you stammer.
"The mistress is expecting you." he says dryly. You stare at him confusedly, wondering if he thinks you're someone else. Before you can think to say anything he turns around "Follow me, sir." he says and walks out of the room. You put the trophy back on the shelf, or at least you try to. You find that your fingers won't let go of it. It's not that it feels sticky or anything, it's just that your fingers simply won't respond. You're beginning to panic when the butler returns "Sir...I suggest you follow me." he says pointedly looking at the trophy in your hand. You're still in shock at the oddness of the situation, but you take his meaning.
"Ub...uh...of course." you stammer and follow, carrying the trophy with you. You follow him past the foyer and up the stairs to the second floor of the mansion. You try to think of something to say to explain yourself but decide against it, nothing you can think of doesn't sound lame. He finally leads you to a room at the end of the hall, which he opens for you.
"You're guest, madam." he says and stands aside. You look in and see a woman sitting at a rather ornate desk in a room full of bookshelves. You step inside and the door closes firmly behind you. The woman looks up at you, pulling her eyeglasses down over her nose to look over at you from her book. She sighs and offers a rather condescending smile.
"Well, looks like someone's been messing around where he shouldn't be." she says as she looks at the trophy stuck to your hand "Hmmm...equestrian, nice choice." she says and stands up. She's dressed simply, her hair tied up in a loose bun, she wears a loose, fitting dress - white with small floral patters of maroon and purple. As she approaches you can see that she's somewhat petite, with a slime build and standing almost a head shorter then you. Still she carries herself with a confident air that belies her small frame. She reaches out a delicate looking hand and grabs your wrist, looking over the hand wrapped around the trophy.
"Please help me." you say to her. She stares at you again lowering her eyeglasses at you as though expecting more from you. "Okay, I'm sorry I was trying to take your trophy. Now please, just help me let go of the darn thing." you say.
"My trophy? Hmmm...no...no this is definitely your trophy." she says and squeezes your wrist. You feel a jolt, like the static electricity shock you get from touching a door knob in some houses, only this seems to come from her entire hand. You look back at her and see her grinning with a wicked grin.