Arrival (OTA)
Steerpike was not usually one to be caught off guard by anything, for he was the type to cover every possible angle of everything that was likely to happen. Systematic, thorough, and clever far beyond his class, he was nonetheless at a loss to explain how he found himself where he was.
He was quite certain he had fallen asleep in his bed last night, but that was most certainly not where he found himself now. In fact, if his eyes were not deceiving him, he was not in Gormenghast at all. Nor was he in the cottages of the Bright Carvers, which lined the walls and perimeter of that grand and forbidding kingdom. In fact, the landscape that surrounded him was unlike anything he had ever seen, and he had no possible explanation for it.
Although this confusion was causing him a great deal of inner turmoil, only those who knew him well (better than anyone truly knew him) would notice the excessive stiffness in his posture, or the clenching of his jaw; the only two outward signs of his distress.
After a moment the slight tension eased. There was nothing for it but to discover where he was and to go from there.
With a slight nod of his head at his decision, he strode forward. He was dressed in a conservatively cut black coat and trousers, his reddish brown hair pulled severely back and tied with a black ribbon.
"Hello?" he called, his cultured voice echoing off the empty cabins. "Is anyone here?"