Indeed it was later than they thought, and while San German was adamant on showing off his hunting trophies, a servant boy dressed in purple came to fetch them in the hall.

Artman almost sighed in relief, finally given a spare moment to collect his thoughts from the wild tumble they'd just taken, with San German still prattling on about various bits of trivia from obscure parts of the world that ranged from paradise to some bizarre pagan hell in description.

Maven was just glad it distracted the pudgy man from trying to make some advanced towards her, for all his trinkets, some things never really change.

The small party walked a hallway of long marble tiles and collums, paint gold plaster with stone flowers breaking up the straight platonic lines. Paintings of stern figures in various uniforms of station, general, nobleman, philosopher. Great open windows let them see the sky pouring in, the afternoon sun fading off in a corner as marked by the sundial in the little garden outside. scant more than a few small bushes and a bird bath besides.

San German turned on his heel with a shriek, the sound disturbing the calm view of the little garden outside. He threw open a set of white doors and walked in.

Artman and Maven followed at a few steps' distance, entering the dining hall after San German. The wallpapered something green with darker floral patterns, mahogany trim giving a warm slightly rosy off tint as a highlight. Brass lamps in the shape of seahorses hung on the walls, orbs of light posed on their little snouts, while on the table sat several smaller candelabrums cast to look like opening flowers, each sporting at least three small flames atop pillars of peach colored wax.

Although a fresh eye might mistake them for some very long fingers.

San German took his seat at the table's head and motioned for his guest to sit on his left. Odd, but they weren't on any close terms yet, so it made some amount of sense in the etiquette. This also put their backs to the door and didn't obstruct Geman's view of the kitchen door, which just so happened, to be a little to the right of where he was sitting.

When everyone had seated, San German gave a clap, and the kitchen's serving door flew open as the servants, a mix of maids and gentlemen, in their uniforms of green and mauve moved to serve the seated guest and host.

"Ah, Chicken again, good sir? I swear the chef cooks like a worried housewife, trying to thin me out. Very well. But I'll not be scolded for sneaking a bit of venison from the pantry tonight. I'll be much to hungry to sleep by then." San German laughed to himself at his own joke and waved off the servant, trying to give him a napkin. Artman looked down at what he'd been served and sighed with a little relief.

It was a small chicken, sliced into quarters, and smelling of black pepper and sage. there was also a baked onion beside it and a small garnish of fruit. Nothing outrageous, yet.

"A, uh, fine meal you've prepared for us." Artman spoke up, San German huffed in offense.

"Hardly. I wanted that blasted chef to serve a flank of roast beef for tonight. I would've welcomed you with a feast." He then near swallowed the glass of wine next to him on the table and turned back to his plate.

"Of course, If I could cook for myself, I wouldn't be able to leave the kitchen!" San German bawled with laughter as the image of him being any fatter flashed in the listening Maven's mind and left with a shudder, While Artman gave a polite chuckle.

"But fret not. I have standing orders for such occasions as a lean meal. Oh, yes, well be dining on some fine pudding after this. I have a near ancient recipe for rose pudding that is simply divine." he grimaced at half eaten chicken before him on the plate, pushing it away with slight disdain. "And frankly, it would make a better meal than this." he muttered aloud.

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Artman shifted a moment, parsing his words before they'd even left his mouth.

"Uh, Mister San German."

"Yes,"

"You mention you wanted to explain something about my commission. Was there something you had in mind for the Wooden Man? " Artman asked tentatively. San German stopped a moment, still eating the chicken he'd just rejected, wiped his face and let the servant take the plate from him while the large man leaned back in his chair.

"Well, seeing as we'll be waiting for that rose pudding a moment, I should explain." He leaned in towards Artman. A quick purple sleeve took the plate from under him.

"You see Sir Wizard, I wasn't there personably to view your creation in person, but I've got it on good authority that it's a most wonderful creation, And I find it's description most exhilarating." He paused, taking a breath and to lick his lips.

"I would have something similar, though, I must admit. I would very much like, more than one Wooden Man for my purposes."

"What kind of purpose?" Artman asked. San German snickered to himself.

"Well, I must profess a certain love of the unusual, but I have an even greater love of the dances." He fiddled with his napkin a little. "I know you are quite proud of your Wooden Man. but I must ask that it's more, uh, illusory mechanics be altered in some regards."

Artman took in a breath."Well, that shouldn't be a problem. I can have a second model up in no time, and I can make its illusion match the appearance of any you'd like-"

San German held his hand up to stop Artman before speaking, "Sir Wizard, you are a clever man, by far the best I've seen, and I have borne witness to some of the greatest acts of illusion and confusion known to man and magic. However, what has caught my fancy is the fact that you, above all of them, breathe life into the stillness of wood. That is special. And while many have come close, I'm sure none ever went as far as you have with the Wooden Man."

San German turned his head towards the kitchen door as servants appeared with silvered plates with heaping mounds of the sweet rose scented dish.

"Ah, Dinner. at last." San German muttered. Turning back to Artman, he smiled. The young wizard couldn't help but stare at the man's crooked yellow teeth and feel disgusted. San German put a spoon into the steaming plate of pudding before him and raised it up to his lips."So, what did you have in mind for my next model?" Artman asked. the reply was immediate.

"A Minotaur, to stalk amongst the gardens. I think it will make a good boner to pull on my guests."

Artman gave a stare of mixed emotions. "You're asking me to turn this monumental feat which I spent so much into crafting, into a party favor to chase guests around during some garden banquet." the horror put a slight tremble in his voice as he spoke. German continued smacking his lips over his meal.

"It may sound crude, but I'm only asking for you to expand your already impressive work. I've seen that case of notes you've been dragging around this time. Plans for the next Wooden Man, no doubt." He pointed with the spoon at the stack of papers sitting on the table next to Artman, who flinched at the realization, like some creature having crawled up his arm when he wasn't looking.

He had almost entirely forgotten he'd brought it with him, having planned on showing them but never having a chance.

"I imagine you still have quite the surprises still hiding in that mind of yours. And don't worry, the staff will be happy to model for you if you so require it." German said, in between breaths of swallowing his delectable rose pudding.Artman starred at his plate a moment and smiled to himself. Idea's bubbling up in the back of his mind, tickling his skull.

"A Minotaur, you say. Well, I can adjust the illusions projected from the mirror to match a Minotaur's bull head. I might need to construct a larger frame depending on how tall you want it." Artman was already drawing up plans in his mind.

"But a larger frame will require more power to move unless-" then shook his head "I'll have to run some calculations on how large your monster can be, but I can have the ideal measurements in a few days."

"Excellent, then I can expect you to deliver the beast within a month?"

"Make that two, depending on the size you want. Anything larger than what I have now with will require time to calibrate for the new frame. But you should have your-" he had to pause and swallow his revile "Minotaur, within a month."

"Perfect, Well. I'm sure you'll want to get working at the soonest convenience. For now, Enjoy with my compliments." San German celebrated.

Artman then finally looked down and took note of the pile of pudding sitting on his plate, slowly steaming away, the scent of flowers spice and sugar, drifting up on the wispy white clouds.

He plunged his spoon in and took a bite, and it was good.