• Closed • [Seasonal] Twilight Masquerade

[Avalon]

Ashan 122, Arc 722

Setting the Scene…

“It’s time,” Pierre said.

He and another stood near the entrance to the outermost dock, checking ensembles and, when satisfied with that, surveyed their surroundings. People would begin arriving soon, and everything needed to be ready. Everything was ready – their employer was a bit obsessive about such things – down to the finest detail. An entire season’s work for one night, but what a night it would be!

Adjusting his theatrical masquerade mask, Pierre gave his associate a satisfied expression. “Even the weather seems to be cooperating with us this eve. I wouldn’t put it past Charbonneau to have arranged that as well.” Glancing out over the vast inlet, a light fog seemed to be rolling in, adding dramatic flair to the scene.

Shrugging, Bruneoise – the associate – replied with a thin smile. “We have our instructions. Anything else is beyond our control. Please don’t get caught up in the theatrics of it all, and keep your mind on the job. That’s all that matters, understand?”

The pair stood silenty, watching and waiting.

The Port Arrivals...

As the invited guests arrived, Pierre or Bruneoise, decked out in ornate suits and bejeweled masks, would greet each one, carefully checking people off the list and meticulously taking the names of their plus ones. It was evident from the conversations had between guests and the pair of greeters that both Pierre and Bruneoise, who would introduce themselves as such, were very well versed in etiquette and social mannerisms, efficiently answering any questions that might come up.

“Welcome to the departure point of tonight’s festivities! We are waiting on the arrival of your transportation, but it won’t be long….” Of course, they knew the ship was just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to make its dramatic entrance. Timing was everything.

People kept arriving, in singles or pairs. A large group formed, seemingly from all walks of life. In looking around, some guests were extremely notable and recognizable. A few Council members, other well-known members of Scalvorian society, business-people – the list went on. Obviously, some people were in their element, and others, not so much.

True to the promise, a figure emerged from the fog, slicing through the water slowly. The large vessel slowed as it approached the dock, and within bits, several forms jumped from the ship to the berth, working to secure it with ropes. All those from the vessel wore the same clothing as Pierre and Bruneoise, sporting various vibrant masks.

The walkway was lowered and down sashayed a stunning woman of dark hair and crimson lips. A masterpiece of a dress wrapped around her lithe form, and she knew how to wear it, not the other way around. Those who knew clothes and fashion knew what the right clothes said about you and what they could afford someone in the form of ‘armor.’ Still, beyond all else, fashion was art. Anyone paying attention to such things would realize that the brunette understood all those things.

Pierre stepped forward, offering a hand to her as she negotiated the last step. When entirely on the dock, she smiled to those assembled. “Good evening, my darlings! Welcome, welcome! My name is Juliette Renoux, and I’m your Mistress of Ceremonies for this delightful event. Our host is anxious to meet each and every one of you, so it’s time to depart.” Juliette’s voice was clear and concise to all those present, speaking to having some vocal training as it was not easy to inflect one’s words across a span of people effectively. What she said and how she said it was carefully constructed to convey precisely what she wanted.

"Upon arrival at Charbonneau Keep, you will be guided into the reception area to mingle for a time before being led to your assigned table. Our host will make his entrance before dinner is served, and after dinner, music, mingling and dancing." It was important to let people know what to expect, and Juliette was one of the best at what she did, quickly guiding the guests though the events of the evening.

Stepping to the side of the walkway, she gracefully motioned for Pierre and Bruneoise to join her while continuing. “Our gallant steed - The Lestibournes - awaits! You will find everything to cater to your needs onboard. Nights are still a bit chilly in Ashan, so there are fine blankets to keep you toasty, should you desire. There is an indoor and outdoor seating area, to suit individual preferences. Plenty of room for everyone to spread out and enjoy the trip. Once underway, it will take us approximately one break to arrive at our destination, but I promise we will take excellent care of you!”

Sweeping her arm dramatically towards the walkway, Juliette stepped back and let her associates do their thing. Ladies were offered a gentlemanly hand boarding the walkway, and men given a respectful nod of the head.

Once all the guests had boarded, Juliette, followed by Pierre and Bruneoise, swiftly made it onto the ship, and the crew retracted the plank to the vessel.

The Journey Begins…

As the guests arrived on the ship, they were quickly greeted by two lovely young women wrapped in bright, but tasteful, gown ensembles. Color was good. Color meant that people who needed your assistance could find you when they needed to. Color was a fantastic tool when appropriately employed. Juliette was in a deep, elegant red that oozed sophistication, yet the colorful attendants' purpose of color seemed much different.

Giggling slightly, the bubbly blond Fleur, clad in a charming shade of fuchsia – not too bright, not too dull - delightfully gestured towards the indoor area, pointing out the candlelit tables laden with hors d'oeuvres and refreshments. Juliette hadn't been wrong when she said that the guests would be taken care of, for all manner of hot drinks and items designed to keep people warm were present. Decorative bins filled with tiny orange sandbags, helpful in keeping one's hands warm, were dotted throughout the inner cabins while piles of warm blankets, lightly scented with lavender and lemon, were offered by the colorful attendants.

Opposite Fleur, pointing guests in the direction of the outdoor area, was Therese - her friendly but more serious counterpart. Resplendent in wisteria, which complimented her deep crimson tresses, she spoke with an air of refinement. While there were no food tables in the outdoor socializing area, it did offer stunning views of the water and swirling fog. Blankets and sand hand warmers were readily available, handed out by friendly crew members who easily chatted.

No matter where one went, ample seating areas were prepared, peppered with cushions and decorative pillows for the comfort of the guests. Soft music played in the background, provided by a pair of roaming violinists. They gracefully wove and weaved through the mingling crowds, occasionally meeting up for a spirited musical dual, to the delight of the guests but then retreated to either the cabin area or deck.

Everything about the trapping of the ship screamed indulgence. If a guest asked a question or needed something, the attendants tried to answer or provide what was requested. They were a very accommodating lot, to be sure, and their core mission was to make everyone comfortable.

The ship quietly slipped away from its moorings and began the trek out of the dock inlet, fog becoming heavier with swirling ripples and patterns. Glass-like, the surface of the water reflected the dying light of day. By the time the ship arrived at the Keep, the darkness of night would be upon them.

Timing was everything....

The Lestibournes was on its way.

Mod Stuff: Please Read

Here we go! Welcome to the Rebirth Cycle, Arc 722 Seasonal! I've designed the OOC areas to be informative but not conclusive, so if you ever have questions, please let me know via discord or pm. I will undoubtedly miss a lot of things! This is my first solo Seasonal so please by patient with me as I'm figuring out the process as I go.

Info & Rules

• There will be a posting round each week. This was stated in the sign up. If you miss a round, there will be consequences including but not limited to death by chocolate, zombifying, and being attacked by a flock of rabid wild geese. Two rounds and you are out! You have been warned...
• This style of event moderation - with objectives etc - was created by a wonderful moderator named Crimson. I had forgotten all about it until I saw Peg used it here. Thanks to Crimson for the amazing mod style, and to Peg for seeing it carried forward for the enjoyment of future writers. It's a legacy very much worth continuing. Much love to you both!
• You are all so pretty....

Things to know

• If your pc would be of the type to know, The Lestibournes is a for-hire leisure ship, often rented out for parties and such.
• The invitation I posted did not implicitly state that it was a Masquerade event (my very first mistake for the event - sorry!) but yes, it was on there. Your pc may bring their own mask, if they would be inclined to do so. If not, there will be masks provided at the event.
• The guests are a mix of well-known npcs and unknowns. The Council members in attendance are Marcelle Tren (Trainer) and Leigh Birch (Proper). It is likely your pc will know some npcs ( it's not all strangers) and I'll be bringing in some later in the event.
• Next post will include the arrival at Charbonneau Keep.

Objectives

• Describe your character's clothing and mask (if you brought one!)
• Describe an image you see in the fog
• Describe an hors d'oeuvres that your pc partakes of (if any)

Annotations

• I wrote the entire opening post, up to and including the arrival at Charbonneau Keep. However, I thought I would be doing you all a disservice if I didn't let you play a bit in the ship before moving on. Also, I didn't want the opening to feel so massive that you had a million things to respond to. Hopefully I gave you all enough to react/respond to!
• Instead of classifying The Lestibournes as a for-hire 'leisure' ship, up until the final draft, I had it listed as a 'pleasure' ship! Oops! Glad I caught that before posting!

Next Post: Tuesday, March 22nd

[Zana]

122nd Ashan, 722

The invitation had come to her at Smooglenuff Manor and Zana had been a little intrigued. No one knew who sent it, but it had arrived and, she'd decided that she would attend. Sadly, Devin could not make it at this time, but Zana had no issues with going alone. Devin was wonderful and attentive and he was positively adoring - all of which were baseline and utterly necessary for Zana - but the person she most loved in the world was herself, and so she was very happy to spend some time alone.

Therefore, Zana had prepared. A masquerade event caused her to think about what she was wearing and, she had decided, it was best to stick with the classics.

So, Zana Delroth arrived - very well aware of the importance of making an entrance. She had flown over on her Dragonling, Zeke, and she arrived just as the boat itself did. She flew in, silhouetted against the sun as it sank and she was well aware that a gold dragonling was hard to beat in terms of impressive. Of course, the only thing that did beat it was a gold dragonling being ridden by the most beautiful woman on Idalos and so, as her flying mount flew in with the golden sun behind her, Zana held gently to the reins of the creature and, when Zeke landed, she slid gracefully to the ground.

Zana wore a form-fitting golden dress with sparkling silver sequins all the way down it, a dress from her time in Viden when she had been married to one of the nobles there. High heeled shoes were hidden under that dress, which had a slight train and she had put minimal make up on her eyes in order to accentuate her lips. "Thank you so much, Zeke darling," she whispered into her dragonling's ear. Then, with a final caress of his neck, she watched as Zeke took off and soared back into the sky. Ruby red lips lifted in a smile as Zana considered that she was quite happy with that entrance.

As she looked around, Zana reached into her small purse and she pulled out her final accessory for the evening. As she put on the golden mask, which did almost nothing to hide her face but instead emphasised her eyes. Zacchary, her molten-gold dragonet landed on her shoulder and Zana reached up and gave him a gentle scratch on the ear. "I believe we're ready to go darling, don't you?"

She listened to the woman speak - judging by her the "mistress of ceremonies" knew what she was doing in terms of make up and dresses. Zana was never bothered or threatened by such - she was far too confident in her own abilities to ever concern herself with the scratching of peasants, so she smiled and thanked the woman, took the hand offered to her as she boarded the boat and she looked around with a laconic and rather amused air.

It was nice.

It wasn't wonderful, but it was nice. "Oh dear, Zacchary, darling, I think we're over dressed." Two people met them and Zana immediately considered that the people running this were more concerned with themselves than their guests. No one had serving staff in bright or noticable colours, after all. That would be fine if one wasn't hosting a ball where one could expect every guest to be wearing something bright and noticeable - but when ones guests were likely to be wearing such, one put the staff in black or white, in formal but not frilly, in order for them to stand out and be accessible to the guests.

One negative for the evening so far. That wasn't bad, Zana thought, considering that she usually had more than one by now so they were doing well, really.

There were lots of snacks and drinks, which was lovely, and Zana was happy to pick up a small and delicate biscuit with caviar atop a swirl of salmon. It was delicious and she entirely approved. However, when she got to one of the blankets, Zana wrinkled her nose. She'd intended to come and grab one, to make things more comfortable, but they were scented? "Darling, that scent would entirely clash with my perfume. Do you have any without an associate smell?". Women wore perfume and scented blankets were not something which Zana wished. Thankfully, the staff seemed to be well-trained and amenable, so Zana was gracious and didn't pick up on any other things. INstead, she thanked them for her un-scented blanket and chose to sit out, looking at the stars.

Sadly, there were not a lot of stars visible, but rather there was a dense fog. She watched that fog for the outline of Zeke and, as she did, she imagined that she saw the shapes of birds, the wind moving it and in all of it there was her beloved father. Reaching up to touch the delicate necklace she smiled as she sent a silent prayer to her father - and one to her aunt - out across the still water.

Sitting, Zana sipped at a glass or warm whiskey and honey mead, and she looked out across the sea. She didn't interact with anyone, simply sat and watched. For now. Currently, there was no one of sufficient interest to her in order to garner her attention, so she simply petted Zacchary and looked out at the sky as it changed hues to dusk.

Objectives Aimed for

1. Described her outfit and mask.
2. Had a caviar and salmon horses dourvers.
3. Saw her dragonling, birds and the movement of wind in the fog

She comes on strong with a beautiful smile,
But her teeth are as sharp as a crocodile.

[Oram Mednix]

Hi Ho

Oram had managed to miss the last masquerade ball; unfortunately, it did not appear he would miss this one. It was important, after all, for the Chief Ranger to represent his outfit on such an occasion.

”Will I be the only Ranger there?” he had asked, scowling glumly at the invitation.

Refed had shrugged. ”You’re the only one who got one of those, so I would guess, yes: You will be the sole Ranger there.”

Oram was not a people person. More importantly, he was not a dress-up person, which meant that what to wear to such an occasion would prove an impenetrable riddle for him. Fortunately, if that was the right word, he knew people with more definite opinions about what to wear.

”Will there be any other Rangers there?” Signy had asked him, when he had reluctantly turned to his sister-in-law for advice.

”No, just me,” the hunter had responded, shaking his head sadly.

Signy had grinned knowingly. ”I think I know exactly what you should wear,” she assured him. Which, given his last experience with buckled scarves, had not reassured him at all.

-----------------------------

And so it was that Oram stood now on the dock, dressed in light blue collared shirt and trousers, with black boots and a white felt hat, which had an oval brim turned up at the sides, a creased crown, and a thin black leather hatband. Instead of a ridiculous buckled scarf, he wore about his neck a mercifully simple red bandana. It actually did not look that bad, he admitted grudgingly.

Oram had not wanted to select a mask, but Signy had pointed out that, if he did not show up wearing one, he would be obliged to pick up one at the event, and it was likely to be “fussy”. So the hunter had relented and gotten a simple black cloth mask to wear. It was small, and would do little to conceal his identity. No one acquainted with the Chief Ranger would have any doubt who that masked man was.

Looking about at the other attendees, Oram could see that his outfit was more simpler and more rustic, at least in theme, than that of most other attendees, several of whom he recognized notwithstanding their masks. He exchanged cursory greetings and bland blandishments to those he found himself unable to ignore or avoid, whether on the dock or on board the ship, which was a fussy, if comfortable affair. The weather and waters had conspired to make the trip smooth, even if the cooling evening conjured mists from the placid surface of the bay as the Lusterbarn or whatever the ship was called slid from its berth and away from shore.

Oram helped himself to some warm cider, and, accepted a scented blanket, even though he did not need one to be comfortable. He enjoyed the lemony scent of it as he stood on deck, looking out into the gathering fog in an attempt to see their destination. The Chief Ranger did not see this Charbuno Keep in the mists; however, he could have sworn he spied the shape of a silvery white horse in the fog.

[Rakvald]

The mask that Rakvald had ordered arrived by courier earlier in the afternoon. He spent the rest of the time resisting the temptation to open it, all while wrangling his family for the party that they'd be attending, as an important family in Scalvoris society. And while Rakvald was merely a transplant from Quacia who'd wandered far and wide before finally settling on this place, he felt reasonably invested in the Island that he felt justified in receiving that mysterious invitation.

The honor of
your presence is
requested on 122 Ashan
for an evening of
merriment, music, conversation
and wonder!


Transportation will be provided to Charbonneau Keep.
Please arrive at the Scalvoris Town
docks promptly at the appointed time. Overnight
lodging will be available.

So he wasted little time in convincing his wife that they ought to attend. Indeed, she was fairly amenable to the idea, and even reminded him several times in the run-up to the date in question that he had to get his wardrobe in order. Rakvald had to agree. He didn't think a musty leather cloak and robe or a skimpy loin cloth was appropriate dress for such a function.

He dressed himself in the best that the finest tailor in Scalvoristown had to offer him. And while snide and confusing comments about Rakvald's appearance being hard to elevate with mere fashion. Rakvald let them roll of his back. He might be ugly, whatever the guy meant by that word, but he was still the sexiest beast in Idalos. He admired his new facial tentacles in the mirror, which had grown down to his neck now. At first they'd been subtle, baby tentacles growing like a mustache from under his nose. But now they were as a full beard, almost prehensile limbs of their own. Good for gripping food, yes, but not much else. In fact, they'd sort of resulted in several new speech impediments. But he took it all in stride. He had his family with him now, having sent for them from Desnind. And now he had it made.

The suit he'd chosen for this function was large, fitted to his hulking 6'5" frame. It consisted of a beige linen blouse, beneath a forest green silk vest that was slashed with a black brocade. His pants were simple sharkskin leather, colored black with matching boots. Around his neck, he wore a puffy, dull pink cravat. Over all of that, a sharkskin longcoat dyed forest green, with silk inner lining in dull pink, and a black collar. Cinching at his waist was the Swine King's Buckle and BeltPlated with T7 Hardened alloy of Cobalt-Gold and filled with T4 Cobalt. The buckle shows an embossed boar upon its face. The boar has two gems for eyes. One green garnet, and the other a red garnet. In order for it's enchantment to work, it must be attached to a belt. If at any point the belt material is severed, the enchantment will be broken until such a time as the buckle is placed on another cord or belt material.

Ability/Enchantment: The Swine King's Buckle grants the wearer with an increase to their physical capabilities depending on their stage of hunger. When the wearer is satiated and not hungry at all, their durability and endurance is increased greatly, allowing them to resist attacks and blows that would knock any other man over. Wounds incurred are far less greivous. Anything short of serious to mortal wounds will be reduced in severity. Weak missiles and debris will glance off of him whenever they hit him, although sharper arrows and javelins will still cause every bit as much damage. The more the wearer hungers, the more they trade their durability for strength until all durability is lost and replaced with strength, allowing them to hit with greater force. Able to generate enough force to splinter wood and dent metal. On his face, he wore The mask he'd ordered from the jeweler and metalsmith. Crafted from bronze cobalt, it was thickly plated with rose-gold, and encrusted with thousands of rubies of various sizes, forming a fancy pattern along the metalwork of the mask. His hands were bejeweled with golden rings, also encrusted with star rubies. Finally, a pair of bracers that were plated in rose gold, and studded with pale rubies along their cuffs.

He took a look at himself in the mirror, mask and all, tentacles dribbling beneath the mouth of it, and thought to himself, "Damn I'm sexy."

His wife was busy getting ready herself, and probably satisfied with a ballgown of forest green silk, to match his coloring, and also some dull pink accents. They'd decided to color coordinate, or rather Ildred had insisted upon it, and he had to agree, thinking that was cute of her.

He walked into their bedroom while she was putting the finishing touches on her outfit, and tried to rub her shoulders with his tentacle hand. She slapped it away playfully.

"Aww come on." Rakvald complained.

"Don't think about it, I didn't got o all this trouble to have my outfit torn off or befouled."

"How long you gonna hang that incident over my head??!"

"I still sleep next to a pitchfork, just in case." She smiled sly.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth, a woman's tongue!

Nevertheless they managed to get ready and done with the preparations without much more fussing. They got Svartholda dressed in her little pink outfit. She had fair hair and chubby cheeks. A little miracle she was, to have been born from a Lotharro and yet a girl. She'd been quite the disappointment surprise to Rakvald when first he saw her. Now she was his little angel and everything that mattered to him.

He tickled her with his tentacle, and she giggled. It was then he noticed her hiding something behind her back. "What's that, Holda?"

She grinned and giggled up at him, "Found Lucky Dream bear!" Then she pulled it out from its hiding place and showed him. A brown stuffed bear, in fact, the one he'd been given after the Fall of Emea. How did she get it? Last he saw, he'd mailed it off to Zarik in Etzos...

"How did you..." Rakvald wondered and marveled at the girl's find. But then decided he'd rather let it be a mystery for now. "You know what, you keep that, young lady! Maybe it will bring you more luck than it did me."

This said the family departed for the assigned place.




The people gathered at the docks were well and truly posh and seemingly had worn their best outfits to this function. There were a few examples of the scruffy types, but all in all it was a high-class crowd. Rakvald didnt particularly care how others presented themselves. He was friendly to all regardless of their status, as a general rule. We were all just balls of flesh, after all! And the richer wrappings could be deceptive, hiding an unknown infirmity.

Rakvald knew better than to judge by the coverings. Even so, he couldn't argue with the results of his wife's expert cosmetology skills, and her ability to choose and wear an outfit. The forest-green gown, slashed with dull pink silks was stunning on her rubenesque form. He had to resist the urge to give her a squeeze then and there. As it was, he could handle his own sense of temptation, to a point. Svartholda was clutched to his chest, held in his good arm. From there, she held onto 'Lucky Dream Bear' and watched the proceedings with keen interest.

"What's that!" She asked when the ship pulled into view. "Ooo, a wood castle! Rock, can I go!?"

Rakvald mumbled to her, "Aye dearie, we'll be boarding it soon."

She could barely contain a squeal, as she pulled Lucky tight between her arms.

Rakvald mostly kept to himself after they arrived on board, politely declining most of the offerings, of warm blankets. He did take one for Svartholda, though, his little girl. A bright pink one. This done, he set her down on the deck, and walked over toward the railing to observe the fog that was rolling in.

As he stared off into the distance, he couldn't escape the sensation that he'd seen such a fog before. Long ago, in the Untold, he'd delved into the Atramentous Trench. A winding and dark passage in Emea, with grasping arms and limbs of all descriptions, pulling dreamers into a thousand different dimensions and locales.

He gasped and stumbled backward. Ildred was there to stop him from bowling over a line of crewmen. She whispered harshly, "What is it?"

"I thought..." He began, looking back at the vision of the Atramentous Trench, but then it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. "I thought I saw something. Nevermind..."



Meanwhile, Svartholda was walking along, dragging a blanket and her bear. She looked up at all the pretty people until she came to Zana. Then her mouth fell agape a moment. She thought she must have been the prettiest person she'd ever seen. Svartholda, said, with a clear voice, "Why are you so pretty?" She clutched her bear, halfway hiding her face save for her green eyes as she stared at the Mortalborn. The elevation of her chubby cheeks though signaled that she was grinning broadly, however.

ooc

Objectives aimed for:

1. Described outfit and mask.
2. Described shapes in the fog.
3. Didn't describe what he ate yet (he didn't eat anything yet)

[Balthazar Black]

122 Ashan 722

It felt strange to go to an event like the one the invitation had indicated without Elisabeth but she was staying in Haven and Balthazar had had just about enough of people managing to get him letters while he was out and about. How did they keep reaching him when he didn't stay in the same tavern more than a few trials? They weren't going to Haven, they were going to him. He decided that it warranted investigation, whether or not there was something nefarious behind it. He also figured that it would be a good opportunity to meet people which couldn't hurt. Well it could but most of the time it was good to know more people. He knew that he didn't want to go out shopping for new clothing for the party so he just went through the things he already owned. He had worn a decent outfit to the Mummer's Ball in Rharne. Why not wear it here as well? The blue made it seem a little dark so he took the white shirt from a different outfit and wore it instead of the blue shirt that the suit had come with. Black and white. Nice enough and close enough to match his mask.

When he was dressed, he found himself looking down at the etheric lines running along his arms. He thought about soothing the sparks inside himself to hide all but his mutations and then decided against it. He was who he was and for the moment he was content to look as he did... then again. Balthazar knelt down in the tavern room he was staying in and pulled his black bag out from where he hid it under the bed. He reached into the side pocket where he had an assortment of different small magical items stored and pulled out a pocket watch. He turned it over in his hand a few times, his thumb rubbing against the button at the top for a few trills before he decided against transforming into someone else.

He slipped the pocket watch back into the bag and took out a few other items which he knew would fit in his pocket with relatively no discomfort. A coin that didn't look like a nel, four rings he put on his fingers- two on each hand, and a golden medallion in the shape of a comet. One he brought for fun but five he brought for safety. He slipped the bag back under the bed and moved over to the drawer in the room where he had set his mask. At the moment it was just a black mask with silver lines that imitated the mutation tracing down his cheeks while framing his glowing eyes but Balthazar figured he could alter the appearance when he got there and got a better idea of what sort of masks others were wearing. Even then he might have just left it alone.

Once he was dressed he grabbed his walking cane and set off to the party. He wasn't entirely used to walking with the cane because he had no real need for one, but it was a useful thing to have around. As strange as it might have felt not to be walking to the pick up with Elisabeth, Balthazar was never really walking alone. Crow and Fuego accompanied him everywhere he went but Fuego was often the more conversational one. Crow was more vigilant. Balthazar walked and the small burning rock rode his shoulder while the crow flew overhead. He missed Elisabeth but he knew she was busy with Haven. Most of the time they could make the time to go together but the stars did not always align for them.

He arrived at the port about the same time as the ship did and lingered around the back for a few bits, content with the company of his diri alone. He couldn't help but notice some of the other arrivals. The woman on a small gold dragon certainly drew attention but Balthazar was content not to engage with the other guests yet. He wanted to get a look at everyone who was there. He noticed the Council members, Chief Ranger, and a few others in the crowd. None as remarkable as the dragon rider though.

A well dressed woman, which was about as far as Balthazar cared to describe her in his head, emerged from the ship and introduced herself to the crowd that had gathered for the party. Juliette Renoux was her name and she declared herself the Mistress of Ceremonies for the night, not the host. She explained how the night would proceed and rather dramatically directed them to the ship they would be taking to Charbonneau Keep. People began filing onto the ship and Balthazar moved with the flow of the crowd. Everyone was oozing color except him. For someone hoping not to stand out, it wasn't a good sign.

He didn't have the same problems with the cold that others did so he refused the offered blanket as he passed through the indoor area. His nose found the tables of food a trill before his eyes swept over the hors d'oeuvres. He always thought that they were such strange little snacks but he had to appreciate, at the very least, how they contributed to the color of the evening. So many different bite-sized foods for guests to try. He opted for one of the stranger mixes of savory and sweet, a bacon wrapped date. Reliable and as he had expected, enjoyable. Appetite appeased, Balthazar moved to the outdoor portion of the ship so he could gander a the stars. Elisabeth had always enjoyed the stars. When he looked up at them he liked to think she was doing the same but he could never know for sure.

Unfortunately there were no stars out that night- or more accurately no stars that could be seen. Instead there was a thick mist over the water that seemed to hide them from the world and the world from them. Intent on looking into the sky, Balthazar found himself instead staring intently into the fog. It seemed strange. He reached out to the elements around him to listen for their call, just incase something was wrong. He considered trying to disperse the fog with a little wind but abandoned the idea when he noticed the intricate swirling of the mist. It looked almost like a flame dancing in the wind. Almost. Certainly close enough to capture Balthazar's attention for a bit more of the journey.

[Zoro Astrian]

“Too long have I chorkled in the den of the seven sleepers,” Zoro declared. He was even starting to sound like his Uncle Zeb and realized it was true. Since the Other Thing, Zoro only ventured out from the garden and the library that he inherited from his Uncle on special occasions.

This was a special occasion. A ball. He liked balls, especially the masked ball that he’d been to a while ago and appealing to his parsimonious character, he was delighted to have the perfect outfit for this upcoming event.

He looked good, he thought, a tall lithe figure dressed in knee high leather boots, tight black britches with a pristine white silk shirt topped with an extravagant black cloak and the outfit was completed by a hat which boasted a very wide brim. He decided he would even take the black scarf-mask with him that had served him so well at the ball hosted by Madam Le Fleur. And of course he took his rapier to maximize the full effect.

Zoro ambled down to the docks at the appointed time with a slightly tickling feeling in his tummy. It was a wonderous evening and something was about to happen! Even Maureen, his fairy diri, seemed happy, chirping about how good it was to be out of the house. There was quite a crowd on their arrival and Zoro was pleased to notice some people that he knew. Despite being young, inexperienced and relatively new to the life of land-locked Scalvorian he was happy that he recognized at least a few people. He noticed Balthazar who he’d seen at Madam Le Fleur’s and knew him as a man with quite a reputation. Then, Zoro was startled with delight to see Oram Mednix with whom he had experienced so much during the Forging and the Other Thing. It was the Other Thing, and trying to make sense of it, which had kept Zoro home and enjoying the scents of his Uncle’s strange herbal garden. He did not like to think about the Other Thing. The implications, the ramifications, the knock-on effects, the ripples in the water and consequences of his action were simply too much to think about.

So, Zoro didn’t think about them.

‘Oram’s here!’ Zoro’s thought was so sudden and so intense that he briefly wondered if he’d spoken aloud. He almost panicked. ‘It’s ok!’ he thought with wild focus ‘I’m in disguise. He won’t recognize me! I’ll just keep a low profile as a tall mysterious stranger. In a mask.’ It was at this point hues of pink and red swirled around him which, unfortunately, he did not notice, much to Maureen’s suppressed delight.

Zoro’s thoughts were interrupted as a vision arrived from the sun. A magnificent woman clad in gold and silver arrived on what Zoro believed to be a dragon. The dragon was gold, the woman wore gold and Zoro was breathless.

“Oh look,” Maureen said sardonically in his ear. “A pair of breasts and some blonde hair just landed. Pull yourself together, man, they’re probably magically augmented.” Maureen didn’t like the woman with the dragon, on principle. She couldn’t have explained what principle it was, but she felt very strongly about it.

‘She’s beautiful’, Zoro thought to Maureen. “If you like that sort of thing, I suppose.” Maureen replied. “Seems a bit too obvious for your tastes.” Zoro would argue with her that he didn’t have any taste, but the young biqaj was learning, albeit rather slowly.

Lost in the flurry of youthful emotions, Zoro made his way on to the ship. There was a lot to take in and he first went to get a drink of hot chocolate and a small snack. A tiny piece of fish, wrapped in wafer-thin ham and seasoned with an unusual pink salt was his first nibble, and he was delighted at the taste. There was a fog coming down and Zoro looked at it. Swirling shapes formed in his imagination and he half-believed them as he almost saw them with his waking eyes. Dancing figures, wings of dragons, creatures and shapes which were akin to the swirling kaleidoscope of his mind.

He turned away before his imagination took him to the Other Place and the Other Thing and as the delicious taste of his snack turned to ash in his mouth, Zoro purposely strode to where they were handing out blankets. He was so busy struggling with his inner demons that he didn’t consider what he was doing. He was aware that he was standing next to someone, and as he heard her ask for an unscented blanket, Zoro’s sense of politeness and propriety kicked in.

“You can have my cloak, if you want,” he said and his eyes turned to look at the person he was making the offer to. He saw that it was the beautiful woman and his angst and trauma disappeared as his eyes turned pink, his skin turned pinker and pink and red mist swirled around him. It was her. HER.”I mean. If you want,” he stammered. “It’s a nice cloak. It’s not a blanket. But it’s a cloak. And it’s nice.” Gathering his wits and jutting out his jaw Zoro puffed out his chest and pulled himself together. “Greetings and well met, fair maiden,” he said as Maureen let out a strange caterwauling sound which was a mixture of a howl of delight and a scream of warning. “I am Zoro Astrian,” he bowed in an old fashioned manner and clicked his heels together as he did. “I am at your service mi’lady.” And as he stood from his bow, he held out his fine black cloak.

[Darius Baer]

Arc 722, 122nd of Ashan

"I didn't realise it was going to be a masquerade party," Darius grumbled.

The Scalvorian was standing in front of a mirror in the captain's quarters of the Libertalia. He was wearing a fine crimson suit and struggling to position a silver mask properly upon his face.

"Oh hush, you," Astra gently admonished from behind a folding screen, upon which she draped a variety of garments. "I thought you'd appreciate not being recognised."

"Aye," Darius conceded, "but I've never been great with crowds."

"Really?" came a surprised reply. "I've seen you address the crew several times..."

"Speeches are easy," he clarified, although that was a slight exaggeration. "But small talk..."

Astra giggled in reply, and Darius wondered if she was recalling one of their awkward early encounters.

Darius was still fumbling with his mask when Astra made her way out from behind the dividers. He could hear her footsteps as her boots connected with the wooden floor, but it was not until she came into view in the reflection of the mirror that the captain finally stopped what he was doing. Even through his mask, his widening eyes were plainly visible, and his lower jaw dropped open.

That was because he was seeing Astra in a dress for the first time. It was navy in colour, and it showed more of the form of her body than her usual loose layers ever had. There were legs, and arms and curves...it was all a lot to take in for the Scalvorian.

But the most eye-catching feature was Astra's mask. Sparkling silver and purple, it covered the top half of the half-biqaj's face in a curving design. At each tip end, against her temples, a small colourful panache of feathers rose towards the heavens. The mask framed her high cheekbones, doing nothing to hide her maroon-glossed lips, which were held in an impish grin.

Cat got your tongue?One apocryphal theory regarding this saying's origin is that the "cat" referenced is the cat-o'-nine-tails, a vicious whip used on early sailors which would render the victim speechless. Astra teased gently as she adjusted Darius' mask.

"I'm speechless," he admitted, realising that his cheeks were burning.

"Finally!" she laughed good-naturedly.



The dock was crowded. That suited Darius just fine, because that, combined with it being twilight, meant he could enjoy a degree of anonymity for as long as it might last. He took no issue with being recognised in and of itself, but it could get tiring. Every trial spent in Hopetoun, people were looking to him to lead them. At council meetings, he was a baron and a settlement leader. Even on the Libertalia, he was the captain, but at least he had someone he could look to; whose presence always seemed to make his responsibilities easier to manage.

And she was with him now, one hand resting inside the crook of his elbow, patiently waiting with him at the back of the crowd.

With his mask on, Darius was content to passively listen to the hosts as they explained what to expect. He was able to witness Zana's over-the-top arrival and say nothing publicly - even if he and Astra shared a few quiet whispers. And when someone walked past who was very obviously Oram, he didn't feel a need to reach out to his friend.

Instead, he was able to enjoy the unusual rediscovery of an anonymity that was still lingering after they had boarded the ship, enjoyed stuffed mushroom hors d'oeuvres, and made their way outside to enjoy the cool sea breeze.

Darius was finding the reprieve of fame to be quite pleasant, and Astra's company always made for a brighter experience. He watched her feathers shifting in the gentle wind as the ambient glow of moonlight tried to push its way through the fog to reflect off her mask and lips.

She caught him looking, of course.

"Still disappointed that it's a masquerade party?" she gently teased.

They shared a grin, and held hands by the ship's rail, their fingers interlocking. The evening seemed like it was off to a wonderful start, and in a sudden burst of courage, Darius reached forward to kiss the half-biqaj beauty...but she quickly turned away.

"What's that?" she asked, clearly distracted as she pointed out into the fog.

Her mask concealed her furrowed brow, but Darius could hear the concern in her voice.

He followed her gaze, and saw what he could have sworn was the surprisingly accurate outline of a bear. He was naturally intrigued, but his curiosity didn't go close to matching his level of disappointment that his lips hadn't met Astra's before she'd caught sight of the unusual shape.

OBJECTIVES

Clothes: fancy threads!
Hors d'oeuvres: stuffed mushrooms!
Fog shape: a bear!

[Wisp-Wish]

“Well I am going.” Her daughter Ọyä pouted and crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Oh no you’re not. The letter is addressed to me – and we are not going.” Wisp stated matter-of-factly while she swept the floor. But Ọyä knew her mother well enough not to be dissuaded by her mother’s low decisive tone. She watched her mother flick the grass broom with an short overly aggressive motion that betrayed her frustration.

“You’re such a WITCH - keeping us trapped up here in this tower like Rapunzel.”

“Mother knows best.” She replied dully, hiding the tears her daughters’ words drew. They had found the letter tucked into the hive on their morning rounds. The crisp thick paper and calligraphy was more expensive than anything the Tunawan household had ever seen – let alone owned. Wisp had been immediately suspicious of the invitation and though she’d allowed Hoyt to carry it home at Ọyä’s insistence she had already decided her household would not be attending. It had been simpler than she’d expected to keep a low profile in Scalvoris. The household had settled into Sweetwine, sold their honey, and had rarely been disturbed. Peace had stretched over arcs, Lisirra hadn’t stirred within her, and her children had grown into beautiful, blossomed adults.

As her son and daughter had grown, long passed the age at which most Tunawa left the nest, they chafed at the narrow walls of their home. Her son loved Sweetwine and though he remembered Desnind fondly, he considered Scalvoris home. Ọyä on the other hand had only known Sweetwine and remembered only a shadow of Desnind’s trees and the particularly sweet flavour of its water. Yet, it was she who wished so desperately to explore beyond the confines of the small woods.

The rest of the evening passed in sullen silence. So heavy, her son had disappeared by noon into the frosty outdoors to avoid the even frostier indoors. It was evening and Wish had stoked a fire in the stone enclave. Her son had returned and her daughter warmed stones upon it to tuck into their hammocks to keep them warm through the night. Wisp sat cross legged, staring into the small flickering orange hearth.

“I took Hoyt out to the…” but his voice faded away into the quiet background din as Wisp considered what to do with her daughter.

“Okay.” She interrupted, turning to her daughter.

“We can go to the masquerade.” She watched in sadness as her daughters’ eyes lit up.

“Oh – Mama, I –“

“But –“ Wisp interjected, “then you have to leave.”
“Leave?”

“Yes. Leave Scalvoris. You’re a woman now and you deserve to have the life you want. You’ve outgrown this forest. You can’t grow here keeping my secret – not the way you want to grow.” Wisp sighed softly, forcing herself to be brave and look into her daughters’ eyes. You have Saun in your eyes… she thought of their brilliant yellow depths.

“Mom…I don’t want to leave. I just – I just want to have a job that isn’t farming bees. I want to live in Scalvoris Town or Egilrun or any town that’s lit passed sunfall.” She waved an exasperated dismissive hand at her mother. Her brother had slunk over to the fire and was warming his hands against it and watching the two with an unreadable expression.

“Would you put your mother in danger so? Staying and living loudly in the city?” Wisp scowled at her daughter. There’s too much trade with Desnind in Scalvoris Town to go unnoticed for long. Eventually someone will connect the dots and find me… “Daughter, do not be selfish or cowardly.” Wisp stood and laid her hands on her daughters slumped shoulders. “You are talented and kind, loving and ambitious. Don’t dimmish your light by staying in Scalvoris and living a small life with your mother.”

Ọyä nodded slowly, watering her cheeks quietly as her mother led her to the fire. Her brother laid a quiet reassuring hand on her arm and the three sat in silent company for the evening; each was caught up in a nostalgic cloud of remembering.

____________________________________________

Wind beat down on the giant black wasp and threatened to toss him into the sea. The weight of two riders made an evasive roll impossible, forcing the wasp to land awkwardly on the railing of the ships tail. The two women watched as an enormous glittering gold dragon landed delicately near the pier. Wisp immediately recognized the gold ensconced woman and gulped, What have we gotten ourselves into?

Her dread only increased when she saw the equally magnificent attendees. Each was clad in increasingly preposterously expensive robes and dresses, with masks that cost more nel than Wisp could make in a lifetime. There must have been some mistake…why would we receive an invitation to such an extravagant affair? Even as her disbelief increased, her daughters mouth grew wider.

“Oh Mama…they’re all so beautiful!” With the dragon no longer creating an unflyable wind Hoyt had brought the two woman to join the menagerie of masks at the dock. Wisp was so overwhelmed by the flurry of colour and wealth she couldn’t have described a single guest. Her daughter was chirping excitedly in her ear, pointing out a man’s facial tentacles with a squeal of delight and disgust and this or that individuals’ pearls or feathers. “She practically has a peacock on her face!” Ọyä drooled over Astra.

Wisp gulped in embarrassment as she looked down at her own dress. She had spent what little nel she had to afford the blue and silver dress. The dress was a strapless high-waisted ballgown. Narrow tapered petals created a blue bulb around her legs. Velvet silver leaves caressed her bodice and provided the material for elbow length gloves. Her face was masked in a tin half-mask with twisted points radiating outward like silver sun beams. She had thought it excessively elaborate at the time but was glad now for Ọyä’s convincing nudges for even this dress was worth less than a single of Astra’s feathers. The one Wisp had considered purchasing would have made her look a serving girl amongst these attendees.

Hoyt had made himself comfortable on a clean dry portion of the ship somewhere having deposited his heavy load on the pier. Meanwhile, the Tunawa gazed at the living art of a woman who introduced herself as Juliette Renoux. Her voice carried across the gathered crowd with spectacular ease and Wisp found herself shivering with increasing anxiety.

“Mama…you’re practically shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Oh dear, it is just a touch cold is all.” She smiled and squeezed her daughter’s hand. No need to make her anxious when she’s having such a ball. she decided and the two strode hand in hand up the walkway.

____________________________________________

Directed by a giggling blond, Ọyä pulled her mother along into the warmer interior of the ship. “We’ll get you all nice and warm inside.” Wisp felt a twinge of shame for the lie as her daughter cast a longing look at the patio where the majority of the guests were filtering into, even as she drew her mother into the indoors. They were surrounded by the finest footwear in Scalvoris – bejeweled heels and tassled toes moved gracefully around them.

“May I help you?” They were asked by a staff member. Wisp couldn’t help but notice the curious head tilt that accompanied most interactions with humans. It seemed few Scalvorians had seen a Tunawa.

“Oh yes, it is just a bit nippy out.”

“We certainly can’t have that. How about I grab some heated sandbags and a blanket for you two and set them up outside on the patio?” She offered, smiling at Ọyä. Oh…she noticed the longing look as well.. Wisp thought the level of training was remarkable as she would have thought the glance was something only friends or family who knew the contours of a familiar face could detect.

Soon, the two were settled on warm sandbags on the deck while a vanilla scented blanket was settled around them. While Ọyä tried to remain with her mother, she could seen the youth’s eyes flick towards the attendees eagerly.

“Go on now child. This is what you came here for, no?” Wisp smiled. Ọyä gratefully dipped her head and disappeared into the crowd. Wisp turned and looked into the cool fog the blanket guarded against. As she lost herself in remembrances, she swore the fog created living thoughts. An image of Ọyä when her sunflower had first blossomed and she was brought into the world, her giggles and screams while she wobbled and walked.

Wisp smiled to herself and shrugged off the blanket. She didn’t want to waste another moment with her daughter.

[Avalon]

Ashan 122, Arc 722

The Port Arrivals...

Pierre and Brunoise ushered the people as they arrived, noting who was there and in some cases, who wasn't. Other arrangements would have to be made for those missing the event, it seemed, but that always had been the plan.

Standing on the deck of The Lestibournes, a figure watched the approach of Zana Delroth, flying overhead, arching an eyebrow at the attention to detail the woman put into the scene. Nary a bit or bob out of place. Mood, lighting, and the appropriate amount of mystery and flair. Most people didn’t understand the purpose and power of minutiae, but that one did. It was something she would need to delve into further later in the evening, but for now, there were other things to attend to.

Adjusting her dress, Juliette prepared herself for the ship's own grand entrance. Timing was everything, after all.



Moving through the crowd, a slender man quickly went through the list in his head. Nothing written – that had been rule number one. Everything had to be memorized or remembered.

Tipping his hat to ladies as he gracefully strolled between people, he marveled at the sheer number of people who responded to the invitation. Give people a bit of mystery, and they come flocking. Smiling, he found delight and amusement in that thought but had something else that needed his attention right then.

Beyond the impossible-to-ignore the entrance of Zana Delroth, which was rather show-stopping, causing the crowds around him to gawk, others required specific attention as well. The hulking form of the one known as Rakvald wasn’t easy to miss, nor the presence of the mage, Balthazar. Both had mutations that made them stand out, despite the masks.

Rakvald had brought his family, yet Balthazar seemed to be missing the one expected to accompany him. Damn. That would make certain people unhappy, but expecting the unexpected was what they prepared for.

The Chief Ranger tried to make himself as invisible as possible, which seemed on par with what people knew of the man. He didn't like attention, and his body language definitely spoke to that.

The young Biqaj – where was he? The man had difficulty locating him until his attention was steered in that direction, gaze drawn by the inexplicable pink and red ribbons of color swirling around the Zoro. Chuckling softly to himself, he checked that name off his list.

It took a moment to locate the young settlement leader and Baron. When he did, he found him at the back of the crowd with a stunning woman on his arm - an interesting development.

Finding a small tunawa in the field of brilliant color and noise was quite the challenge, but after a bit of searching, he found two, nodding politely with a smile as he walked past.

One by one, he found them all, making some mental notes and moving on. It was going to be a long evening and there was much to accomplish.

Wandering off, there were more people to follow up on and since the ship was easing into her moorings, there wasn't much time.

The Journey Begins…

The Lestibournes was on its way.

To no one's surprise, Zana was already the star of the show. Where she moved, eyes followed. Servers made sure to stay near her if the blond required anything, and when she asked for an unscented blanket, they procured one immediately. Zoro was there too, having lost sense of where he was, offering her his cloak. While dragonlings and dragonets were not the things of legend and fable any longer, the appearance of one upon her shoulder did cause quite the stir.

Quietly, a man approached the same area Zana lounged in. Tall with short-cropped blond hair, finely dressed in a black suit, rich in detail but lacking any color others seemed to relish. Classically handsome, from what could be seen. Standing at the railing, looking over the water, he remained silent for a few bits.

The silence didn't last, however. As the man turned from the railing, his eyes landed on Zana, offering something of a greeting. "That was a stunning entrance back on the docks, and I hope you don't mind saying that. Your dress is exquisite, by the way. A woman who knows how to dress is a treasure." It was evident by his own ensemble that he had an appreciation of stylish fashion himself but wasn't a risk-taker in couture.

Rakvald's daughter approached Zana then, asking her question of the beauty. The man leaned against the railing and watched the two.

Oram stood on the deck as well, appreciating the view. He didn't seek out company, but company found him regardless in the form of a tall young woman.

"Chief Ranger Mednix, is that you?" The inquiry was curious but not at all timid. She stepped over to him, clad in a fundamental dress of deep emerald with a matching mask, and gave a tight smile. "Ranger Elise Shmickel. I've seen you a few times, but we've never been properly introduced." Holding out her hand to him to shake, she continued. "This type of thing really isn't something I do, but an invitation showing up out of the blue? I couldn't resist the mystery of it. Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

It was easy to see that Elise wasn't into fancy clothing nor cared one way or another. The only indulgence to extravagance, it seemed, was the fact that her long dark tresses were ornately plaited, gold chains woven throughout. Everything else spoke to a young woman who valued comfort over fashion.

Rakvald stayed with his family, taking a blanket for his young daughter and noting those around him. The fog often had a strange effect on people, and it seemed that evening, he wasn't to be spared. Other guests curiously watched the mage when he reacted to the mists, but his wife took care of the matter, settling things.

One of the attendants who helped usher the guests onboard The Lestibournes, Fleur - blond and bubbly, walked through the crowd, checking on people. Coming upon the small family, she smiled to Rakvald and Ildred, and a quick wave to the departing young girl who seemed to have a mission of her own. "Hello again! Is everything well? You seemed to have quite the fright! Is there anything I can get you, Sir?"

A few guests walked past, complimenting him on his choice of ornate mask. Some peered at his mutations curiously, but none said anything.

Balthazar's mutations were on full display, prompting a few looks but like Rakvald, nothing more. An urge rose to call to Defiance, to play with the fog, but he resisted. He looked at the stars and thought about the one that wasn't there, still in quiet contemplation.

But the silence was never meant to last, for after a trill or two, a voice called out to him. "Balthazar Black? Is that you?" An average-height man, black hair and brown eyes, approached the mage, smiling. Balthazar would recognize the man to be Professor Fridson from the University. They had shared a table at Saoire's Feast, along with Elisabeth, Oram, and Shania from the Council, and a rotating cast of Immortals.

The Professor was a happy, friendly man who loved to talk, but he had a question for the mage. "When we met, you looked a bit different? I wasn't sure it was you until I got up closer. How have you been?"

Zoro was having quite the start to his event! With his lively sidekick drawing amusement from his various stumblings, he eventually found himself next to Zana Delroth herself, causing a colorful little show. Scalvoris, of course, was an odd place, so the guests simply smiled and curiously looked on.

One such was the other attendant, Therese. Clad in a beautiful wisteria, she looked as though she wished to approach the young man but he was currently engaged with another guest, and there was no desire to interrupt.

Once there was an opening to speak to him, she would approach, smiling. "Excuse me, Sir, but how do you do that? The skin and mist, that is? I've never seen anything like that." Her words we spoken softly, not quite as outgoing as others appeared, but she definitely seemed interested in knowing more about the whole color-changing business.

Darius and Astra lingered by the railing, content to keep to themselves. Juliette, however, deemed it necessary to check in on the pair and see if there was anything she could assist with. Stepping closer to them, she saw Astra point out into the fog, exclaiming about something she saw. Giving the pair a moment to react, she gently cleared her throat and commented. "I find the fogs mysterious and wonderful." Smiling, the dark haired beauty moved to Astra's side, glancing at them both as she continued. "The fog is much like the sea, I think - full of infinite wonder. But I'm sure you two know more about that than I."

Offering her hand in greeting to both, she introduced herself personally. "I'm Juliette. If you have any questions this evening, please feel free to find me. I'll be around all evening."

Wisp-wish and her daughter enjoyed the warmth of the little sandbags and tunawa-sized blankets, watching the revelry before them. Not long after her daughter slipped into the sea of people, a young server approached the lounging tunawa. "Do you require anything, milady?" Of course, he didn't realize she was just getting up to join her daughter, but the offer stood regardless.

He gave her a quick smile, continuing. "I can get you a drink, or some food? Do you need more blankets?" The words came out a little fast, betraying perhaps a bit of nervousness. He was either very new to his job or perhaps had never served a tunawa before.

The evening progressed, and the ship was slowing and turning into a shallow inlet before long. They had arrived at their destination, it seemed....

Charbonneau Keep…

Charbonneau Keep was something of a mystery. No one knew who built it initially, but the property was rumored to change hands quite frequently – its name changing with. Blackstone Manor. Chateau de Shadowpond. Villa Charleroi. To most who knew the area, it was just a manse they often saw in the distance as their vessels passed by, not extraordinary by any means other than its size.

On that night, however, it was transformed. Those on board could see the Keep on a slight rise as the ship approached, overlooking the water. Lit up against the backdrop of falling night and swirling fog, it offered something of a different look for its guests.

Large carriages awaited to whisk everyone up to the Keep in a timely fashion, outfitted with warm blankets and pillows to keep people warm, cozy, and comfortable on the trip. Majestic lowland livesta steeds smoothly pulled the transports along the winding, tree-lined lane, headed for the festive lights on top of the hill.

The carriage doors were opened upon arrival, revealing a lavishly decorated courtyard illuminated with large candelabras and ivy. Footman extended ladies a steady hand, and all ushered into the grand foyer.

Juliette, having been the first to depart The Lestibournes, rushed to the Keep in time to greet the guests, continued her duties as the people arrived. “Welcome to Charbonneau Keep, one and all! Refreshments and appetizers await you in the reception area. Please mingle and make yourselves at home. The doors to the Ballroom will be opening soon, and there, you will be escorted to your assigned tables.”

Beyond the entrance, the grand foyer spread out, spanning to the back of the Keep and spilling out onto an ornate balcony area through a set of wide double doors. Inside or out, both sites were fringed with tables laden with appetizer displays. Fresh fruits, canapes, crudites; all set out to dazzling effect on stunning towers of crystal, while servers roamed the areas, colorful trays of champagne, wine, and mixed alcoholic drinks hoisted high. If a guest preferred something not on offer on the tray, all one needed to do was ask, and it would be brought promptly.

The musicians from The Lestibournes were present as well, joined by a few others now. Instead of roaming, the small group set up in a central location and played some lively tunes for the chattering crowd.

For now, the time was theirs, to do as they wished.

Mod Stuff: Please Read

I've designed the OOC areas to be informative but not conclusive, so if you ever have questions, please let me know via discord or pm. I will undoubtedly miss a lot of things! This is my first solo Seasonal so please by patient with me as I'm figuring out the process as I go.

Info & Rules

• There will be a posting round each week. This was stated in the sign up. If you miss a round, there will be consequences including but not limited to death by chocolate, zombifying, and being attacked by a flock of rabid wild geese. Two rounds and you are out! You have been warned...
• This style of event moderation - with objectives etc - was created by a wonderful moderator named Crimson. I had forgotten all about it until I saw Peg used it here. Thanks to Crimson for the amazing mod style, and to Peg for seeing it carried forward for the enjoyment of future writers. It's a legacy very much worth continuing. Much love to you both!

Things to know

• As stated in the thread, Charbonneau Keep's location is somewhat known, but forgettable to most. It's just always been there. The name is new. (You may use this information if your pc would reasonably know it.)
• The guests are a mix of well-known npcs and unknowns. The Council members in attendance are Marcelle Tren (Trainer) and Leigh Birch (Proper). It is likely your pc will know some npcs ( it's not all strangers) and I'll be bringing in some later in the event.
• Next post will include seating and beginning of dinner.

Missed Rounds

• Balthazar - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Darius - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Oram - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Rakvald - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Whisp-Wish - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Zana - No misses! Gold star for you!
• Zoro - No misses! Gold star for you!

Objectives

• Describe something you see on the carriage ride from the dock to Charbonneau Keep
• Speak to an npc! Describe one piece of their wardrobe that isn't detailed in my post. (This can be small - jewelry, a scarf, etc)
• Describe a drink that your pc partakes of (if any)
• Greet a pc! (You don't have to stay and talk if you want. A nod of the head is fine...)

Annotations

• There are lots of nods to various books, television shows and inspirations in this event. I find it a great bit of fun to do that. The Lestibournes is named after one of my favorite characters in Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn series.
• Cutting these scenes down a bit to make them more manageable for people to respond to seems to be working fairly well so I'll continue that trend. If it starts getting to be too much, let me know. (Sometimes I unconsciously will slowly slink backwards out of habit...)
• I always want to spell 'Delroth' as 'Delaroth.' It's a real problem. My spell check wants 'Defiance' to be 'Definance', which would be a very weird sphere of magic. Why do I have issues with 'D' words?!?!

Next Post: Wednesday, March 30th

[Oram Mednix]

If you get an outfit, you can be a Ranger, too!

Oram looked around the crowd flocking around Delroth’s daughter; then, he looked away from that crowd. Zana’s dramatic arrival, and the attention it drew, was an opportunity. Pickpockets, for example, liked to exploit such opportunities to find victims. While the hunter doubted that there were many pickpockets here tonight, there were bound to be those who were sizing up the company, for whatever reason. A mistrustful, party-pooping part of his mind was curious to see who those “those” were.

Oram noticed a tall, slender man stalking among the colorful, masked guests; he did not appear to be one of them, nor did he have the sort of showy, solicitous air that the hospitality staff did. Was he just an alienated guest? the Chief Ranger wondered, or something else. Realizing that staring at the guy too long could mark *him* out as a possible pickpocket, Oram looked away, back towards the Zanamania-stricken crowd. Zoro Astrian, whom he had passed briefly just a few bits ago, was lavishing a silly amount of attention on the young lady. Well, good, Oram thought. Maybe he’d get lucky. At very least, it would keep the Tarouz busy awhile, giving her some amusement other than buttonholing him to remind him once more how right she had been about that Cassion thing.

After a moment, his eyes swept the deck once more for the strange man. Instead, they met the form of a woman in a pretty green dress and braided black hair standing next to him and greeting him. Scowl gave way to grin as puzzlement gave way to surprised recognition. ”Elise Shmickel!” he exclaimed, in the happiest tone he had managed all trial. ”I didn’t realize there would be any other Rangers here. And neither did anyone else I spoke to before coming here. The last time we spoke, it was over some not-very-well-cooked kazan fowl.” As he accepted her hand, he thought that she seemed taller than he remembered her. Glancing down, he saw why; she wore gold-colored lace-up heels at least three inches high. How did women walk around in those things? Oram wondered, let alone dance?

The Chief Ranger then looked up over Elise’s elevated shoulder to glimpse the strange thin man sweeping past. For just a trill, he got the impression the man had been watching the two Rangers talk. He looked back at Elise and shook his head in response to his question. ”No idea what this is about, apart from some local mucky-muck wanting to throw a big party with everybody important on the island attending.” Which, Oram supposed, included himself these trials. But if that were the case, why invite Elise? Was there something about her he didn’t know? Was she from a rich family?

Oram did not consider himself Elise’s superior in anything other his position in an organization; nonetheless, he was aware of how people who lived in big houses on private islands with fancy names like “Chateau de Villa” tended to rate social worth, and he was not sure why such people would invite him and Elise to the same gathering. It wasn’t really his business, however. He was just glad that there was somebody else here he had something in common with, even if that something was work, which you weren’t supposed to talk about at parties or something.

Eventually, the Lost T-Bone landed and the company arriving on shore found themselves awaited by carriages. Of course there were carriages. Nobody could just walk up to a house and knock on the door with these sorts of affairs. In spite of the chill and fog, Oram asked to sit atop the carriage, even on the bench next to the coachman, to better see what they were approaching. The coachman objected that it would be chilly and uncomfortable, and only reluctantly accepted Oram’s assurances that this would not be a problem for him.

A plateau rose from the surrounding shore, and the carriage followed a road cut into that plateau’s sides, which rose to block the view to either hand until one neared the top. The cut seemed to funnel the mist into a denser fog, which thinned out suddenly just as the carriage arrived before an imposing stone pile. It looked much like Oram had always imagined a place called “Chateau de Villa” would look. It had towers and turrets and battlements and portculli and … those things that stuck out from the wall that defenders could use to pour stuff onto would-be attackers. The Chief Ranger wondered whether these structures had been built because they were ever really needed, or whether perhaps its architects had simply read the same storybooks Osric had read to him when he was a kid.

The Chateau didn’t seem to have a moat or a drawbridge. The gate was opened and the portcullis raised, though Oram unconsciously ducked his head as they rode beneath its jagged iron spikes. For a few trills they were enveloped in darkness until they emerged into a courtyard, brightly lit by candelabra and braziers, and a-clatter with the carriages that had arrived ahead. Oram lighted onto the cobblestones just behind the coachman, and soon carriage doors opened and footmen rushed forward to help ladies out. All were soon ushered into the interior of Chateau de Villa.

The sweep of said ushering had separated Oram from Elise, who had ridden inside the carriage, and he found himself once more the Lone Ranger, a masked man surrounded by masked strangers. The place was certainly grand. Oram wondered if Devin were among the guests, mentally comparing the grandiosity of this party to that of his. There were trays of drinks and snacks all around the foyer, and some of those trays were following guests around carried by staff. Oram himself took a coffee drink which he realized only after tasting it contained some sort of brandy or other liqueur. As he sipped it, he looked around to see if he could spot Elise or anyone else he knew. He soon saw Darius Baer, although he only nodded to the man, as he seemed busy with a rather fetching escort. Well, good, Oram thought. Maybe he’d get lucky.

After exchanging his cursory pleasantries with Darius, Oram would look around to see if he could once more spot that odd thin man he had noticed earlier.