• Event • Midwinter Masks (Moderated Thread)

[Pegasus]

13th trial of Cylus, Arc 717

O

n the stroke of the seventh bell of night, they started to arrive. Some of them came in carriages, others arrived on foot but the cold night air wrapped around them all, frosting breath and causing shivers. However, one could be forgiven for thinking that they couldn't feel the cold as the guests arrived. They did not seem to mind, not worrying about the goosebumps on bared flesh or the crunch of ice beneath feet. They were all here for one thing, for one reason.

Andaris' Midwinter Masquerade Ball.

Having been cancelled the season before, it had not in any way lessened the enthusiasm of those attending. Style and fashion was everything and there were servants every few paces it seemed. The crisp snow on the lead up to the manor house had been salted by slaves every break before the arrivals began and, once most people had gone in those same slaves would go and clear the snow which had been trodden to mush underfoot.

There were rumours that King Cassander himself, newly returned from the mainland and negotiations to strengthen Rynmere, might attend with the Empress, Emerson Sands. There were whispered questions and giggling gossip behind fans, but no one knew anything for sure.

As each individual arrived, no matter who they were, they were subjected to the same stringent rules. Names were taken, weapons removed. Each person who came to the ball that evening was given one of two gifts. For the ladies, the gift was a silk fan, individually designed with a delicate and intricate pattern and finished with the finest brocade and lace. The gentlemen, however, were given a silken kerchief, again with intricate patterns and each one unique. The guests were asked, each one, to keep their gift in sight for the evening, for it was part of festivities.

Should anyone arrive without a mask, well there were spares and no one would be given entry unless masked. If some inappropriately dressed individual should arrive, they would not be allowed entry as the dress style was formal. So it had said on the flyers and invitations and this was strictly enforced.

Inside the Main Hall with vast vaulted ceilings and sparkling chandeliers, music was playing by the best orchestra in the kingdom. The food was exquisite, tiny morsels brought around on silver platters by the fleet of waiters and waitresses, each servant wearing an identical mask and all of them dressed in the same costume; each servant wore a pair of deep red trousers and a white shirt or blouse with a mask which looked like a phoenix covering the top half of their face.

Drinks were served and the guests had only to arrive, to begin to mingle once they had been announced upon entry and to wonder what the night would have in store.

Off Topic

Welcome to the masked ball. We very much hope that you enjoy yourselves. Please adhere to the following rules:
1. At the moment, one post only per person between modposts. As soon as that changes, I'll let you know.
2. Please post your entrance, announcement and then your stepping into the main hall.
3. Feel free to have spin off social threads ~ however, please see 4 below.
4. There are going to be moderated spin off threads for certain individuals. These will form part of a much larger plotline which will be making its way through Rynmere in the next few seasons. Therefore, please don't leave the hall or write that you're spending hours together.
5. I will post here again on Tuesday 21st February
6. Please, no placeholders. I need to know who's there and who's not. There will be a chance to join in later rounds, it isn't now or never, but I need to know who's here. So posts only, please.

And, as always, if you've got any questions please drop me a pm. Enjoy, have fun etc!

[Xander Andaris]

Xander stood beside Alistair outside of the building where the ball was to be hosted, people were flocking to the party by the looks of things. He was not a great lover of these events, but he wished to expand his contacts and build stronger ties with the other nobles. What better place was there to connect with your fellow Lords and Ladies than at an Andaris ball.

The cold air at first had been refreshing but now as his tail coat flapped in the wind and his skin blushed red he could not wait to be inside and surrounded by the warm air. Even he from the cold North struggled with Cylus nights, and he was certainly not dressed to deal with the freezing temperatures. Therefore, the faster they got inside and talking with the people of importance the better. He was hunting for friends, for allies and with the assistance of Alistair he hoped he may find some this night.

He wore his normal formal attire, his blue and grey waist coat was covered by his double breasted navy blue tail coat. He wore grey wool trousers and black knee high boots and it was all finished off by his simplistic black and silver half face mask that hid his handsome features from the world. He had bought the mask especially for the occasion, it was the only item of clothing he had bought since the clothes he was wearing currently. As always he had remained simplistic, opting for a simple design that would keep him from drawing too much attention but still compliment his appearance. He actually quite liked the mask, he liked the way it hugged his face and guided the viewer to look at your eyes. He preferred when people would look into his eyes, he felt it made them more likely to be truthful.

"Well, I think we have stood here long enough Lord Venora, let us go inside." Xander patted his friend on the shoulder and began to lead the way. He had left his sword behind him not bringing it to the ball, he did not believe he would have a need for it in such a well guarded location. Instead he had come unarmed, besides of course his fists, a weapon that could be used for any occasion. "Lord Xander Krome and Lord Alistair Venora." He said to the door men who stopped them to check for weapons and provide them with their silken kerchiefs. Xander took the gift graciously and placed it into his chest pocket before entering into the hall with Alistair to be announced.

"Lord Xander Krome and Lord Alistair Venora." The Herald announced their entrance and Xander accepted the drink that was offered to him by the waiter by the door. The hall was full with the sound of music from the orchestra and a crowd of people mingling. The mixed sound of laughter, loud discussion and music was at first overwhelming, it took Xander a few trills to adjust to the loudness within the room.

He looked around at the vast swathes of people, he was not used to being surrounded by so many. His life mostly consisted of being alone or with the servants and his parents in his home. "Well they are certainly a lively bunch, I guess it is up to you to introduce me." He looked at Alistair and smiled, he was feeling both nervous and also excited. He was ready to start making connections building bridges his family burned, in some ways he was building them with the possibility of them being burned again. But his aims were of maintaining them when his rise came, he did not want war with every house in the Kingdom. Instead he would keep conversation light hearted tonight and meet as many as he could.

[Alistair]

The last ten trials had been... different. They'd been tiresome, entertaining, thrilling, inspiring, precarious and jubilant all the same. He had spent a third of the entire season staying with Xander in his estate, and in that time, the two had learned a lot about one another. Some things, he would have given freely to the Lord of Krome, considering the bond of friendship they'd formed. Some things, such as the truth of his magic, he had not given with such open arms. Nevertheless, they remained to be a strong upcoming alliance, and the two men arrived at the masquerade together as scheduled. Alistair wore his fur coat above his special attire, an outfit he'd commissioned in Venora to be delivered to Andaris on this very day.

The man wore a silken brocade vest, of black and copper colors, with a black-steel colored pair of trousers and dark, long boots. His mask was equipped to his face, already, gold in appearance and roughly matching the hue of the patterns on his brocade vest. Half of Alistair's face was covered entirely, and the other half was a pale, silky white - he'd been practically frozen over in the few days travel here from Krome, and desperately sought to enter the establishment.

"Now I understand," he began, shivering between his words, "why you Northern Houses always appear so angry when you first arrive at the Winter Ball."

The road to here, in Cylus, was hell - not to mention the clothes one had to wear. The King was privileged indeed, only needing to step through Andaris city proper, or be brought by carriage. The man nodded eagerly as Xander recommended they step inside, holding his arms against his chest to secure some small offering of warmth. Upon meeting the doorman, he allowed the more composed Lord to state their names, and quietly slipped the handkerchief from the man's grasp and placed it in his vest's pocket.

Being announced, he immediately noticed several eyes upon him. Alistair had been something of an enigma the past two seasons, and he was sure that many a Lord and Lady was curious as to where he'd been traveling off to. The official story was the Eastern Settlements, but alas, he had little stories to tell from Wellea, Oakleigh or Berwick. To be truthful, Ali had little stories to tell at all -- at least if you didn't count the ones that could get him hung, shunned or stripped of his nobility. The last two seasons had been . . . quite . . . something else.

Immediately upon entering the establishment, he felt warmth overcome him, and the man exhaled his last cold breath before embracing the temperature of the establishment. His eyes went alight with joy, upon seeing the plaza filled with faces, clothes, conversation and artistic talents. House Venora had certainly brought their best here, as well, and he already clearly recognized several musicians and artists from his own Duchy.

"A lively bunch indeed," the man said, smiling brightly. Genuinely. Playfully taking Xander by the arm, almost as if he were his pending groom, the man stepped into the crowds and immediately got to work, introducing Lord Xander to the people of the auditorium. Before he could approach his first collective of Lords, however, he was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Lord Alistair!" the woman called, accompanied by her daughter, and the prestigious Lord Angelreim.
"Lady Solange!" The Venora replied, surrendering his grip of Xander's arm and kissing the woman on each cheek. "It has been quite some time since we last spoke, Lady Solange," the young Lord stated, smiling enthusiastically. The Lady nodded her head, with her daughter coming up from behind Alistair to hug him.

"Ali!" she called him, informally. "It's been so long, you handsome man! I'd bludgeon you for not sending me flowers if you weren't so clearly preoccupied with other attractive blokes," she said, laughing, as her eyes averted to Xander Krome.

"Who is this?" she asked.
"Lord Xander, of House Krome, my dear Reimen," he replied. "Xander," the man called him, turning his head to the Krome, "this is Lady Lyanna Solange, and her daughter, Reimen Solange. This," he looked to Reimen's husband, "is Reimen's husband, Baron Nielsen of House Angelreim."

That was a lot of Reim's in one name, but hopefully Xander wouldn't make that joke - Reimen had heard it too often.

"House Solange, as I'm sure you've heard of them, is a family of designers that gained their nobility by creating the most beautiful dress in Rynmere's history for my late great-grandmother. They have, since then, been a key element in the revolutionary trends of Venora fashion -- our houses have worked closely together in creating beautiful formalwear for nearly a hundred arcs." Alistair of course spoke highly of them, as they were one of House Venora's most loyal vassals, as well as a family dependent on Venora's guidance and patronage.

Lord Nielsen of Angelreim was of a similar flock, Lord of a territory in the Duchy of Venora and an outspoken advocate for the Duchess Ebony, and the succession of Alistair. Their union was perfect, as well as fortuitous for the aspiring Duke.

"This, my lovely ladies and gentlemen, is Lord Xander of the House of Krome. He's a stunning gentleman, inside and out, and I've spent much of Cylus staying with him in his home." With Alistair's words, Lady Solange offered her hand to be kissed, smiling gracefully at the young Lord.

"Well met, Lord Xander of the Great House of Krome," she said, formally, "I am Lyanna Solange, of that small and charming house, and proprietor of Venora's silk and textile industry. It is a wonder to meet you -- I have heard of Alistair's fondness of you from the grapevine."

[Rey'na]

Rey smiled politely to the men outside the house, showing her mask in her hands. She then placed it on before being let in, bowing to the two. She'd heard a lot about this place. Unfortunately, her weapons had been removed. But her new best friend hadn't - a small dose of poison. White Saxifrage, in a form of a consumable. A liquid spread over food, she was told by her guild leader. If the men had tried to search for the dose, and found it, they'd have been done for assault - so she was safe.
Rey walked in to the beautiful building, hoping she looked the part. Her dress was a black silk, matching her mask near to perfectly. It was comfortable, but more importantly it was flashing. Her goal was to turn heads, and for some it was working. She felt a few eyes on her, and noticed a few others. She was just relieved her mask his most of what was noticeable of her - the last thing she needed was people to know who she was. Especially tonight. She found herself approaching the man before her, who she was told she needed to speak to. As she did, a fan was given to her, one she held delicately at her side.

"Lady Rey'na" she stated to the man as she entered the building, her new fan in her hand. The man announced her name as she entered. She smiled under her mask, her ego boosted by the word of 'lady' being used to describe her - even if it was her own doing. She felt as if she was genuinely beautiful, as if people adored her even if they didn't. She'd always loved the attention her looks had given her.
Rey then gazed around the main hall, looking for familiar faces - only to find none. To nobodies surprise, Fridgar was late. For now she would have to make do with whoever she could find. Her eyes did catch a few handsome men, however. A pair of them, talking to a group of others. She had little experience of what to do in a party, but she was almost certain being social was part of it. She could dance well enough, to - perhaps she could obtain one of them as a dance partner.

As Rey made her approach, she paused for a second. She made sure the slit in her dress was showing off as much leg as it could, and her fan was held delicately and her stance formal. She wasn't here looking for love, but making friends was no bad thing. Besides, an ally was an ally - and these two men would make fairly dashing allies.
Once their conversation had died down, Rey would bow her head politely to the two men, hoping to start a conversation. She would do the same to the others, but her eyes couldn't take themselves away from the two before her. She loved Fridgar, but if he shaved and had a haircut like these men, it wouldn't go amiss.
"Sorry to interrupt. Rey'na" she said, introducing herself. She wasn't going to explain why she interrupted, she just hoped the two didn't notice. She smiled gently, looking between the two. "It's...busy, tonight" she commented quietly, clearly shy. Why was she embarrassed to be talking in front of two men? She wasn't the type, but here she was, unable to form words. She just prayed silently to Lisirra that she would make it through this conversation, let alone the night.

► Show Spoiler

ooc:

8.4gn deducted for Velvet Mask
100gn deducted for White Saxifrage

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan disliked balls, especially those where you danced, although he wasn’t particularly interested in the kind of balls that were attached to a man either. He had been to exactly two balls in the past seven arcs. The first one he had been forced to attend because it had been arranged by his grandmother, and he had only managed to escape an overeager suitor by jumping through a window. The second ball had been Elyna’s ball. He had gone there more or less voluntarily because she was his friend, and you occasionally did unpleasant things for your friends. He was actually excited about the masquerade ball though, genuinely excited. There was so much potential for pranks!

He had rented a horse-drawn carriage just for the occasion. He already owned a horse, Maxos, named after the heir of House Andaris, but Maxos was stubborn, he didn’t know how to pull a carriage, and he wasn’t the best looking horse either. The horses that were in front of his rented carriage were white, the color of the season. He needed to arrive in style in order for his disguise to be halfway believable.

His clothing was more elegant than anything he had ever worn, and he wore elegant clothes quite frequently. He wore a fine suit of black and gold with a snow white silk shirt and black leather boots. Draped across his shoulders was a warm cloak of black wool that was trimmed with fur at the edges. His mask was golden and shaped like a dragon’s head. He also had a wig on that he had borrowed from Rynmere Theatre.

If you didn’t look too closely he resembled a certain boy king. Of course he wouldn’t actually call himself Cassander and give people orders, at least not here – impersonating the king was probably against the law – but if people wanted to mistake him for the boy king, he wouldn’t dissuade them from it!

As he was asked for his name, he hesitated for a moment and looked around before he whispered, “Tristan Venora, but don’t tell anybody. What point is there in everybody wearing masks if you announce their real names anyway?” His eyes twinkled a little, and he smiled conspiratorially. “I don’t have any weapons unless you count my disarming smile. Anyway, can I have a fan instead of a kerchief please? It’s great for hitting people and keeping unwanted suitors at bay!”

No matter whether he was given a fan or be forced to take a useless kerchief, he would then proceed to walk in and immediately grab a glass of red wine before he looked for his first victim. There was no point in attending a ball if you spent all the time alone. He just wished Ilaren were there. She would have loved it. There was a lot of alcohol to be had, and he expected to witness at least one brawl before the night was over.

► Show Spoiler

Bought: golden velvet mask & black velvet vest with golden embroidery. I have no idea how much renting a carriage is though.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar made his way through the perpetual night in the clothes he'd been forced to wear. It was difficult to breath. Why did he even need to dress like this if there was a high chance that he'd need to unleash and destroy the clothes anyway? His totem necklace lay under the fabrics, ready for use should he need it.

The collar almost choked him, hugging his neck like a noose. Shredding these clothes would be a blessing, no matter how much he'd paid for them. As such, he hoped for things to turn sour. Though going into this event trigger happy might not have been the wisest decision, the king was rumoured to be attending. Some pompous 10-year-old kid, or so he'd bothered to recall. Now that was an interesting thought, if things did get 'grizzly' this night, how would the king react? Fridgar shrugged, he didn't really care.

The snowflakes blew onto his bare face in the cold Cylus air, he ignored it and continued his walking. He hated these events, stupid-ugly-looking-uncomfortable clothes with stupid-ugly-looking-uncomfortable nobles in their stupid-ugly-looking uncomfortable palaces. 'Holy crap dude, we're totally savage, smart too' he thought to himself as he continued to make his way through the frozen streets of Andaris. It was only at the beginning of high town did he realise that he had forgot his mask.

He felt about his face for a trill, gobsmacked 'I take back what I said about you being smart' spoke the voice in his head. The city gates were too far back now, he was already super late - could he just buy a new mask? No, the shops would have been closed. He stood in the snow and pondered for a few bits, there had to be a solution to his problem. He turned to his rear to see a man turn the corner, dressed for the ball and wearing his mask - he was alone. Not only that, but his mask - he'd kill for a mask like that.

He quickly turned the corner into an alley and waited until the man came into view, then grappled him without warning and dragged him into the ally. He struck him once in the ribs, breaking them on impact and forcing the air from the man’s lungs, then struck a second time, puncturing the lungs with the broken ribs and preventing the male from being able to scream. He fell to the floor, gurgling choking noises. Fridgar poked his head from the alley, checking for anyone that would have seen - not a soul in sight. He slunk back into the alley, gripped the man by the scruff and dragged him deeper into the darkness. As he bent down to remove the mask, the stink of alcohol filled his nostrils - the man had drunk a few before attending the ball? That he could commend, his clothes though - he must have been from low town, he'd never have gotten into the ball wearing those or smelling like he did. His outfit was mostly jute, or so the feel of the fabric told him and he stunk of faecal matter and vomit.

Regardless, it was doubtful that there would be anyone at the ball waiting for him, unless he had some rich 'friends' that didn't bother to pay for his clothes or annual shower. Poor guy. Fridgar took the mask then stomped his head repeatedly, the skull eventually gave way and the rest of his features with it, mangling anything that would have identified the body. From there, he discarded the corpse into some available crates, a pack of playing cards fell from his pocket as he was lifted from the floor. He took the pack of cards as his own, pocketing them swiftly, was this man a gambler? He certainly fit the bill. It wouldn't be until Ashan that he started to smell. Perfect, nobody would miss him, nobody would find him and nobody would even know who he was. He wiped his boot free of the male's blood on the body's clothes, put the mask on and carried on to the ball.

The mask itself was made of wood, cheaply so, too. But how could he have gone to the ball with anything else? He stepped up to the front door and made his way inside in a rush, where he was stopped by a man who asked his name. He didn't have time for this, he was already so very late. What name should he use though? It couldn't be his own, that was a bad idea - perhaps someone he knew?

"Robek" he stated his father’s name bluntly, trying to edge his way around the man who only edged further in his way. 'Calm down, if you punch a guy in public all hell is gonna break loose.' he reminded himself, halting on the spot and taking deep breaths. The man squinted a little at his mask before nodding, handing him some sort of piece of cloth and returning to his position. Fridgar exhaled with relief then looked to the cloth with confusion - what the hell even is this thing? He entered the room and got announced as 'Robek'. Hearing other people say his father’s name only made him cringe, he should have picked another.

He looked about the room, a few people were looking to him and giggling, they must have liked his awesome mask. Standing above the heads of most people, he could see Rey'na in her outfit. His eyes lit up a little as he started his approach, how could he continue to hate tonight if he was in the company of Rey'na? The light in his eyes faded and his heart sank as he saw who she was talking to, two stupid, ugly-looking, uncomfortable guys. 'Oh.' It was totally fair, he'd been late and they were rich, good looking and everything he wasn't. He shook his head and turned away, walking to the nearest wall that some chairs lined. 'Nevermind, you're here on a mission. Just keep an eye out and be ready to become.' he sat and pressed his back to the wall, crossing his arms and examining the people in the hall. Their body languages, builds, any hint of concealed weapons maybe? He went to work.

► Show Spoiler

Charge me appropriately for the clothes in the picture, I'm way too lazy to price them!

The mask was free however

[Woe]

Woe arrived on foot, in what he thought was appropriate attire for the occasion. He was wrapped in a black, soft leather greatcloak that hung down to his ankles, it being mantled by a wrap of black fur trimmed by crow feathers. Beneath the cloak he wore simple leather brown boots, a leather trousers cinched by a leather belt and a wool shirt, all of these articles being black. Over his shirt he wore a light, green cotton gambeson with short sleeves, and on top of that a black vest of brigandine, which concealed some scale armor riveted beneath the leather. On his hands, a pair of black leather gloves.

His face was half-covered by a mask of black leather, which concealed his upper right cheek and the freed-slave brand beneath it. He opted for getting his own mask, as he may have been turned away for being a former slave.

While he may have been underdressed compared to some of the others in attendance, at least he could say he was warm, and dressed in the finest clothes his 'education' funds could buy.

As he approached the man admitting those attending the ball, Woe nodded in greeting, hailing him with a wave. "Master Woe, here on behalf of the Household of Master Tanner and Trader Erastus." He thought that didn't sound very impressive, especially to this lot, but it had to be good enough.

They checked his belongings, taking the bag at his belt, which contained his scourge. He handed it over voluntarily, of course. Although in truth Erastus had nothing to do with him being here, he set himself up to represent the man, and he ought to be on his best behavior, while at the same time increasing the Master's good name.

If there were no further issues with what he was carrying, he made his way reluctantly into the Masquerade.

Expenses and so forth

A X-large, black soft leather cloak, with X-large black fur mantle trimmed with black crow feathers, and a fastener cinched with an iron chain.
46 gn 2 sn 5 cn
A black leather brigandine vest, with scale armor riveted beneath the leather.
72 gn 5 sn
A pair of brown leather boots
6 gn
A pair of black leather trousers
37gn 5 sn
A black leather belt with a buckle
8 gn 5 sn
A black wool, long-sleeved shirt
3 gn 9 sn 6 cn
A black Leather mask
A light, green cotton, short-sleeved gambeson
8 gn 4 sn 3 cn
A pair of medium-sized black leather gloves
19 gn 5 sn

Total = 215 gn 8 sn 4 cn

[Yanahalqah]

Yana arrived by herself at the building where the ball was hosted, taking in deep breaths. Her white eyes –or at least the one functional one-- went over the small crowd of people which was slowly trickling through the entrance. All finely dressed, masked, and looking to be anything but the kind of people she would like to spend time with. She sighed momentarily, glad that this time she would at least not have to babysit Hannes. Even though the knight had been the one constantly hounding her for the better part of the previous season to accompany him to the ball, he caught a nasty flu and had been bedridden ever since. He had then instead started to beg for her not to go to the ball, and stay by his side instead. That man just did not know the meaning of giving up, it seemed. Yana wondered just how blunt she needed to be before he understood she had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever. Perhaps Hannes walking in on her and some other guy getting intimate would be the only solution that would work. Maybe.

Slowly she placed the mask on her face, fiddling with the cords to make sure it would not accidentally come off. It felt somewhat strange to wear a mask. Not only because it felt utterly redundant for a Yludih, but even more so because the mask depicted a Yludih. To say it was ironic was an understatement. Still, irony was something the false Eídisi could appreciate, and she was fairly sure that no one would ever think any Yludih bold enough to come out and basically wear a mask that only showed their real face. That was the beauty of it; others put on a mask, but Yana had, in a way, removed her own. It made her smirk just a bit.

Finally it was her turn to pass the guards and servants and be allowed entry to the event. “Saeri LaChasse,” she answered the doormen, “squire of the Iron Hand.” She was briefly checked for weapons, but she had none on her, and after having been given a brocaded fan, Yana stepped inside. It was a delight to have a clean underground under her feet. Not only because it was clean and she could stop worrying the floor length dress would get stained by dirt, but also because the floor was even, which made walking around in heels that much easier. Damn the one who had invented those shoes and had managed to convince society that women should wear them. The only positive thing about them was that they kept the hem of the dress just barely off the ground thanks to the added height.

She was announced simply as Lady LaChasse, which was fine, but the false Eídisi had the feeling the people close to the entrance were watching her all too closely, and for a moment she wished the meeting spot she and Rathaan had decided on had been outside. It was a good thing the mask hid a large part of her face. She did not think she'd have been able to hide the slight flush that came when she wore clothes like these. Dresses and the like were not her favorite garment. At all. Even if the tailor had crafted it to perfectly fit her, even if white was indeed the fashionable color this season, and even if the purple accents accentuated her periwinkle skin. Even if she liked this one better than that yellow atrocity from a few seasons back. Dresses, corsets, and shoes with high heels could all just be erased from existence.

Another breath, and Yana shook off any potential stares she got, deciding they were merely admiring both her fancy mask, fancy dress, and natural Eídisi elegance. She headed to the leftmost wall, which was where they had decided to meet up. There were a whole bunch of people there, but not Rathaan, at least, not that she could see. Still, she followed the wall, hoping she find him standing there somewhere along the way. And finding him she did, and easily too, considering his race and the matching mask he'd bought.

“I nearly thought I had arrived before you did,” she announced her presence, a little unsure how to greet him. If she'd been anywhere else, and he'd been anyone else, she'd just have given him a hand, or a polite nod. Now though she settled for a slight curtsy; this was a fancy ball after all. As she straightened up she nearly twirled a lock of hair around her finger, remembering just in time she had gone through a lot of trouble to braid it into a bun for the occasion. It had been more trouble than it was worth, she believed, but she was not going to let her efforts go to waste. “You look absolutely dashing,” Yana spoke then, taking in his outfit in its entirety. “I thought you had a dislike for such extravagant attire?” The tone of voice used should be enough for Rathaan to realize she was only teasing him. She smiled too, albeit slightly, though it did not show underneath the mask.

mask, hair, dress

Ledger

Shoes (heels) 1.2gn
silver earrings 2gn
silver necklace 5gn
mask 2gn (because it is fancy)
dress 5gn x 10 (silk) x 4? (color: purple? Silk is white-ish, right?) =

too freaking much

200gn
TOTAL=210.2gn[/sptitle]

[Rafael Warrick]

When he’d first heard of the ball, he’d rolled his eyes at the sky and prayed for mercy. It was at times like these that he desired to be just a commoner and not have to attend these dreadful parties, which were all the same anyway. Yet, he had to show his face, as was expected of him, and he needed to at least pretend to have an interest in girls or else his siblings would tease him about it for the rest of the cycle.

Fortunately, an escape presented itself in the disguise of duty. With so many nobles all concentrated in one place, the need for security was high, and Rafael had eagerly volunteered himself for the job. Being both of noble birth and a squire of the Iron Hand, put him in a somewhat unique position which lead him to be stationed near the entrance, to help identify the arriving nobility and weed out any potential imposters. Of course, he’d entirely failed to mention that he hardly knew all the nobles’ faces, and his task was only further complicated by the obligatory masks.

A thick, fur-lined cloak hugged his shoulders, making him seem broader than he was, while his trusty sword hung at his side. Each passing guest was subjected to a scrutinizing gaze, though most didn’t seem to notice it too much.

For the most part he recognized the names that were called out by the herald, and when he didn't he made a good effort to try and remember them. One such face belonged to a certain Xander Krome, whom he'd never heard about before, though he thought he recognized the man at Xander's side to be Alistair. They passed too quickly to be sure, and he didn't dwell on it much longer.

As the trills went by and the cold intensified, he was just starting to regret his choice to be on duty when a man with thick brown hair was called forward.

”Robek!”

Rafael tore his gaze from the previous guest who had been granted entry and examined Robek instead. The man stood out, both tall-wise and broad-wise, not to mention the peculiar wooden mask, which seemed too small for the man's face. Even after Robek had passed, Rafael kept his eyes firmly trained on the giant and watched him lumber into the building. He shot a questioning gaze at his commanding officer for the night and was met with a curt nod from the scarred veteran. Without a moment’s delay, Rafael chased after Robek with brisk footfalls and followed the man-giant inside.

For half a trill he was dazed by the wave of warmth and light that washed over him as he entered the ballroom. His throat tightened just at the sight of it. Gods, he was blessed that he wouldn't have to dance or pretend to like people who, in turn, would pretend to like him. It all seemed rather backward...

With a jolt he realized he'd lost sight of Robek. Fortunately, the man wasn't exactly hard to spot, and Rafael noticed him sat on a chair lined against a wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Strange. Whereas all other people mingled and socialized, this giant chose to seclude himself. Or perhaps he was waiting for someone? But if that were the case, why not wait near the entrance? No, there was something off about this fellow, and Rafael was determined to get to the bottom of it.

For a full trill he stood near the doors and watched the bear before he decided that it was far too hot to be wearing a cloak inside, and shed the thing with help from a friendly servant. Thus relieved, he made his way over to the line of chairs and positioned himself at the very end of it with his hands tucked neatly behind his back and his blade clearly visible at his side. While his eyes looked straight into the hall, occasionally they could be seen flicking over to Robek. He wanted the giant to know that his actions were being watched.

[Sintih]

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t some point in the past half season, this event had gone from a social chore Sin had agreed upon after being peer pressured into it by his former unit into an event he was actually looking forward to. Not that his opinion of the event itself had changed. It was still a gathering for the nobles who needed to show of their wealth and status and be reminded of their own ego. The fact that this event was organized by the kingdom and open for anyone only made it slightly better. Despite the invitation to the general public to attend, there were still restrictions. The dresscode was as such that nobody from lowtown would ever be able to attend it. Sin shook his head as he walked through the cold towards the entrance of the large building that was hosting the event. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the now of it all.

Sin pushed the mask to his face and held it in place with one hand while trying to get the band over his head and in place. Once he was all set, Sin looked up and shook his head, seeing if the mask was in place. While it wiggled a bit, it stayed where it was supposed to be. He could feel the weight of the mask resting on the bridge of his nose. How ironic, a Yludih pretending to be an Eídisi wearing a mask that supposedly depicted an Yludih. His broad grin was hidden under his mask as he walked towards the crowd gathered in front of the building. In a sense, the mask was done quite well, especially from the perspective of the Idalos races but in the end it looked like what someone thinks an Yludih looks like after hearing a story from someone else who saw the dead remains of one. It was definitely the look of a dead Yludih.

The entire mask was made from cloudy, white-silver colored pieces of glass, made to look like crystals that existed in Idalos. It covered the entire right side of his face as well around his left eye and a, seemingly, random part that stuck out to the left and covered his jaw as well. While around his eyes, the middle of his forehead, his nose and part covering his left jaw were all covered in pieces of glass that made it look like a mozaik of crystals, the part that covered the right most side of his face, cheek, jaw and mouth were covered in a single, larger piece of flat, rougher glass. While it looked nothing like what a Yludih truly looked like, Sin couldn't disagree with the artist's skill. The fact that there were only two of those masks in existence, or so the salesman had said, was the main reason Sin had bought it. Somewhere inside this big building was another Eídisi wearing the mirror of his mask.

There was a line of people waiting to head inside and Sin got in line. People moved through quickly and he slowly stepped closer. Once they were inside, a servant asked if he could take Sin's coat or cloak and the Eídisi gladly handed it over. He wouldn't have to hold onto it or keep it somewhere in sight during the event at least. He was given a smooth piece of wood with the number carved onto it that he could use to retrieve his belongings later on. He then moved through inspection, where guards asked for his weapon. Sin undid the belt that held up his shortsword and handed it over to the guard, who put it aside with a bunch of others. Unlike the cloak, there was no number this time. "Would you mind putting the sword with my cloak, please?" Sin asked as he held up the number the servant had given him before. He should have done so himself. The guard nodded and quickly handed the sword over to one of the many servants there.

When he walked up to the entrance, he passed several squires and knights positioned there for security. He even recognized some faces. Where did he know that short one from? Sin didn't think on it further as it was his turn to be announced. Another part of the event that he disliked. Why wasn't there an entrance for discreet people who didn't need their egos stroked or boots liked? He stepped up to the doormen and nodded. "Lord DuFromage, First of the Argent Island and bringer of the Radiant Dawn." Sin couldn't contain the amusement in his voice. It was the first thing that came to mind that sounded stupid enough and similar enough to what other nobles insisted on. Whether the doormen had any thoughts on the name or not couldn't be said. One simply turned and introduced him as Lord DuFromage as he walked in.

Some heads turned to face him and Sin let his eyes wander over the crowd. Yes, look at me, using a mask of my real identity to hide my fake one. Sin smiled as he walked further inside. There weren't many people here yet so it was still quite open. He could hear some people talking as they looked at him but he ignored it. As long as they didn't wear the same mask as him or if they took their masks of to reveal themselves as members of his old unit, Sin couldn't care less about them. All trumped up, useless nobles or wannabees. How many of these beautiful clothes and masks covered an ugly, greedy person underneath them? Sin let his eyes wander once more before focusing on the leftmost wall. Saeri would be waiting for him there and, if he was first, he'd wait for her there. That was the plan they'd come up with.

For several bits, Sin stood, looking around at the masked people around him. Some were alone like him, others were in group. There was talking and drinking all around him and people pushed masks aside every now and then to enjoy the bites of food that were being brought around. The servants were quite clearly dressed to attract attention. All in all, it was a major event with anyone who was anyone and many people who were nobodies gathered here. While it had been way too cold out in his outfit, in here, Sin felt like he was slowly melting. The combination of the many fires providing light and heat and the amount of people slowly increasing provided him with a warm enough environment, one he rarely found outside of Ymiden, Saun and early Vhalar.

With this many people gathered together, from almost all ways of life, Sin's outdated fashion choices went mostly unnoticed. Dressed in an outfit he'd worn only once before a season ago, Sin didn't feel as if he was standing out. A white shirt, covered partly by an olive colored waist coat covered his upper half while the bottom half was dressed in black pants and knee high leather boots. From the occasional glance he managed to catch, Sin was either horribly out of fashion or quite appealing to the eyes of the people around him. He wondered how Saeri would react to seeing him like this. It was highly unlike him to dress up, outside of occasions like this trial when he was forced to come. His answer came a few bits later.

He'd seen her before she spoke to him, her mask a perfect mirror of his and quite obvious in a crowd when you were looking for it. She was stunning. It took him several trills for his mind to accept that simple fact. While her face was hidden under the mask, her body was not. The dress she wore had obviously been designed just for her. The white was obviously a seasonal choice but the purple accents on the dress had been chosen simple to make her stand out even more. He barely registered that she'd said something to him, the mask hiding the movement of her lips and changing her voice a little. When she curtsied for him, his eyes wandered, for just a trill, to the accentuate part of the body the dress had been designed for. He managed to regain enough of himself to move his gaze up as she straightened up from her curtsy.

This time her words did reach him and Sin nodded slowly as he was still trying to get over the fact that the tough, down to Idalos, squire he had come to like over the past season was, in fact, a beautiful woman. "Euhh? What.... Oh, yeah, yes." Sin stumbled over his words as his eyes wandered over her upper body. For a few trills, he simply stared at her, mouth slightly open, hidden behind his mask. Then he managed to regain some of his composure. "You look... wow. Even with a university education I can't find the words for it. Wow." Father, what am I doing? Please help. Why did I say something like that, hmm? You couldn't have given me a better line? He cleared his throat, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking. "Did you have any trouble getting here?"

Sin turned his head away from her for just a moment. There were a few people looking in their direction, at them or past them Sin didn't know. He waved towards a servant who approached them with a tray of drinks. He grabbed a glass of fruit juice for himself once Saeri had chosen her drink and pushed the glass against his mask before he remembered it was in the way of anything he wanted to do with his mouth tonight. He pushed it forward with his thumb a little until he could fit the glass under it before taking a big gulp from it, letting the chilled drink cool him off from the inside. This is so not fair, Father. You always do this to me. Trying to catch me off guard like this. Although, I can't really say that I mind.

Once he felt he had regained a sliver of his composure he allowed himself to put the glass down and put his mask back in place. "It's true that I dislike wearing an attire like this but for you, I gladly make an exception." He smiled at her, his mouth hidden behind the mask and his white eyes showing no emotions. Realizing that she couldn't really see anything on his face unless he purposefully pulled a cheek muscle trying to laugh, Sin pushed his mask up with his thumb, showing his broad smile before pulling it back down.