• Event • Midwinter Masks (Moderated Thread)

[Olivia Warrick]

Cylus 13th, 717

“Ouch! Azure, that’s the third time!” Olivia Warrick exclaimed. She sat in the room of the inn that she and her faithful servant were staying in while visiting Andaris. Sitting on the bed, the young noble was dressed in the finest clothing she’d ever worn in her life. Her family had instructed her to dress her finest for this event- and so she did. Olivia wore a white ball gown- tight on the torso with a semi-sweetheart neckline, and coming down into a large skirt. The dress had exquisite gold lace detailing that must have cost a fortune. That and her heels, her gold earrings, her mask- which was sat beside her. Her mask was white with glittering gold detailing and a piece of white frill that stuck off it. Olivia Warrick had never been so disgusted with money in her life, considering everything she wore currently to be wasteful and unneeded.

Yet here she was. She was sitting and having her makeup applied by her servant- and friend- Azure. It was simple, the deep black eyeliner and eye paint Azure was putting on. But this was the third time Azure had poked a little too close to her eye, making the noble flinch back.

“Oh relax, you big sissy! I barely touched you. I’m almost done.” Azure was bold enough to say. If they had not known each other for quite a few years now, she may not have been comfortable to speak to her employer like that. “Hold still or I’ll poke you again.”

Olivia merely pouted, sighing, “It’ll be mostly hidden behind my mask anyone. No one will even care about my eyes.” She complained quietly, trying to stay still. Her eyes were currently a very calm blue, bright and alert.

As Azure finished the lining of her eyes, she spoke slowly, “The trick to eye painting… is to make sure you color… inside the lines. Annnddddd…. Done.” With a proud smile, she pulled away, reaching for the lip paint. Olivia sat as Azure dabbed her lips in red, finally finishing her face.

“Now let’s go!” Olivia hastily said as she stood, grabbing her mask. She moved to dash out the door, and Azure had to snatch her white shawl, following after her with a, “Wait!”

Within minutes, they were walking their way to the ball, Olivia’s shawl hanging from her arms, her mask securely on her face. As the great building came into view, Olivia’s eyes turned a shade of bright gold, matching the gold of her dress. Gold was her color for confident.

“Will you require me to stay, Lady Olivia?” Azure asked formally, giving a smile. She wore a decent but plain dress herself- nothing fit for a ball. Olivia quickly waved her off, “No, no. Go out somewhere, have some fun. I’ll find an escort back to the inn, and see you in the morning.” Olivia reassured her. Azure gave a little curtsy and left, walking back the way they came.

Moving forward to enter the ball, Olivia gladly took the party gift. Her hand fan was a beautiful white lace one, with embroidered golden roses- her favorite flower. It matched her dress, even, and Olivia gave a quiet thank you as she took it.



“Olivia Warrick.” She gave her name. She was checked for weapons- which she had none of- and lead into the main hall.

“Olivia Warrick of House Warrick- Daughter of Wren and Garrett Warrick!” Her name was cordially announced as she was allowed in. Olivia’s ballgown swished slightly with each step she made, her eyes wide and bright as she peered into the hall.

It had been a long time since she had attended such an event, and her smile was contagious. Catching a nearby servant, she took a glass of what looked to be a white wine, offering a quiet thanks as she sipped it. Her nails, painted gold to match her attire, tapped on the glass as she held it. The party was in full flow, and Olivia stood there a little lost, to be honest. She was sure some of her cousins would be present, perhaps even some nobles she knew. Her parents had told her to keep an eye out for Andraska Venora- the latest in a long line of potential suitors they wanted her to impress. Sipping her wine and waving her new fan lightly, Olivia didn’t see anyone who stood out to be a Venora. But, with the masks, who could really tell?

Her eyes were seeking another, as well. After hearing from him by letter, Olivia was eagerly searching the crowd for one Xander Krome. She had not seen her friend in nine arcs, but the second she received that letter, all had been forgiven. Yet the ball was a mess of suits, ballgowns and masks, and Olivia found herself blushing in embarrassment as she stood off to the side, unsure who to talk to or where to begin.

Common ✦ Draketh

[Leo]

Events could often be thought of as fun, and excellent methods of socialization. However, in the event that one intended to gather information about the nobles; The event became perfect for an opportunist such as Leo. With a deep hatred for royalty, and a passion for information inspired him to join the events, and he hardly possessed any “Formal” clothing. Under normal circumstances he would have never left home without his blade, but he was prepared in advance this time.

He approached the vicinity and watched as several other individuals entered while some were turned away due to their choice of clothing. Leo approached the building, and had been pestered with multiple questions that he typically would not bother to answer. As he looked forward he noticed how much of a peasant he looked like compared to the royal pigs; their clothing had intricate patterns, and was obviously more expensive than his own.

While Leo did not even bother to wear a tie, and while his clothing was acceptable it was hardly so. When he was asked whether or not he had a weapon, and examined for one he offered a smile. “Not this time.” He spoke in an arrogant tone as if he were a noble, and slid the strap attached to his mask over the back of his head.

While he fixed the front of the mask and let it come to rest upon his visage his concentration was broken by the final question. “What is your name?” the Man before him asked, and Leo answered hesitantly despite the fact that if he had not been required to answer he would have run off in an instant.

“My name is Leo, but I do not want you to announce such. “ Leo spoke in a soft tone, and carried on forward as the doors swung open. He had been given a Kerchief and carried on as if none of the previous “security features” even occurred. Unsurprisingly he quickly found out just how rich some of these people were; The women wore dresses that looked like they costed fortunes, and even some of the men obviously wore clothing too expensive to truly be functional. What would happen if a fight were to break out, and with those tight suits what could they do?

He sought out the nearest wall, and decided that he would stick as closely to it as possible. If he needed to speak with anyone he would, but for now his ultimate goal was simply not to draw attention to himself. These noble pigs were not worth the waste of time and effort it would require to make “friends” with. He sat back and observed only to notice that not a single familiar face had been among any of them of course because of the masks.

[Andráska Venora]

The Dashing Rogue

The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside us while we live. - Norman Cousins

• Andráska Venora laid stretched out in his family's carriage having ridden an excruciatingly long ride with his mother in which she informed him he was to be meeting someone tonight. No, not just someone... A girl.. Or, perhaps more fitting, a woman. Olivia Warrick.
  
  More importantly, his intended fiance.
  
  Not that it was set in stone. Ever since Alistair's debacle with Celeste Andaris, noble houses weren't exactly lining up to offer their daughters in fear of being publicly humiliated, and with Andráska's flippant attitude towards... well, almost everything up until late, it was a damned miracle he had even bothered to show up. In fact, no one had even known where he was a few days ago. He had just seemed to appear out of thin air, found asleep in his bed as if he had been there all along. Andras had given no explanation to his arrival, but it had only taken hours before he was being dragged out of bed and shipped off to a stuffy party. He wasn't thrilled about it, and his silent seething said as much. He should have stayed in Rharne.
  
  “Oh, Andráska, I believe you'll be so pleased,” his mother cooed, readjusting her white lace mask for the hundredth time, “The Warricks sent over a portrait. She's quite a lovely young woman. I think you'll like her.”
  
  “If you cared for what I liked, you wouldn't have brought me here.”
  
  “Don't be cross,” Willow scolded, smacking her son's knee lightly with the leather clutch in her gloved hand, “Perhaps if you were home you would have had a say in the matter.”
  
  Andras remained quiet, choosing to save his defiance for the actual event, wondering very briefly if there was a way he could utilize this to break up with Margery. The inside of his coat pocket began to shift and stir, and he sat forward, and pulled the white rose from his breast. Chirping trilled inside the carriage and a tiny head poked outwards from his torso where the flower had once been. A black head,covered in soft, black feathers peered around the small space, its cries getting more frantic as Andras reached into his pocket and produced a recycled matchbox. He pushed it open and held it up to his chest nonchalantly, feeling like an expert as the bird began to peck and eat a strange mash that sat where his matches once laid.
  
  His mother stared on, horrified, having had no idea he had... a living thing sleeping in his pocket. The carriage rolled to a stop and soon enough the door was opened by a servant and he was encouraged to exit the mode of transportation. In a better mood now, Pride lifted his head in between bites, peering around the room while his head cocked this way and that. Andras lifted a hand to shift the mask over and reveal his face – or the painted one beneath, and cooed at the tiny bird, clicking his tongue against his teeth to create a chattering and then a whistle. Pride seemed to recognize him and fluttered his tiny wings, and the noble dismissed the verbal criticisms from his mother.
  
  “You can't take that thing with you.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Its...” she seemed at a loss for words.
  
  “It's a fashion statement,” Andras countered, knowing very well his mask matched the tiny creature and kissed the avian on the head before shifting his face covering back fully and lifting his hand to the extended edges, allowing Pride to perch on them. Not wanting to defend his pet to his mother any longer, Andráska began to slither out of the carriage, “Come on, Ma, we're late,” he winked and climbed out the vehicle, and stretched like a cat in a windowsill. His tucked the rose back into his pocket of his black vest, about to walk off and then backtracked a step, holding out a hand for his mother who was descending from the carriage in a delicate outfit. She seemed happy with the small display of etiquette, and under his mask Andras smiled mischievously.
  
  They approached the doors, his mother clearing her throat, leaning forward to tell the announcer what she would like to be addressed as, leaving Andras to pick out a handkerchief for himself. The one he chose was black and red satin, and he liked the way it felt. He tucked it into his pocket, following shortly after. He cleared his throat, and retrieved a small note card to be read, handing it to the announcer who nodded.
  
  They began to descend into the room, and he heard the announcer take a deep breath, “May I present to you Lady Willow Venora, Duchess of House Venora and her youngest-” the announcer lifted the note up, “Andráska Venora, second son to Kaleb Venora, Knight of the Iron Hand, Mu... Musical Genius and...” there was a moment of hesitation, and Andráska's broad grin was thoroughly hidden, “Dashing Rogue.”
  
  Andraska began to chuckle, and he felt a sharp slap as a folding fan was smacked against his arm by his mother. He started to hum, tucking his hands into his pockets with a casual grace, and stepped into the main hall.
  

  Visual Aids

  
  Handkerchief

[Pegasus]

Timespan: 7pm ~ 7:30
(E.T.A: Three and a half breaks)

T

hey had arrived. The beautiful people, the ugly ones. They had come here as it was known they would and now they were all in the hall, mingling. He watched, hidden from sight and he did so with the aim of learning. Who could he trust, who must be observed more closely? All of these things were important to know. Especially for him, especially now.

And who was it that he saw, the silent watcher? One Xander Krome, arriving with Alistair Venora. That was an interesting alliance, he had no doubt. There were advantages to be gained on both sides, but would the young wolf fall prey to the sweet promises given by someone not known for keeping them? It would unfold, undoubtedly, and it would be interesting to see. Their silken kerchiefs, predetermined as they all were would be unique to them and would provide both men an opportunity ~ soon.

They were soon joined by the lady Rey'na. Ah, this one was interesting, he knew. She had spoken of her, the little birds of intelligence whispering always into Her ear. This Rey'na was part of something, although she was not yet aware of it. A seductress in satin and she used it well, she made her way to the Krome and Venora males. Was this another thing to report to Her? Maybe. Would it help or hinder Her plans, he wondered but no matter which. With a gesture, he assigned her status. As they spoke and she introduced herself, a servant came with drinks for them. Lady Rey'na had been given her fan, of course, made with a material as exquisite as she was. Just as Rey'na arrived it was in time to hear one of the noble women saying, quite openly "Well, I was told that you had abdicated from the house, Lord Venora," to Alistair. Not one of the members of the vassal families, nonetheless there was not the shock from them which might be expected. "Ran off to pursue... individual interests, I was told?" The woman in question let out a giggle and glanced at Xander, "I wouldn't have thought that was you, Lord Krome. What a turnout!"

All, it seemed, was not well in paradise.

Venora lineage again was next to approach and the silent watcher saw Tristan Venora arrive. A smile graced the observer's usually dour lips. He, too, was important in Her plans and equally unaware. When he asked, he was given a fan and the serving girl who did so dropped him a curtsy and looked at him beneath her lashes with an expression which left little to the imagination. As she handed him the fan, her fingers brushed against his and she smiled at him with promise. Good. They were doing as instructed, and doing it well. In terms of his first victim? There were a number of beautiful young women there, many of whom turned to look at the enigmatic man who hadn't been announced. In that single act he had become an enigma.

He had his pick.

The next one in, Robek he called himself, he was an interesting one. He came in, he observed and then he moved to the side. Sitting there, one of the servants came over and offered him a drink. She complimented on his mask and told him she thought it was the cutest mask she'd seen. Then, in quite a forward gesture for a servant, she leant forward and whispered in his ear, told him that he should mingle and pretend to be someone he wasn't. That was the point of it, wasn't it? She pointed to the next person through the door, this chap Woe and she whispered to Fridgar "Why don't you go and find out who he is? You never know, you might be glad you did!"

As Saeri LaChasse entered, she had a feeling of being watched and she was, of course, correct. But then, they were all being watched, weren't they? However, she sensed it more, perhaps, than others. Or maybe she spotted the young Rafael Warrick who was working that evening and seemed to be paying a lot of attention to one of the guests in particular. He would be useful, the watcher thought, such a young man filled with doubt and idealism. Would he do what was hoped? Oh it was all just beginning. But Lady LaChasse found her friend and the two of them had a chuckle together. The one who watched knew all about the young man Lady LaChasse was talking to and he was intriguing

His attention was so focused on Sintih and his plans for the ambitious male that he almost missed Olivia Warrick. A pretty little thing who might be more use than she knew in the coming seasons. She looked every inch the coy and shy little noble girl, but he who watched them all knew better, or believed he did. She was playing the game just like every other and each one of them was sizing up who was predator and who was prey. Which would she choose to be, he wondered. It would be fun to watch and important to report.

The next one in was not known to the silent watcher and that made him intriguing. Poor clothes and worse graces soon became apparent but, one never knew for sure when faced with uncertainty and so the watcher dispatched the appropriate resources with a casual flick of his wrist. Certainly, She would want to know every movement and step. The kerchief given to Leo was very important, that being the case. Very important indeed. As the first of his resources reported back, the silent watcher smiled. Yes, that worked. That worked very well indeed. Soon, all would be laid open and that was how She needed it to be.

And then, finally, the last one that he had been looking for. The final Venora piece of the puzzle. Andraska was here and the silent watcher leaned forward in interest. He had just returned from Rharne, where his movements had been reported as interesting. But now, he was here and he was the last one ~ it was fitting that he called himself a musical genius, as far as their plans were concerned he was an instrument to be played, to produce the right notes with the right people at the right time. Judging by the fact that he was here, he was already beginning to do so.

Music played and drink flowed. Beautiful people moved together and talked, laughing and discussing things of no importance or great relevance. Servants moved amongst them, discrete and just part of the furniture. For the first half a break, the Ball was really just getting underway. Yes. It was all in place and as the doors to the manor house where the Midwinter Ball was taking placed closed to new guests, as they were locked tightly shut, the silent watcher smiled and sat back in his chair.

Off Topic

And everybody's at the party! Huzzah! Please adhere to the following rules:
1. At the moment, one post only per person between modposts.
2. There is not a posting order
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. These will be announced next post and are dependent on actions in your first and next post.
5. I will post here again on Tuesday 28th February
6. Please, no placeholders. If you miss a round, you miss it.
7. This is a chance for you to mingle with those in the Ball. It may be your last one for an hour or two. If you wish to, therefore, you may split your post into no more than two sections, where you mingle with first one lot, then another. If you wish it.
8. Please note the time frame. You have half an hour to play with. No more.
9. If you're interacting with an npc and need any help / want someone to play them, drop me a pm!

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

Please note: This thread is currently CLOSED to new pcs.

[Varthakh]

Not much was happening, mostly since he hadn't seen the guard glaring him daggers. He'd almost slipped into a daydream before a servant approached and offered a drink "Thanks!" he spoke with a polite smile. People didn't give him drinks often, for good reason. Being offered one was genuinely pleasant! Not enough to fix the already ruined night, but pleasant all the same, he held the glass as she spoke. "Cute?" he asked, confused before shaking his head. The poor girl probably hasn't seen a bear up close before, only those rubbish teddy bears. She might very well get to see a bear up close very soon.

"Uhh, someone I'm not?" he asked, not at all bothered by the apparent forward gesture. Fridgar didn't meet too many formal folk, this was learning on the go. He looked to where she pointed, to some prissy posh prick. "...Seriously?" he spoke without looking to her. "I don't think-" he stopped himself as he turned back to the servant, only to find that she was gone. He looked about quickly, bewildered before shrugging and looking to the drink he'd been given. he normally would have slugged it without a second thought, but he was on duty. He put the glass down on the floor gently before a thought came to mind - Ilaren. She'd probably be pissed if he wasted any drink, that is, if she'd noticed him at all since the night at the tavern. With a sigh, he picked up the drink once more and spoke "To Ilaren." raising the glass in a one-person toast before knocking the whole thing back.

He wiped his mouth in his sleeve before standing up and thinking to himself, forgetting his duties completely. Who would he pretend to be? This didn't sound like a bad idea, in fairness to the maid girl. Perhaps a lame man? A scholar? No, he had his pick. He would pretend to be one of the prissy posh pricks that wipe their behinds with satin. Nothing bad could come from this decision. He cleared his throat and looked to the man that the woman had assigned him to talk to. Using his echo ability, he assumed the sense of smell of the wolf along with the hearing of a cat, he didn't need the eagle vision for now as he was only passively gathering information for now. Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhale - painting a picture of the room in his head.

Without regard for the others that were announced, Fridgar turned and made his approach to Woe. He straightened up his posture as he did so and passed Rafael, completely oblivious that he'd been watching him. He stopped himself, feet from Woe's side. What did noble people even talk about? 'hnnNNNNNN!!!! GOOD MORROW, HOW GOES THE EVENING MISTER MONEYBAGS? DID YOU HAPPEN TO DEFECATE ON THE POOR ON YOUR WAY IN? ME TOO!!!' rampaged the voice in his head as he closed the gap and spoke "Hi, how's it going?".

He maintained his sense of hearing on the crowd, listening in on people’s conversations from across the room. He could hear Sintih's voice along with Rey'na's, A noble he'd once met in the tavern too - was his name Tristan? The voice of someone who'd once arrested him, though couldn't remember why. And one above all stood out, the mouthy male that had saved him and Rey'na out in the woods from a mortal born - he was somewhere in the room, a powerful mage. He would need to be careful about unleashing here, after all.

"I like your mask, you have quite the exquisite taste." He spoke with his hands behind his back, exaggerating the pronunciation of some words, like 'exquisite'. Who even used the word 'exquisite'? "I didn't quite catch your name as you came in, It's Robek, by the way." he spoke with a nod and polite smile.

[Woe]

Woe was greeted by a rush of warmth as he entered the main hall. This place, it was huge! To keep it this warm, he thought they must have had to play out a coal shaft, and then use a small forest for kindling. Not that he held it against the nobles. If they could live like they could, then they ought to. It was something to aspire to, as anything. And the nobles themselves? Just another kind of beast to be negotiated with, like a bear, a serpent, raptor or wolf. A spider only got by on not getting noticed.

He quickly took off his cloak and allowed a servant to take it, knowing that he'd probably be sweating anyway with the gambeson and the layers he was wearing. What a waste. I should've worn my washday clothes for this dullness.

Hoping that none of the nobles noticed him, he took up a place at the edge of the room. Yet another wallflower to decorate the corners of the great hall. A wilted and older variety, granted, and one dressed in leather instead of wool and satin. He thought the clothes he'd gotten for this affair were the best he'd ever see, then he saw what the next poorest sod in the room was wearing and felt like he might as well throw down the handkerchief they'd given him and give up the charade.

It certainly took some of the fun out of it. What was worse, it looked like another of the nobles noticed him, this one a large man behind a bear mask. If he knew him, he couldn't recognize his features behind even the small mask, especially given the difference in dress. And he didn't recognize the voice. Not that he expected to find any people he normally associated with trolling about here, but he had hoped there would be servants to talk to, to share secrets with perhaps.

"Hello, Robek." Woe said. The man mentioned he hadn't caught his name. He was going to make something up, but at the last moment decided he wasn't in the mood to play games, and gave his real 'name' if it could be called a name. "I'm Woe, nice to meet you." He held out his gloved hand to shake.

He turned from the man back toward the ball, shrugging as he watched the people having a good time. "So, um, the mask? Oh yeah, boiled leather. Set me back a few nels." Woe was at a loss for casual conversation. Usually he opened by introducing his trade. Slaver wasn't a particularly respected profession even among the highborn, so he left that out for the one that he felt was respectable and necessary, if unsavory to these high-rollers. "I'm a jailer apprentice." If he was lucky, maybe that would scare this nobleman away from him.

[Olivia Warrick]

Cylus 13th, 717

Olivia stood, sipping her wine quietly, watching the crowd with her golden eyes. She had seen many people announced- including Alistair Venora, the brother of the man she was supposed to be potentially betrothed to. She had even thought to hear Xander’s name, but the crowd had been so loud she couldn’t have been certain, and she’d missed sight of him. The ballroom was packed with beautiful people. There were a few familiar forms- and many not so familiar. Many of them she took an educated guess at. For instance, her eyes caught on a man with a sword. A boy, some more ignorant people might say, for she knew him to be only fifteen years of age. Her cousin was unmistakable, standing stiff as he was. While Rafael and her weren’t close in age and therefore hadn’t spent much time together in the past, she had been informed by her mother that he would be in attendance, and he was not hard to spot. He was the only one present with a weapon, for he was working the event. Work or no, he looks terribly rigid. Poor Rafael. He really should learn to have more fun. While she dared not call out to him while across the room, Olivia raised her hand in a quick, short wave. Though she had no idea if he had seen- he seemed awfully intent on whomever he was staring at.

Changing her focus, she could spot two Eidisi talking near a wall. They seemed rather cozy with each other, and Olivia watched the male of the two lift his mask just briefly enough to show a smile to the woman. Oh, how sweet! She couldn’t help but think. Yet she also noticed that the male, who was tall and lanky, had skin quite pale for an Eidisi. Weren’t they usually a deeper shade of periwinkle? Dear, I hope he’s well. Perhaps, should our paths cross, I should inquire about if he’s seen a healer.

Olivia’s eyes were then drawn to another familiar man- one black of hair, in simple clothes but with a black mask. Clearly not a noble, though she would have known this without studying him. It was Woe! She smiled as she saw him, recognizing the terse male from their mishap with a snake and a Lothar, not so long ago. I really should go say hello. She realized. Setting her half-drank glass down on a nearby waiter’s tray, Olivia gathered the skirt of her dress, beginning to cross the room towards Woe.

Unfortunately, she never made it to him. Instead, she froze as her eyes caught on two individuals in particular. Two tall men, standing among nobles. One of which had a small mask and an unmistakable jawline. When she was little, Olivia remembered once telling Xander that his jaw looked goofy- as if it had been drawn with a particularly swirly ink pen. If I was a betting girl… I’d bet that’s him!

Changing course from Woe to Xander, Olivia approached behind the group of nobles, clearing her throat to announce her presence. “Excuse me… Xander Krome?”

As he turned, Olivia looked right up into his eyes, her expression melting into the sweetest smile. It was him. It took all her willpower not to give him a hug- but her mother would have killed her for hugging a man in public that wasn’t her betrothed. ”It’s all about what people think!” would be something Olivia could imagine her mother saying.

Instead of hugging him, Olivia dropped into a shaky curtsy- she rarely ever curtsied for anyone, despite knowing how to. “It’s been too long! You look so… dashing! How did Little Xan Xan Krome grow into such a hunk?” Olivia teasingly she, her smile wide and her eyes temporarily shifting into a bright, happy pink.

Olivia’s eyes drifted from Xander to the man who stood closest to him- Alistair Venora. Olivia gave him a smile as well, studying the intricate gold of his mask. “Ah hello. I don’t presume we’ve met- but if I had to guess, you’re Alistair Venora. Only a Venora would be so impeccably well dressed. That… and I may or may not have glanced your way when they announced your name. I’m Olivia Warrick. Pleasure to meet you.”

As she greeted him, Olivia was aware of the announcer’s voice.

”Andráska Venora, second son to Kaleb Venora, Knight of the Iron Hand, Mu... Musical Genius and… Dashing Rogue.”

Olivia had to lift a hand to her nose to stop herself from snorting. That poor announcer must be mortified. I wonder if he really is a musical genius… or dashing, for that matter. Rumours of nobles often aren’t all what they seem to be. Thus the reason they’re called rumours. Olivia thought, turning her head towards the entrance. She couldn’t get a good look from here, though.

Her heart panged as she realized she’d have no time to chat with her friend. At least, not now. “Ah… Andraska’s arrived… I’m so sorry, Xander, but I’ve got to go. I’ll explain later.” Leaning up, she pressed a light, friendly kiss to his cheek, before murmuring, “Save me a dance, okay?” She hoped she’d have time for that dance. After all, she had missed eight arcs with her best friend- they had a lot to catch up on.

“That brother of yours, he sure knows how to make an entrance.” Olivia teasing commented to Alistair. Curtsying to them both once more, she excused herself, making her way towards the entrance.

When she had sight of the entrance, the first person she saw entering was a very handsome man. Tall, with the most intricate metal mask depicting birds. Truly, it was a fascinating look, and she could have sworn she saw what looked to be face paint peeking out behind the mask. And I thought Azure’s eye makeup was bad. Olivia thought, unsure if she’d be able to sit still enough to let someone paint her whole face.

Gathering her confidence, her eyes a bright gold, Olivia approached him. Yet, she found the rebel in her not wishing to curtsy. This proposed marriage their parents were pushing for was a business deal, yes? Not unlike being sold to the highest bidder. Only, I doubt this complete stranger placed any such bid. I wonder if he even wants marriage, or if he’s being spoken for, too.

Olivia thought on this as she held out a formal hand to him, giving her best smile as she stood in front of him in her beautiful formal attire. “Andraska? Olivia Warrick. I believe our parents have been planning how many kids we’re to have, what their names shall be, and who they will worship- religion wise.” Her tone showed the amusement of this quip. I wonder if the thought frightens him, though.

Glancing to Andraska’s mother, Olivia spared a polite smile, before her gaze returned to Andraska. As he released her hand, she gestured to the ballroom floor. “Shall we have a dance? It’s only proper to have as least one before I get told what the date of our wedding is. Knowing my mother, it’ll be in Saun, like every noble’s.” Such a droll tradition. Whatever is wrong with Ashan? Or Ymiden? Olivia was having quite a bit of fun with this, trying not to make it so formal and boring. If she was to be meeting her potential husband, the least she could do is check to see if he’s as stuffy as most nobles- or if he actually has a sense of humor.

Common ✦ Draketh

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan watched the other guests with unmistakable curiosity. He found it especially interesting that Alistair and a certain Krome had arrived together, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Xander was his cousin’s new boyfriend. He had suspected that Alistair preferred his own sex since that trial in Sabaissant when he had talked to Daliane Andaris in the library. He’d thought that Alistair would go for somebody a little more powerful though. As far as he knew, Xander only came from a secondary branch of the family.

Then there was Lady Rey’na who he was pretty sure he had met before despite the fact that her face was currently hidden behind the mask. And András! He grinned as his cousin came in, but as they called him a dashing rogue his gaze darkened again. That was supposed to be one of his titles! A moment later he remembered that he currently looked kind of like the king though. Being the king was much better than being a dashing rogue!

He took a sip from his glass as he let his gaze sweep over the guests, especially the female ones. He enjoyed the attention he was getting. Every time somebody looked at him, he flashed them an enigmatic smile. He could practically hear what they were thinking. Who was this mysterious man, this handsome, handsome man with his golden mask that had arrived in such a luxurious carriage and that wore clothes that had probably cost more than some earned in a season?

He was just about to approach one of the numerous noble ladies – at least he suspected they were noble ladies judging by their manners and the way they were dressed – but then he realized that that was probably what people expected of him.

Everybody expected a man whose hair was exactly the same color as the king’s to seek the company of the rich and powerful. He wanted to do something scandalous, something that people would talk about. Besides, he realized, the noble ladies were probably all dull and stuffy anyway.

He remembered how the serving girl had looked at him and how her fingers had brushed against his and made a decision. As soon as she was done serving, he approached her, bowed slightly and asked her, in a voice that hopefully sounded at least halfway like Cassander’s (changing your voice was much harder than changing your appearance!), “Would you do me the honor and dance with me, my lady?”

[Xander Andaris]

Xander was quickly whisked away by Alistair upon entry, pulled quite gracefully over to a group of nobles. He smiled to the three of them, a man and two women, he of course did not recognise them. He had forgotten just how many nobles there really were, not only were there the main seven there were also many smaller noble houses. These houses held positions as counts and other such lower level noble titles. They were, however, just as important to a man seeking power as the bigger houses. After all, they did provide the main houses with their economic support as well as military man power.

Alistair introduced Xander to the three nobles before him. Lady Lyanna Solange and Reimen Solange both appeared to be friendly enough and the lady Reimen seemed more than well acquainted to Venoran Lord. Xander raised an eyebrow curiously at her use of his name so informally, Ali. Clearly there was something there that he had missed, something in Alistair's past that could explain this very informal exchange. Baron Nielsen of House Angelreim on the other hand seemed much quieter that the women, although that was often the way at these gatherings.

"A pleasure to meet you all." He said as he bowed his head in respect to the three of them. This simple greeting, however, seemed to not be enough. Alistair introduced him by name, speaking words of his good outward and inner appearance. It was amusing to Xander as he doubted they would agree if they knew about his revolutionary thoughts. He took Lady Lyanna's hand as it was offered to him and raised it to his lips kissing it softly as he had once been shown as a child. It had been expected for him to learn about etiquette and although he was raised by a butler he had been taught the basics. Not to mention observation worked just as well as a tutor sometimes.

He smiled back at her as he released her hand again gently not to let it fall. "The pleasure is all mine my Lady. We have travelled an awful long way so you must forgive me if I appear a little exhausted." Half of his lip curled into a smile as he looked over the three nobles again, memorising their names and connecting them with the masked faces. These masks would certainly make it difficult when the time came to meet them without the obscurity. "I am surprised to hear that news of mine and Alistair's meeting and new found friendship has reached Andaris already. I suppose the saying is true after all, good news does travel fast." He let out a soft laugh as he stepped back again returning to Alistair's side, hoping the man could help to keep the conversation flowing. He had no knowledge in textiles and worried that if it were somehow to surface in conversation he would make a fool of himself.

Xander was a little surprised and threw a glance in Alistair's Direction when another Lady he did not know, came out with the statement that she believed Alistair had stepped down from his position as a Lord of Venora and left to pursuit of something personal. It was certainly clear she believed that to be some kind of forbidden romantic interest. Xander was in fact insulted by the woman's next comment, had she been a man he might even have hit him. However, under the circumstances he just let out a laugh he believed to clearly dismiss that idea. "I think you misunderstand the nature of our friendship my Lady. I would have you kn..." His voice trailed off as he turned to face where his name had come from. "Please do excuse me." He said bowing as he stepped to the side a little to face her, the girl he had not seen for 8 arcs.

He almost hugged her but as she showed no sign of doing so he refrained. He also knew that it would appear unprofessional and he needed to keep up good manners. He had not seen her for so long and part of him was overjoyed to see her. The other part was less happy, the memories of his childhood threatened to burst out of their cage, to free themselves from the layers of his mind the ideals he had used to suppress them. In the end he managed to keep them suppressed the memories of his sister that Olivia brought back pressed back below the many layers. He had no been surprised to see she had grown up and was a pretty young woman, and he had not been surprised at his reaction to seeing her either.

"Lady Olivia, I am gad to see you again, it has been too long. I would like..." he was cut off by the sound of Andráska Venora being announced in what Xander thought to be a rather childish manner. He was glad to see Olivia also hadn't lost her sense of humour thought with how she described him as a hunk. Olivia quickly greeted Alistair and with a quick soft kiss to Xander cheek left him with only a fleeting whisper, to save a dance for her. He had never expected her to be with a man like Andráska Venora, yet, he had not see her for a long time he could not judge her, even if she was dressed on the most expensive looking dress he had ever seen. He watched her for a few trills as she left him but instead of dwelling on the short conversation he pushed it to the back of his mind and again spoke to the nobles around him.

It appeared another woman had now joined the group, she had introduced herself as Rey'na. He greeted the young woman with a smile and took her hand to kiss it if she allowed him. "Lord Xander, happy to meet you my Lady." She was certainly attractive and although he had little interest in romance or love he still noticed those who were attractive. Xander sipped his own glass of champagne, he had to admit it was not his first choice of drink but it would suffice. He did not wish to get drunk anyway, it was important to keep your wits about you in such places. A place busy with nobles could be a target for many things, assassination, mass murder or even a declaration of war. So he would remain sober and observant. He would continue to listen to the conversation between the small group allowing Alistair to lead as he would listen and nod taking in all the information he could.

What came next was up to Alistair, he left the choice to him he was the more experienced with such events. That made it the logical decision to leave him in charge, he also knew most of the important people and if Xander wanted to meet them he would need Alistair's assistance in finding them. However, first he would pursue a quick dance, why not take some time to relax before getting right into the business. He knew little of dancing but he knew that he needed a woman to do it. His first task would be finding this woman and after the discussion was finished and a new song began taking her to dance.

"Lady Rey'na, would you do me the pleasure of being my dance partner for this next song. I have an urge to enjoy the music and why not do so in the company of another." He smiled a relaxed and enticing smile, his handsome features showed well when he smiled. His tone was also seductive, a warm and inviting voice the one that he had known to attract women in the past when he was younger and more recently and accidentally Alistair. If she would agree to be his partner for a short time he would politely excuse himself and then offer her his arm and lead her over to the dance floor.

[Alistair]

He'd heard his brother and mother be announced, though his brows rose when he heard the Lady Willow - his mother - be referred to as the Duchess of Venora. No way, he told himself. There's no way Ebony has stepped down. It's been too short a period. Immediately, his mind began to race with thoughts, though he was of course expected to be civil and proper in the face of all of these other nobles. He calmed himself, and decided he would approach Andraska and Willow directly at a later time. Soon. Until then, his eyes returned to his immediate surroundings.

When his eyes did return, he saw something amiss. Incredibly amiss. His head almost pulled back in relent, and his eyes widened a bit, though concealed entirely by the texture of his mask. Rey'na, she called herself. So that was her name? Rey'na? Why was she here in this place, of all times? She was an agent of Lisirra. That was not... that was not a comfortable thought. Alistair did not wish to have to spend the entirety of his night attempting to quarantine the ball, and cut off the spread of the plague. He had the skill to do so, but not the patience for any crude antics by the lackey of some malevolent Immortal.

As Rey'na fully approached and introduced herself, Alistair did the same, though for a purpose. "Alistair," he responded. "I'm charmed, Lady Rey'na," he said, leaning in to offer her a kiss on the cheek, as was appropriate for a Venora in meeting a new Lady or Lord. As he moved in however, and landed the kiss against the soft skin of her cheek, she would hear a powerful whisper in her ear.

"If you do something foolish, plague-bearer, you will be eviscerated."

As he pulled away, she would notice his usually nebulous eyes light up a fiery orange, as if Syroa's energy was flowing through him. He could already begin to feel the Fury -- the rage at the thought of some deranged tyke attempting to derail this event. It was the first time he'd felt truly in his element in quite a long period. Nothing would prevent him from enjoying this night, even if his enjoyment would have to arrive in the form of dismembering a black-haired woman named Rey'na.

He turned away from her, as if he were no longer interested, though he kept view of the Lady in his peripheral.

Shortly after, another Lady approached him, speaking crudely -- enough to remind him of why he'd left home in the first place. "No, Lady no-name, of your greatly irrelevant House... I did not abdicate, nor have I been pursuing individual interests. I have been working tirelessly in these past few seasons to expand upon my mind and body in a way that would have me befitting of my future position. And just so you know, my tireless exertion did not include a roll in the hay with Lord Krome. He and I are friends. I apologize for your lewd imagination." With those words loosed from his mouth, the nobleman found himself smirking at the trollop before him. Lady Lyanna joined words on Alistair's side, proving herself as a loyal vassal and ally.

"My dear Lady, you should not profess such fantasies in public. I know the attraction a young lady can have towards the concept of two men in the flames of passion, going so far as to abandon their duties in the moment, but it is very improper to ventilate these desires so outwardly. There is an etiquette school in Masienne, where my family rules. Perhaps you should attend?"

Of course, as always, the nobles of the Duchy of Venora were exceptionally fierce. Alistair found himself wishing for the attendance of Marlon Languedoc, to really remind girls like this of why they should rather mess with a witless house such as Andaris, whose heir would very likely just punch such commenters in the face rather than outwit them into humiliation.

When Olivia Warrick approached them, Alistair bowed his head and waved to the Lady, though gave her little more attention than that, as she'd approached mostly to speak to Lord Xander. "A pleasure, Lady Warrick," he said. Olivia would likely know that Alistair's grandfather was a Warrick, which meant that the man had always considered himself closely aligned to the neighboring House. It was, as such, a pleasure to meet one of their kin -- though his attentions were divided. Knowing that Rey'na was here, he wondered also if her compatriot from before had decided to... grace the ball with his presence. His eyes scanned the room, searching intently for the man who'd made himself known to Alistair once before.

And there he was, in the distance, approaching some black haired individual. Alistair looked to Xander, and excused himself. "I'll be back momentarily," he said, waving to the Ladies of Solange and the Lord of House Angelreim.

Closing in on the tall man with the mask of a bear, Alistair met him face-to-face and gleamed.

Neither of the men he'd trailed off towards were noblemen, but either of them could satiate his curiosity, their names flowing from their lips directly as he'd arrived in their vicinity.

"Robek and Woe," the nobleman called their names. "I am Lord Alistair of House Venora, First of My Name. It appears your Lady Rey'na -- Robek -- has elected to dance with my companion now that she's arrived. Would you thus do me the honor of dancing with me, in equal fashion? I promise I won't bring shame on shame you -- you can even treat me as the Lady of the dance." The man's eyes narrowed as a smirk grew on his lips. This was his opportunity to learn of their intentions for being here, as from what he imagined, Robek was likely the less intelligent of the two. Even if they revealed nothing, he could keep his eyes closely on them. There would be no Lisirra visiting this night, no. Not unless the presence of her . . . apostle could benefit the mage, in direct fashion.