Party like a Dortman (Samheen 30th ET)

[Grey Wolf]

While Dort Embassy looked opulent every day, that evening it was simply magnificent. Duke Erwin was reputedly the richest man alive, but if anyone doubted that before, here was all the proof they needed. A thousand candles lined the fence each burning despite the slight breeze coming from the ocean, the Embassy walls shining in the candlelight, every single one of them scrubbed back to their original color. A line of six soldiers, each dressed in dark brown tabard, starburst stitched upon their chests, stitched in gold thread, with an image of a coin, Duke's head upon it, in the middle of the sun. Midnight blue cloaks rested on their shoulders, secured at their shoulders with coin-shaped clasps.

A pair of statues flanked the main doors, light spilling out through frame, Duke's own statue clearly visible from the street. Where that one was made from marble, the two before the door were carved from ice, light reflecting across their surface in a rainbow of colors. To the right two figures stood, Ulder and Elaine side by side, arms reaching to the other, their hands clasped together. To the left the rest of demon hunters stood, every figure carved with remarkable attention to detail, as tall as they were in reality. Valsert stood near the front, thin transparent sword in his hand. Elvin and Corbin stood at his sides, with Jolanda further to the back, her legs hidden by Mentor's robe. Becca and Morgan almost hid behind her, their shoulder together, both figures carved from single piece of ice. To the right stood, and behind Corbin stood Talanwei, with Zimphander and the rest of the Purple Guards with him. Ashari and Aeris were there as well, side by side, close to Becca and her fellow student. And behind them all, loomed Fauna her chin held imperiously up, Barrett at her side, his eyes closed in contemplation.

Thavia was stationed near the door, the buxom lady looking resplendent in the sapphire blue dress she wore. Her hair was held up by an array of pins, and with her waist thinned by a midnight blue corset, she looked even bustier than she normally was. A brilliant smile was upon her lips, diamond earrings dangling from her ears. "Good evening. Welcome to the party. May I have you name please?" Music wafted from somewhere in the back, as Thavia greeted the incoming guests.

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin had arrived early for this particular occasion. When he had found the invitation he had not wanted to go at first, preferring it to simply fade to the background, but the need to get powerful friends in the Citadel to help with the current problems had finally convinced him that attending this party might be a good idea.

A while ago the Mentor had asked someone to make him a new robe according to his instructions and it had turned out rather nicely and tonight was the first occasion to wear it.

Clad in grey silk that almost looked like silver the sorcerer made his appearance. It wasn't the silk that had attracted the mage to this particular robe, frankly he didn't care much for silk, but it's particular colour, a grey that almost resembled silver had attracted him. Silver was his favourite colour after all...

Elvin flushed when he caught sight of the sculptures. He disliked being the centre of attention and had hoped that he could inconspiciously blend in with the others but this icy statue shattered that hope. He studied it for a few flickers. "It is remarkably accurate... I wonder who has been observing me or who was kind enough to conjure up illusions to work from..."

He looked at the other statues and a smile played around his lips when he saw the statue of Elaine and Ulder. "This will certainly draw attention away from me and it'll draw more attention to those who truly deserve it." With an effort of will he manipulated the air around the statue of Elaine and Ulder, creating a soft nimbus of white light that seemed to emanate from within the sculpture.

"Much better," the Mentor smiled as he inspected his handiwork. He turned to Thavia and politely bowed: "The Mentor Elvin Motricé at your disposal, my lady."

[Talanwei Fortisse]

The young Achadiel had arrived shortly on the heels of Elvin’s appearance. He had been so excited for the sheer honor of being recognized for something he felt anyone would (or should) have felt was their duty. He was overjoyed to see the mentor before him. The two had not spoken a great deal but he was gladdened that they had a bond of sorts through battling together. Talanwei followed the gaze of the older Adhiel to the statues that had been carved in their likeness. Before his eyes a soft light began to emanate around both Ulder and Elaine. It was simple but even the small manipulation of the Aether was awe inspiring to the aspirant. Someday he would perhaps be able to do similar things but he did not worry overmuch of these things this eveningtide.

Talanwei was dressed in a pair of leather breeches that were a deep black. His shirt was the color of a clear sky in Jygust. The new jerkin he had purchased just for this occasion was a dark brown and had the stiffness of a new garment. Its rigidness stopped him from being overly comfortable in these opulent surroundings. His boots were well polished and a shade lighter than his new jerkin but were much more comfortable. The Achadiel had taken painstaking care with preparation so he let down his hair instead of tying it back. Still, he had been overexcited when he was traveling to the Dort Embassy and seeing Elvin had grounded him somewhat. He sidled up behind the magus. For perhaps the first time, Talanwei realized how much taller he was than a normal full blooded Adhiel. He took acute notice of the woman that was posted at the door. She was perhaps even more buxomly built than Fauna and was striking in an almost aggressive way. However her demeanor was sunny and quite friendly as she greeted them.

"Namaste, Elvin!" said Talanwei after the older man had spoken to Thavia, "It is good to see a familiar face this eveningtide. These ornate surroundings nearly overwhelmed me!"

Talanwei’s gaze turned to Thavia to whom he bowed respectfully. When he righted himself, he flashed a charming smile and introduced himself, "and I am Talanwei Fortisse. It is indeed a pleasure."

[Grey Wolf]

Elvin could feel the eyes of the guards upon his back as he came closer, and even though he cast a spell and was quite obvious about it, none moved to interrupt him. Unfortunately for him, his attempt to conjure a nimbus of light around Ulder and Elaine failed, or rather the energy he expanded in the spell was used for a different purpose. The light hung around the statues for a flicker and the dissipated, a slight wave of cold washing over the Mentor's skin. It was magick that kept the statues whole and his own spell was used to strengthen it and to make the Captain's and bard's features even more clear.

Thavia's smile made it evident that no introductions were necessary, the Embassy greeter stepping forward and bowing lightly to both heroes in turn. "OH, but I know who you are. Welcome to the party Master Elvin. And you Master Talanwei. We have been expecting you." A slight look to the side and a soldier, dressed similarly to those posted outside, but with a sword upon his belt instead of a spear in hand. "Please, step right through to our guest area." The soldier stood at attention waiting for them to turn before leading them through wide open doors and down a passage. Their journey ended soon, as they emerged into the Embassy garden.

Few people outside of the Embassy ever saw it, the high walls surrounding it shielding it from curious eyes. An area of about twenty by fifty paces was curiously not flat. To those insightful enough it looked quite like Dort grasslands did, slow rolling hills, giving way to a small forest. The far right corner was indeed wooded, though a dozen or so trees that grew there could hardly be called a forest. To the left a long table was set, a variety of drinks and food being offered for sampling, a liveried servant standing next to it, every few feet. There was really no need for the guests to fetch their own drinks and food when someone could do it for them.

To the right, shielded by a set of linen sheets, a group of musicians played a merry tune, only their shadows visible through the curtain that hid them. Amongst the trees light danced, and dancers frolicked at their bases, all of them young and smiling. Duke Erwin had hired the Bardic College for this occasion, preferring their eagerness to the skill of professional musicians. Soft laughter sounded from under the trees, as dancers appeared to truly enjoy the performance they gave.

It was quite early yet, though a few small clusters of guests were already there. Duke Erwin stood close to the entrance, a towering form of his wife K'Mith at his side, the pregnant half-giantess still cutting a fine figure in her dress the color of late autumn. She was smiling and even chuckled at something a man they both conversed with said, a chair brought for him due to his obviously injured leg. Further down a most unlikely pair stood, or perhaps it was a mistake to say so. The lady of proud bearing, her hair the color of straw, dressed in simple white robe, stood in deep conversation with a most peculiar looking dwarf. Dressed in a custom fit suit, his hair and beard were groomed impeccably, and the low bass of his voice could be detected even though they were moving away from the door, making a slow circle of the yard.

[Becca Acerbi]

"Oh my Gods..." Becca groaned, torn between laughter and horror as the statues came into view. "That's terrible!" Well, at least the statue of her - and the thought that anyone had been looking at her closely enough to make a statue of her was quite worrying to say the least - was mostly hidden. 'I bet Mister Motricé had a hand in making that monstrosity. Must have...'

(Speaking of Mister Motricé, wasn't that statue of Miss Bannon reaching for someone rather definitely not the adhiel? Something wrong there, surely...)

Becca had been so... Well, fascinated was probably the wrong word, and transfixed wasn't much better, but the statues had held her attention long enough that she nearly missed Thavia - which was certainly a task and a half.

"Becca - Becca Acerbi." The girl offered Thavia a tentative smile, bobbing a curtsey. The unfamiliar swish of silk - the midnight-blue dress had appeared in her wardrobe at some point without her knowing, but she wasn't going to turn down a free dress when she had a fancy party to attend - made her smile a little more genuine.

(Part of her honestly couldn't wait to see Morgan's and Elvin's faces when they realised she could actually scrub up to presentable. Well, mostly Morgan's. It was that part of her that ensured she was wearing a dress that was all midnight blue silk and silver thread, and freezing her shoulders off because a) her dress didn't cover them, and b) her ego had overcome her fear of being mugged once the embassy came into view and made her take her cloak off.

The rest of her was occupied with plotting Elvin's death, because she didn't trust him not to laugh - or not to ask if she'd borrowed the dress off the Duchess. As to which was worse...)

[Rosalie Marcada]

Allowing Kaspar to assist her like the gentleman he could be, Rosalie stepped outside of the coach, reminded briefly of that other party that she had attended not so very long ago. She gave Kaspar a secret smile, whispering behind her fan "I wonder how many closet rooms the Embassy has."

Her dress that she carefully picked up, lifting the hem, so as not to step into any dirt, was of a deep burgundy velvet, with the wooden contraption of mouth fashion making her gown stand out to all sides, and frilly black lace giving it an edging along her plunging neckline. Her neck sporting her mother's golden necklace, the one with the garnets that came with matching earrings. Her hands were covered in black lacy gloves that did not hid her skin. Her curls were gathered up to give her added height for she was only a petite woman. Adding a fan and gloves to her out fit and throwing a shawl over her shoulder to give warmth under her dark cloak, Rosalie was every inch the merchant princess.

With considerable interest Rosalie watched the ice statue, wondering if this was the moment that Madam Crecce died. She would have the story out of one of them. She had tucked a lacy handkerchief in the folds of her gown for that purpose. Rose didn't like spies escaping, but seeing them dead was even worse she found, the closest she'd ever get to remorse.

"Rosalie Lo Russo, Consul of the Mouth, " she smiled at the greyhaired lady at the door, her hand on Verducci's arm but not introducing the handsome Condotierre sergeant.

[Morg]

Morgan had not had it easy in preparing for this party. He'd realised that, for a party hosted by the Duke himself, he needed to dress in something other than his usual drab linens... something that his middle-class farmboy lifestyle had thus far never occasioned him to do. Oh, he knew the theory, but the idea of putting it into practice was somewhat worrying. Still, his parents had kitted him out with a solid amount of money before he set off to the Citadel, and he had spent almost none of it so far, so he'd had no trouble in heading to a decent-looking outfitter and doing a bit of spending. After all, it was for a good cause.

Meeting the Duke of Dort. Morgan just couldn't get over it. He had never met anyone that powerful or famous; his nearest claim to fame was spotting the head of his local lord, Lars Latham, through a carriage window as it rattled along the road near his farmstead. At least, he thought it had been him. He wasn't 100% sure.

So here Morgan was, dressed in unfamiliar fancy clothes and feeling only moderately ill at ease (once he'd reconciled himself to the fact of wearing a codpiece, it was no longer an uphill struggle). He was wearing an ensemble dominated by an imperial purple doublet and hose, and the lining of his fur cloak was also in this shade. Rounding off were a pair of very shiny black leather boots reaching most of the way up his calf and a floppy black felt hat with a falcon's feather tucked into the band. Below the hat, his longish black hair was much less greasy than normal, and parted neatly across his pale forehead.

It was only when he reached the Embassy and was confronted with the ice statues that the thought crossed his mind that this could be anything more than a social event for Dortenese expatriates in the Citadel. No... these are the heroes of the Demon Hunt. Of which I suppose I'm one, come to think of it. Which means...

"Becca!" Morgan was unable to restrain himself from calling out in delight, striding over to her as fast as his hose would allow him. "By the gods, I'm glad to see you." He hadn't been expecting anyone he knew to be attending, instead anticipating a long evening of Polite Conversation. And she looks beautiful, he realised. He just about managed to stop himself gaping open-mouthed at the auburn-haired girl in the midnight blue dress, but he was unable to hold back from drinking in the sight of her as he approached... so much so that he almost tripped over the hem of Rosalie's voluminous skirts in the process. "Morgan Scrylock," he announced to the busty Embassy greeter as he regained his balance. "Student of the University."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Blue. So out of fashion. Rosalie thought with an inner sigh as she observed the lady in blue that the boy called out to. She gave the boy a hard look as he nearly tripped over her without apologizing, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her amber eyes. She firmly had to remind herself that she was here to make friends of the Mouth or she would have said something sharp. "Don't worry," Rose murmured, "I'm quite alright."

[Grey Wolf]

Kaspar did not disappoint this time, dismounting the coach first, but not before he gave Rosalie a good look over to make sure her errand in the Outer Ring did not leave any traces. That would simply not do. His own uniform impecable once more, the Sergeant jumped off the coach and helped Madam Consul down, and having the grace to avert his eyes when she mentioned closets at the parties. Her concern about the dirt was completely unfounded, the very stones on the gravel path leading towards the embassy shining. Kaspar fell into step behind her, staying close, but keeping his place as the difference in their position dictated. The line was forming despite Thavia's best efforts as the greeter was busy with the lady in midnight blue before the pair.

As two more of the demon hunters showed up, Thavia all but clapped her hands together, though she could not stop herself from bouncing up and down slightly, her bosom heaving in a way that could put Fauna to shame. "Oh, two more heroes. Welcome. And welcome to you too Madam Consul. Please, follow Jonathan to the guest area." She motioned towards a soldier who appeared behind the quartet, standing at attention waiting for the to follow him and then led them to where the others stood. The music had just ended and a giggling laughter came from the copse of trees as nymphs and satyrs, as the dancers were dressed, frolicked still, falling back to dancing as a new song started.

[Barrett]

Barrett swept in, silent as a desert owl and wearing colors similar to the great golden bird. For he was dressed in the Rafao's gift, the sand-colored desert garb, from head to foot. Loose breeches and an exotic long-sleeved jacket of the same graceful, sturdy material were both embroidered with golden thread in patterns distinct to Amun Rah. Most extreme was the sand-colored turban he wore wrapped about his head in the manner that the palace slave Alevina had shown him.

He nodded to the guards, although by now he expected the Duke's men were quite familiar with his presence at the Embassy.

Thavia. Lovely, and deserving of more attention than I can spare this tide. At least she cannot corner me this time.

He took her hand between his in greeting.
"You look magnificent this evening, dear lady. And such lovely diamonds. Do you have some gentleman admirer that I should be aware of?"
His eyes twinkled with the light tease. This sort of conversation was much more pleasant than the topic he planned to bring to the Duke's attention. And flirtation was a welcome respite from the various trials that the Querist found himself facing on a daily, or even thrice-daily, basis.

Too soon his attention shifted away from the lovely Thavia to the surroundings. The sculptures were marvelous, although inwardly Barrett cringed at seeing his own likeness displayed in such a manner. The significance of the placement and separation of figures was not lost on the priest. He had wanted to suggest hiring a bard or two to originate a few Ulder/Elaine themed songs about the taverns. Perhaps Erwin was a step ahead of him in the propaganda department.

The young mages (Barrett no longer thought of himself as a "youngster", and the marks of working for long periods with the Rosestone were beginning to mirror this physically) seemed occupied with each other. There was Elvin, and the young warrior. (Paladin-in-training?) The Duke's other guests interested the priest. He had wondered about the guest list, hoping that the Panlings - or at least Noland - would be in attendance.

"Madam Consul," his manner was formal for he was still uncertain of his intentions toward Rosalie,"You are looking lovely this evening."

One had to say something, for the bizarre contraption beneath her skirts was impossible to ignore.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir approached the party, looking a bit thinner than usual after his week of fasting and prayer, ans smiled brightly at Thavia. It was not in the priest's nature to seem rude or uncivilized after all, even though his mind was flooded with grim thoughts. The adhiel was dressed in a fancy jerkin of deep crimson, complimented by a soft cream shirt with lace cuffs, black leather breeches, and black boots shining slightly. However the most beautiful adornment was not something he was wearing, but rather the fetching adhiel on his arm. Fialessa had been kind enough to accompany him, after their recent meeting.

It was not uncommon to see Vanir arriving with a young lady, but unlike most of his companions, this was not one of his lovers, but rather someone he was interested for other reasons, if one could believe such a thing.Vanir had only just met her the night before at the Temple, but they had much in common. They spent the night talking of recent events and future plans, coming to a mutual agreement on the more important issues, even if they still disagreed on certain details.

The young priest spoke confidently to Thavia with a pleasantness to his voice. "Vanir Alfheim of Kislovan, accompanied by Miss Fialessa Valenstri."

[Fialessa Valenstri]

Fialessa had considered it rather fortunate that she had met Vanir. And found it even more fortuitous that he had been invited and had extended the offer that she join him for this party. The very party Audrey had spoken of and she had been trying to figure a way into.

And so it was that she, dressed splendidly in Audrey’s flame coloured creation and with her lengthy locks pulled back from her face and swirling around her shoulders, arrived upon his arm. He was still a bit of an enigma to her, but they had planned to work together on things and thus she had time to learn. She smiled prettily at Thavia as he spoke her name, she of course did not know the name of the woman in blue. Blue being such a lovely colour, it was too bad she’d heard it unfashionable here in the Citadel, whatever were these people thinking!

Her warm amber eyes did take in what she could of the immediate surroundings and noted the ice sculptures, and oddly in the forms of many people she’d so recently come to know…

[Guest]

Keros had come back to the Citadel so that he might make a name for himself. He wanted nothing more than to experience the height of social life and earn his place among those considered noteworthy. It was for that reason alone that when he had heard there was to be a party at the Embassy, he knew he had to make it in, invitation or no.

Originally he had thought to dress as a messenger and deliver a fake message to one of those inside, but he realized that not only did he not know just who was inside, but that likely they would have their own staff deliver the message once he took it to the entrance. He later pondered trying to find out who was on the guest list, but then determined there wasn't enough time to get aquainted with anyone and try and get invited as a date. In the end, he decided to just show up and go by gut instinct alone. The worst that could happen is he would be turned away, and even then he wouldn't be any worse off than not attending at all.

And so it was that Keros had donned his finest apparel in his attempt to make it into the party. He arrived wearing his favorite tunic, the silk one in silver that stood in perfect contrast to his hair, hanging loose tonight like a smooth midnight wave to just above his waist. He wore his fur trimmed cloak of red and his leather pants to set it all off. He knew that without any jewelry or adornment it would be obvious that he wasn't someone important, but he also knew that he was in fact, someone mysterious.

He tried to look very confidant and sure of himself as he strolled up to the main door, his head held high. When he approached the buxom woman she spoke.

"Good evening. Welcome to the party. May I have you name please?"

"My dear, you won't find it on that list...yet." He put on his most charming smile and let his gut instincts take over as he tried to charm and persuade his way into the party. "I am Keros Silverflame, storyteller, lover, and bard aspirant." He said with a wink as he once again offered his most charming smile. "I had heard that tonight would be a night to remember, where fates would entertwine, destinies converge, and history be made. I knew it would be but a small chance, but I would have been damned by my Gods if I did not at least attempt to see this story as it unfolds so that I might forge the tale as it happens and immortalize those in attendance for generations to come."

Pan I have offered you praise since the earliest days of my youth. I have been torn in my worship honoring Pecunia as well. I know now that yours is the song that truly calls my heart Pan. I beg thee, lend me the tools I need to gain entrance here so that I might gain the influence I need to spread your faith by art and by pleasure. Keros had never prayed to the Gods asking for anything, but he knew that the events of this night would steer him in the direction of his life and so pray he did. As the thoughts whispered through his head he held his breath for what seemed an eternity awaiting the fair lady's response.[/i]

[Guido Cercatoro]

Three guests approached the woman in the sapphire blue dress who was greeting new arrivals to the party. The first was a thin, hawk-face man with steely grey hair wearing an elegant, embroidered silk coat. Despite his age, for he was clearly well over fifty yahren, he moved with obvious vigour and purpose. On his arm was a petite, dark-haired and beautiful young girl, attired in a clinging black velvet gown. The girl appeared to glide effortlessly over the floor but she had an excited look on her face, as if eager to be through the door and into the party. Lagging slightly behind the first two arrivals was a large, well-muscled man. There was more power than grace in this big man’s demeanour. However, the pair of darting, dancing eyes that lit up his face was evidence of a keen awareness that belied his outer appearance.

The Cranes had arrived. Thomas Crane, the ruthless patriarch of the family; Tiffany, his daughter and Christopher, his son.

“I think you know our names, dear,” Thomas stated, smiling at Thavia, clearly showing appreciation for her well developed figure. However, after this brief introduction, the businessman’s sharp eyes moved beyond his greeter, scanning the room to see who had or had not arrived, who was worth his conversation and who merited his presence.

[Guest]

Sparkling dark eyes looked about the hall, a smile of delight upon her well formed lips as Tiffany admired her surroundings. A manicured hand rested upon her father's arm as he escorted her in. She was comfortable in this element and excited to leave her father's side, secretly hoping that he would have business to conduct so she could have time to explore on her own.

It was rare when Tiffany left her home especially without an escort, but she was getting to that age when her curiosity and ambition wanted to overcome her obediance. It was only the complete adoration of her father which kept her from leaving any earlier.

[Mairi Armstrong]

A party was exactly what Mairi needed to unwind after her first few days. It would also, she hoped, be a marvellous opportunity for networking. Being the newest resident of the embassy would undoubtedly prove a good talking point.

She was wearing her best (she would not admit her only) gown - pale blue, which complemented her eye colour well, with a low dipping neckline and a full skirt. The gown suited her, she thought, although she didn't like the way it exposed the freckles scattered across her decolletage. A silver sash was tied around her waist, defining her figure. Her dark red hair was bound up at the back, with two plaits looped and pinned to the sides of her head. She also wore her traditional silver torque, as always, which betrayed her heritage.

"Good evening, Thavia," Mairi said to the woman with some affection, adding softly, "And thankyou for your tip about Black Bridge this morningtide."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Nodding left and right Rosalie followed the indicated servant. As was right and proper, and Rose was a stickler for form, she went to greet the host first "Your Grace, what a pleasant opportunity for everybody to relax a bit after these dark times are done." What an.. ah.. impressive wife the good duke has. The match must have been favorable.

Rose of course expected the Duke to recognize her, as they had been introduced at the Western Reception that Marcada had held in her honor. "I'm honored that the Mouth was able to play some small part in it all," the consul added modestly. But pivotal. So pivotal. It was irritating that the Inquisitors had not been included in the big ice statue, but that didn't stop Rose from reminding Erwin of her crucial bit of diplomacy.

[Fauna Winthrope]

“This has my approval.” Fauna regally commented when she arrived and saw the ice statues that bedecked the front door of the Dort Embassy. She arrived unfashionably late, as was appropriate, and lingered near the door to scrutinize the magnificent statues. Fauna would have preened her feathers if she were a bird when she saw her own replica majestically duplicated. “Yes, definitely has my approval. Oh, but… but… the positioning of the statues are all so wrong. I should be in front!” She wailed at nobody and imperiously frowned, itching to rearrange the statues by herself. With a sigh of disappointment and a small indignant harrumphed, as if she were deeply insulted, the dark enchantress turned her nose away from the other statues and gracefully walked inside. When Thavia asked her credentials, she gave her an icy glare, from the sole of her out-of-fashioned shoes to her last season dress, up to the tip of her hair. The dark enchantress merely replied by regally arching her well-plucked eyebrow and then went passed Thavia, her Amunic, flawless face imperiously held high, ignoring the growing crowd near Thavia. It was good Fauna wasn’t wearing blue for she could see that some people were wearing the color. For god’s sake, don’t they know blue is so last season? Audrey will have an apoplexy if she sees them. She disdainfully looked at Thavia and her unfashionable smock as if she had the pox.

She looked down at her own dress, gracefully smoothing the wrinkles and adjusted her hold on her Mirror Staff, a thin but sturdy staff of a smooth ebony wood. Topping the staff was a perfect sphere of metal polished mirror bright, which shimmered and rippled occasionally like mercury. Fauna’s shoulder was bare, showing much skin as she could. She was wearing something of a corset, black in hue with elegant purplish and silver whirl designs that contoured and shaped her ample bosom. The corset was almost bursting and her flesh was obviously apparent by a slit running from her bosom down to the seam of the seeming corset with silver chains lacing and holding the almost bursting corset together. A flowing, black satin skirt covered her legs down to her feet, sweeping and trailing behind her. It had purple linings and silvery swirls design on the hem and long slits ran from both sides of her upper thigh down to the hem for easy maneuverability, showing her long, shapely legs. On her neck was her silver necklace, on her ears were the silver earrings that glittered under the light and on her left arm was her arm bracelet. A light gold paint swirls also covered her arms and legs and her blond hair was intricately curled and cascaded over her left naked shoulder like a golden waterfall. The dress was an enigma to her for she could not remember having owned such a fabulous dress before.

With imperious manner, she looked around her and waited for someone to escort her deeper inside the embassy and that was when she caught sight of someone she had not seen for a long time. “Vanir?” Fauna’s blue eyes widened as she saw the handsome face of the Priest of Pan. “It is you, Vanir.” The dark enchantress purred; her voice velvety and she gracefully walked towards him. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” She then frowned and regally turned those icy blue eyes at the red-haired girl beside him, her arms lightly resting on his. “Lady Mere.” Fauna smiled at Fialessa and was about to gracefully offer her slim hand when she caught her error. “Oh, my mistake, Lady. I mistook you for Vanir’s…” She trailed off and then frowned at the Panling Priest, giving him a frosty glare that says, Who in the Nether is she? And why are you going out with her and not with Mere?

[Grey Wolf]

Had it not been for her bubbliness and hyperactive nature, Thavia would have been overwhelmed by all those people arriving and addressing her. She managed admirably, each person receiving a pleasant smile, a friendly nod and a polite greeting. Barrett of course received the most, with Thavia tugging his sleeve and leaning close to whisper in Querist's ear. "I will catch you later and we can discuss whether I have an admirer. Once people are here I am free to pursue you." She giggled and drew closer to brush her assets against his forearm, before letting go and turning to next arrival.

Vanir smile was answered by one of Thavia's brightest ones, the buxom lady just releasing the arm of another priest. The Soldier stepped forward to lead him to the yard where others were gathering, while the Embassy greeter took care of the others. Quickly checking her list she motioned for another guard to approach and lead them in. "Welcome to the party. Both of you. Please follow Jonathan to the garden. Everyone is there."

Oh, but Thavia had a list for everything and when Keros announced his occupation, she turned a few pages and drew her pen across the names there. "I'm sorry, I have no-one named Keros on the list of entertainers. If you would be so kind to tell me who hired you and for what purpose I might see to it that you are directed accordingly." Her tone was quite businesslike and while the smile was still there it did not quite reach her eyes, as she suspected she had a con-man on her hands.

Luckily for Keros an elderly man appeared behind him and Thavia hissed "Stand there and wait", as her smile returned, pointing to a spot a bit behind her. Perhaps if he was fast he might slip through the door, but all the other guests were not going that way. "Indeed, Master Crane. Please if you would be so kind as to step through the door and into the garden." Then a beaming smile fell on Tiffany with a small compliment following closely. "You must be Master Crane's lovely daughter Tiffany. Seek me out later and I shall give you a tour of the Embassy if you'd like."

More and more people were coming and Thavia was starting to feel flustered, though what she never expected was to see Mairi coming through the front door. Wasn't she inside already? Oh, well...... "Good evening, milady. You know where the garden is, right? Through that door and just follow the hallway." Then, almost as an afterthought she added. "Next time try the gelato at Blackbridge. With chocolate on top."

Fauna might have thought her fashion sense enabled her to look down on people, but Thavia was not just a pretty face, but a rather important employee of the Embassy. With a wave of her hand a pair of guards blocked the sorceress' advance deeper into the Embassy, Vanir and Fialessa moving out of her sight to where the music was coming from. Thavia waited for Fauna to turn and then smiled almost too sweetly. "Good evening, milady. Might I have your name so I can see if you are on the list?" Before Fauna could ever reply, the answer came from the doors, professor Moore smiling at the Amunic lady. "Fauna Winthorpe. Former student at the University of Magic. Former Amunic slave. And I do sincerely hope former dark mage. For her own good." He moved closer and added in an almost off-handed manner. "Professor Moore of the University of Magic." Then, waiting for Thavia to check their names so they could move in, he turned to Fauna. "Good evening, Fauna. It has been a while."

[Grey Wolf]

The Duke must have sensed her approach somehow, turning to face Rosalie despite her almost stealthy approach from his back. He was all a smile and even managed a proper bow, despite his not-so-apparent age. "Ah, Madam Consul. How nice to see you. I believe you know Baron Marcada?" It was the Baron that sat in the chair, his face coming into view only once Rosalie came close. "Yes, I think she recognizes me. I hear you have arranged for some foreign help, my dear." To this the Duke added. "Yes, a pity all six of them died. Such shame. But, it shows us our nations can work together, towards the mutual benefit, instead of fighting."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie's back was erect and her face never ever lost her smile, even though the Erwin casually mentioned that indeed, as they had feared Father Pulo was dead too, the last of the Inquisitors. She wondered if the duke was threatening her, then decided to ignore it save for a little sally. "You will excuse me for saying so, Your Grace, but the Citadel is a very deadly city," the consul remarked "It reminds me of home." Hardly. Barbarous country. Soon however it would be home and Rosalie was not planning on being intimidated by the Empires most powerful politicians at the start of a long political career. She lifted her chin slightly, a stubborn glint in her amber eyes.

"Illish," Rosalie laughed as she walked closer to her intended husband sitting in a nearby chair "Stop teasing me. How is your leg, darling? I'm afraid there still is no word from Papa. Ramius must not have reached that portal yet. Such a bother that ours is not operational. I intent to make a brief trip home in the coming days for the suspense is killing me." The merchant princess deliberately stood next to Marcada, a hand on his shoulder in a most possessive, wifely gesture as she met the eyes of K'mith calmly. Let them condemn her for what she did, not for what Ranier had done. Surely Marcada had told them, or was he allowing such nasty doubts to continue?

Rose smiled at the Duke's words "Yes, I think cooperation is far more profitable. With all due respect for the Condotierre, which truly is a magnificent legion" She glanced at Kaspar in his gala uniform "Swords do not make money, they only incur costs. A necessary evil, but if it is not necessary just a waste. I'm convinced that if we can continue this trend of cooperation a favorable agreement can be made regarding some contested issues. In fact, I have already mentioned some of those options to Lord Azarin."

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin marvelled at the magical sculptures and their craftmanship. "Ingenious!" he muttered, "but a tremendous waste of energy and money..." The Adhiel shrugged and turned around when Talanwei greeted him.

In every society there were exceptions to the normal standards and Elvin certainly fell in that category. Standing six foot tall, over half a foot taller then most Adhiel, the Mentor was certainly not a normal Adhiel. He smiled: "Namaste, Talanwei, it is indeed good to see a familiar face. I've always preferred things simple."

The Mentor stepped inside but lingered at the entrance, he was curious to see how many of the 'heroes' would show up. "You can go on without me, Talanwei. I have to wait for someone..."

When the sorcerer saw Becca come into view a smile played around his lips. "Very nice, Miss Acerbi... It seems there is yet hope for you. Appearance can be important, especially when you want people to take you seriously." And then Morgan approached and started talking to Becca. The Adhiel almost did start laughing out loud then. "Dear boy, you really need to do something about that act. That was so obvious!"

When Becca and Morgan stepped inside he dipped into a graceful bow, taking Becca's hand and kissing it: "Miss Acerbi, good eveningtide. Lovely to see you," he turned to Morgan, "And, Mister Scrylock, a good eveningtide to you too. It is good the two of you arrived together," he leaned closer to the two of them and whispered, "Stay together tonight. I suspect there might be some people here who'll try to harm you. Consider that an order and have fun." "That is one step in the right direction. Now only..."

The mage caught sight of someone approaching the Embassy, someone who couldn't resist making a show out of it. The smile disappeared from the Adhiel's face as he watched Fauna approach. A cold fire shimmered in his eyes. Becca and Morgan had seen that look before and it usually meant nothing good. "Fauna Winthrope... It has been a while..."

He watched her little show and overconfidence with amusement. The men barring her way were certainly destroying her entire performance. He nodded shortly when Fialessa entered, noting the name of the other Adhiel with interest. But his eyes never left Fauna's figure for more then a few flickers, the look on his face unchanging.

When Professor Moore made his entrance the sorcerer smiled grimly. He had met the man a few times in the University and rather liked him. Even if the Adhiel had hated him, that would have all changed at this very moment for the man had given him a chance. "This is the opening I need..." He stepped out of the shadows, towards Fauna and Moore. "You can safely remove the former from the dark mage part, Professor. I felt her use of blood magic during the Hunt."

He turned to Fauna, : "Good evening, Miss Winthrope, I hope you are doing well. And I must warn you that for your continued health you should stop practicing the dark arts. There are some people in the Citadel who are most interested in your... profession. And not in a good way, I assure you."

[Guest]

The greeter Thavia received a polite and sweet smile from Tiffany who was used to compliments and accepted them graciously. "Thank you, ma'am. That is such a lovely idea and I plan to accept this tour of the Embassy later in the evening when you are not so busy. Her smile brightened in encouragement imagining how overwhelmed the lady might be feeling while the guestlist is being closed off.

Dark, beautiful eyes roamed over with curiosity towards Keros who seemed to be set aside when her father and she were being greeted. She wondered if he was supposed to be here and at least looked dressed to blend in. Her gaze did not stay on for too long which would cause her father to wonder what she was staring at. Instead, she headed in with her father waiting for the best time to excuse herself.

[Keaira Morgandy]

Keaira swept into the entrance of the Dort Embassy with all the grace and poise as any of the other women who belonged there--for she belonged there too, by express invitation. Or had it been instruction? She had played up every good feature and enhanced every curve that night, for this occasion was quite important.

She was clothed in a velvet gown of pure black, the dark color standing out in sharp contrast to her porcelain skin and making her seem that much paler by comparison. The bodice of the gown was a complimentary dark violet, black lace drawing attention to the enticingly low neckline and the curves below it. Her hair was partially tied back, two braids on either side holding back the rest of her raven locks, which whispered softly over her flawless shoulders, left bare by the low sleeves of her dress. Ribbons held the braids in place, though a few choice strands of hair had been left free to frame her doll-like features. Her eyes, lined darkly with kohl, seemed intense and penetrating, their keen gaze surveying all that was before her. The light brush of rogue upon her cheeks completed the whole ensemble, and the marionette-given-life continued on to where Thavia was just sending Tiffany and her father on their way.

Oh, it's him. Keaira's fierce gaze fell upon Keros, a coy smile curling her pouty lips upward. I bet he can't get in, he looks as if he has been set aside. She was upon him in an instant and without a word, her arm slipping deftly through his, and her eyes already upon Thavia when her attention came back to them. Keaira flashed a disarming smile just brimming with sweetness and manners, addressing the woman in a warm and friendly tone that suggested nothing other than that she was the most angelic thing in the world. "Good evening, my lady," she began smoothly, "my name is Keaira Morgandy. Dancer, singer, entertainer, but tonight a guest. I am from Dort, and I was invited here by Fauna Winthrope herself. This," she indicated Keros, "is my escort. I do hope he didn't give you any trouble, he can be rather mischievous." Her smile flashed again, and she glanced past the woman almost distractedly. "Has Fauna arrived yet? I would be happy to let you check with her if you don't believe me." Keaira looked expectantly at Thavia. If Fauna had treated her the way Keaira assumed she had, no doubt the woman would want little more to do with her. Not that it would be a problem if she did, for this was one of those exceptionally rare occasions where Keaira actually wasn't lying.

[Guido Cercatoro]

With a brief nod to Thavia, Thomas Crane passed though the door and made his way to the garden area, his daughter still firmly attached to his arm. Christopher followed, whilst almost unnoticed, a fourth member of the party, a woman with long auburn hair and a delicate face, quietly followed.

Entering the garden, the family patriarch bent to whisper to his daughter. “After the pleasantries are over, you may leave and enjoy yourself. I will have business to attend to; it will no doubt be boring in the extreme.” He patted Tiffany’s arm and made his way directly in the direction of the Duke.

“Your grace,” the grey-haired man began. “This is indeed, a ….pleasant gathering. May I introduce my daughter, Tiffany and my son, Christopher.”