Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[SilverFlight]

Desrick examined Lohr's damaged skin. "I'm not sure."
"It is!" Mari appeared beside them, large eyes shining with happiness. She had brought her father into the house to rest on Gideon's orders. "That's part of the healing."
Without warning she threw her arms about Desrick's stomach as far as they could go (which was about halfway). Desrick was taken aback and looked form Mari to Lohr, his hands raised in mild surprise.
"Thank you for saving my papa." She said into the fabric of his shirt.
When she drew back her eyes were wet and she was smiling. Desrick smiled too.
"When you're better," the orc spoke to Lohrithe again, suddenly much less sure of himself. "We could practice the Sumennan dances. If you want to. Um...together?"
Zazz

Pyrrhus pranced as he played, watching with delight as the others began too. It was a lighthearted and quick-paced tune.
"You won't need me to catch you, but I will always be ready."
Pyrrhus bowed to her in return. "The pleasure would be all mine lady fair!" He paused in his tune just long enough to brush her hand delicately with his before resuming his playing and his dancing.
"You'll need an outfit for the ball." Pyrrhus said at length, after Pearl had the chance to let the music move her. "Any ideas?"
HumbugPie

Pyrrhus was watching everyone enjoy his music, though time and again his eyes settled on the young inquisitor, dancing alone and in his own world. Pyrrhus watched his steps, memorized them, and then gave Pearl a mischievous wink. He had an idea.
As subtly as he could Pyrrhus inched closer as he danced his own steps, then, he adapted them; changing the pace, the direction and the movements to compliment what Crow was doing. Before long Pyrrhus was weaving about him gracefully, accenting Crow's routine with spins and jumps and slides and pivots. With a playful smile, he waited for Crow to notice.
Goonfire HumbugPie

 

[Goonfire]

"One, two, three, four..." Crow counted repeatedly, whispering to himself. He was staring down, gawking at his own feet to ensure he wouldn't trip over a comrade's personal effects, or the infamous poorly-placed rock or root. There his full focus remained until he noticed a shadow entering his peripheral vision. Immediately, he peered up, his eyes leveling roughly with the navel of a centaur and then traveling up to meet the familiar Pyrrhus' beaming face. It took a few seconds and several quick up-and-down glances to process what was happening, but it was easy to tell when Crow had figured it out; the splash of red coloring his pale cheeks was proof enough. "I..." he began shakily. "I seem to have discovered my sense of rhythm, finally."

Noticing a few deviations from his own motions, Crow worked to adapt as well, slowly at first and growing a bit more precise every few measures. Split as his attention was, his legs kept up. "You're really... graceful," he complimented kindly. The pause seemed different this time, as if he had a word at first, but cut himself off to pick a different one.

SilverFlight

 

[Zazz]

Ora's glare at Desrick was soft when he teased her. She had expected the teasing, not the compliments, and both made him deserving of a glare. But she couldn't bring herself to do it- a smile played across her lips and she had to roll her eyes in exasperation.
Ora of the Silver Tongue. Ora Silvertongue. Wouldn't be a bad name if I decided to drop Hearth.
She let him comments go unanswered, because she was afraid she would never get rid of the pink tinge if she kept talking about Crispin. It was irritating- they had known each other.. a few mark-rounds? No, more than that, because it took three to make the treaty, and they were there for one or two before that.. The time in Cyndara was a blur, but still too short to warrant her becoming flustered at the thought of someone she had met there.
She looked over to where Lohr was standing, considering him. He looked okay, at least much improved, and surely he would be okay in the shade of the great tree they were under. In any case, Desrick retreated with a bow as Azaria came and asked for (demanded) her hand. Ora gave a short, clear laugh at his bow, and then turned to the assassin.
SilverFlight

The dwarf looked at the her new partner, then at the retreating Iolas, who called something about 'unfresh air.' For the second time that day, Ora was not convinced about his.. state of mind. Her dark gaze flicked back to Azaria. She was somehow even less familiar than Iolas- because she hadn't gone book shopping, hadn't told her she was uniquely beautiful and meant it, hadn't taken off the mask. The other halfling was even more difficult to read, but the faint inkling of disquiet she might have felt from Iolas was enough for her to make a half-hearted guess.
"Must have been some dance to send both of you running in opposite directions." There was no humor in the statement, but no judgement either. Just words, just a barely thought-out observation. Ora was already giving her muscles a quick stretch, preparing for another dance. The dwarf chose not to think about why Azaria had approached her- best not pull at threads she didn't want to unravel. It would be best to get the dance over with, and then she could go commandeer Gideon's estate forge.
"I assume you will lead, since you're asking," She murmured, then added, "I have a horrible feeling I will be sore tomorrow."
Zazz

The halfling elf answered Ora's comment with nothing more than a glance at Iolas as he retreated. She felt just a tad guilty for leaving him as she had; their exchange had felt too open, too... intimate, for comfort. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Azaria took the dwarf's hand and set her other at Ora's hip. "I suppose I could go easy on you," she mused as their dance began. "Though one would think that a skilled smith such as yourself would be accustomed to hard work of the body."

 

[LazyDaze]

Iolas was surprised when Pyrrhus approached him, it seemed as if he spoke to him through the music. He froze, only slightly perturbed that he could not escape so easily. What was he here for? Costume design, meaningless conversation, a special request? He had the look of someone who knew too much. Iolas was tempted to turn the door knob and continue his trek to loneliness, but he couldn’t. As it would turn out, Pyrrhus was here for him…strange. Iolas raised an eyebrow when he began, slowly turning around to look up at Pyrrhus, something Iolas clearly wasn’t used to. What he was saying made sense, and it lined up with how Iolas really felt; however, he didn’t want it to make sense. He wanted it all to be a lie. In fact, it might have been better to just say, stay away from her from now on. Trying to get close to people was scary, frivolous, and completely ludacris; yet, it feels so natural to do so. Iolas took a quick glance at Azaria, and then looked back at Pyrrhus. “…*sigh* Are you absolutely positive there is not a knife currently taking residence in my back,” Iolas said with a rare serious tone, once again looking in Azaria’s direction. It was not as playful, or lighthearted as his usual comments, but he felt like he could relax around Pyrrhus, there was no need to be that Iolas in the moment. He sighed again and pulled down his scarf flashing his trademark smile. “…I would rather face the man eating plants of Cyndara to be perfectly honest, but I suppose I will trust in your words. She will be my dance partner after all and I would hate to have a bad showing.”

Pyrrhus successfully ended Iolas’s attempted trip to isolation; however, he was still struggling with his own emotions. He pulled his scarf up again and walked into the fray this time before randomly popping up next to pearl.

“A bird and a horse, strange dance partners are they not? Almost as strange as a high elf and a dagger, or a water elf and the floor," Iolas said doing his best to hold back a chuckle. "Sometimes when you look around, you see how strange the world really is...” Iolas glanced around the room taking in the sight to behold. So many different creatures and people of different classes dancing, laughing, and living in harmony, yet this dream is what the world called unnatural, uncommon, and taboo. Even venturing only a few meters outside of this bubble would place you in the harsh reality life. Despite the feelings of everyone present, they were the criminals, they were immoral. The entire world was against such a representation of the entire world, and as Pyrrhus' lute hummed, Iolas found the theme of the ball all the more ironic, and sadistic.

"Cyndara…."

Zazz SilverFlight Goonfire HumbugPie

 

[HumbugPie]

Without thinking about it, Pearl danced along as she talked and for the first time in the practice session she felt like she was making progress, "I was thinking of a dress made from the ocean, adorned with pearls, shells and fish floating inside of its skirt," Pearl's eyes glossed over as she imagined the beautiful way the dress would move; like waves rippling around her, "it's the first ball I will have ever attended. Though I have spectated many in my time, I have never had the pleasure of being involved. I think it'll be memorable enough, being an interception and all." As Pyrrhus winked at her, Pearl tilted her head to question him in a way. She gave him a closed-lips smile and raised one of her eyebrows - "What're you up to?" she whispered as he walked away.

Still watching the centaur, Iolas' unexpected presence made her jump a little and one of the fish in her hair peeped around the side of her face and stuck its little tongue out at Iolas, making a raspberry. Her feet tangled once again, but this time, she managed to save herself and play it off cool. He always seemed to catch her off guard, "I happen to think the floor would be a rather wonderful dance partner," she smirked, a snort-like laugh escaping from her mouth. She still didn't know how to approach his behaviour, so maybe testing the waters with a few ideas would help, or at least she thought. "This world is strange. Some of us try to embrace it and others try to sweep it under the rug, so to speak," sighing, she looked up at Iolas, him being rather a lot taller than her, and gave him a sympathetic look. His emotions had changed rather drastically since the first time they had met. Maybe this was a chance for Pearl to find out more about him.
LazyDaze SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus seemed to enjoy catching Crow off-guard and his smile grew when Crow's cheeks coloured.
"I knew you would." The centaur replied as he watched the fine example of Crow's rhythm.
The young inquisitor seemed to pause in his compliment, enough to make Pyrrhus raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Well, like attracts like I suppose." His tone was back to being playfully flirtatious.
He finished the song with an extra flourish and ended with an elegant bow from his forelegs, one crossed over the other.
"That was fun. You know, I think you'd be very well-suited to a special dance I've been working on. It requires a two-legged partner...if you ever fancy giving it a try."
Goonfire

He heard Iolas' return to teasing the water elf and wrinkled his nose.
"You know Iolas, we most often find it satisfying to barb others when we ourselves are hurt."
He put his attention on Pearl then, not giving the high elf room for a retort. "Your dress sounds positively stunning. I hope you'll let me help draw it into reality."
"I want to help too!" Marillene had skipped over to the gathering, bright as a summer flower. Gone was the shy, reserved girl who missed her father. "I can sew very well, and mr. Hob the cloth merchant likes me so much he'll give me the best brocades and silks. Anything I want!"
Pyrrhus had to admit he like this Marillene much better. It warmed his heart to know that his friends had played a part in her happiness.
"And so you shall!" Pyrrhus exclaimed, matching her enthusiasm. "For anyone who can charm a cloth merchant must be worth befriending."
LazyDaze HumbugPie Goonfire

 

[Goonfire]

The exercises where making Crow more eager to try new things and experience the rich Cyndaran culture. “Like? I’m not that graceful,” he humbly replied, the pinkish red still dusting his face.
SilverFlight

Iolas’ commentary so far was rather colorful, always fun to hear. “I’m starting to understand that saying, ‘variety is the spice of life’,” Crow openly stated. Indeed, there was enough diversity here to help him prove the centuries-old point.
LazyDaze

Returning back to Pyrrhus, Crow applauded and then stroked his own chin thoughtfully. The invitation to help the centaur was sudden, but he took it in stride and liked what he was offered. “A special dance, you say? I do fancy that, if you suppose I’m a fit-enough partner for it.” It took a lot to contain that giddy feeling evoked by the thought of helping create something new that could spread to the corners of the continent... or at least across Cyndara. His stare grew distant as he envisioned the best possible outcome.

Luckily, Pearl started a conversation that snapped the inquisitor back to reality. She had a dress design in mind already!? “I would love to bear witness to the making of it. In fact...” He leaned in closer, draping one arm around Pyrrhus’ waist and the other over Pearl’s shoulder. “... We three should go together. It would give Pyrrhus a chance to see the fruit of today’s labor. After all, I hazard we are his biggest works in progress, worthy of a before-and-after story after all is done.” His humor-laced plan was on the table, but he still needed a costume for himself... “We will need some gold accents, naturally. I would almost call that ‘camouflage’ in the wealthiest parts of Sumenna, after all.” While formulating his ideas, Crow was also secretly contemplating body paint and a cheeky outfit with a beaked mask for himself.

HumbugPie SilverFlight

 

[Flutterby]

Ora watched Azaria look over to Iolas, but even when she sighed and shook her head, there wasn't an expression on her face that Ora could even guess at. How could someone react, look at another human and sigh, without it actually showing on their face? A pebble of disquiet settling in Ora's gut- Pyrrhus sure picked weird people to befriend.
The dwarf smirked when Azaria brought up her profession. "The swing of a hammer, is a very different motion than a dance. I've been smithing every day for 20 years. I haven't danced a single time in just as long." She paused, realized that she had just addressed her exile out loud and freely, and frowned. But she added, "Different work, different muscles, different soreness. I imagine the difference is similar for you- stabbing a man surely uses different strength than dancing with him."
She had no trouble talking, watching the others, and keeping up with Azaria's dancing. The others were talking now of dresses, and Ora brought the subject up to her partner. "The costume-making is going to be interesting. I can't decide if it would be better to blend in.. or if I would rather shove it in their faces that they couldn't get rid of me." Ora blinked, as a hint of malice crept into her tone- this whole ball was hitting far too close to childhood trauma for comfort.
Zazz

 

[LazyDaze]

Iolas chuckled as he took note of the...colorful personality of the fish. It was almost as colorful as her personality...but then again...wasn't that just a representation OF her personality. Iolas rubbed his chin as she spoke...technically she wasn't wrong. Without a floor, you really could not dance at all. In that sense it was the ultimate dance partner; however, before he could enter that thought any further she said something profound as he raised an eyebrow in response to her take on embracing the world or ignoring it. Perhaps it was that simple, people would sweep any conflicting realities under the rug. Sumenna and Cyndara war as they trade understanding and similarities for war and differences. Lassard strives toward his agenda with little regard for the consequences of his actions. Even now, Iolas doubts anyone here besides himself tries to understand Lassard. After all he was Lassard in the past. He looked down at her with a smile trying to figure out why it was her who looked as if she was sorry for him...sorry for the one who could tell his left from his right foot.

"We do not just sweep it under a rug...we bury it," Iolas said calmly, holding his smile to the end. THat was when Pyrrhus interjected. Iolas thought he must have really got under the skin of someone if Pyrrhus would face him in such a direct manner. The funny part was that Pyrrhus words were exactly true; however, he was already too numb to reflect on it. He was not even given time to retort. "...Oh Pyrrhus, you know me so well," Iolas whispered to himself before trailing them as they discussed other matters. He heard Crow mention his costume for the ball. "Camouflage? Who would have thought that it would be more expensive to not be seen. I wonder what invisible threads would fetch on the open market? I suppose I should come up with a costume as well lest I show up completely nude."

Zazz SilverFlight HumbugPie

 

[Zazz]

Desrick examined Lohr's damaged skin. "I'm not sure."
"It is!" Mari appeared beside them, large eyes shining with happiness. She had brought her father into the house to rest on Gideon's orders. "That's part of the healing."
Without warning she threw her arms about Desrick's stomach as far as they could go (which was about halfway). Desrick was taken aback and looked form Mari to Lohr, his hands raised in mild surprise.
"Thank you for saving my papa." She said into the fabric of his shirt.
When she drew back her eyes were wet and she was smiling. Desrick smiled too.
"When you're better," the orc spoke to Lohrithe again, suddenly much less sure of himself. "We could practice the Sumennan dances. If you want to. Um...together?"

Lohrithe smiled at the little troll, Mari, as she attempted to hug Desrick. "Your Papa was in good hands." He recalled Azaria's promise to the girl. He was proud of Desrick, and the others, though sad he could not have partaken in the rescue efforts. The drow brushed off some dead skin as Mari bounced away. He took Desrick's face in his hands gently, and stood on his toes to kiss him. "I would like very much to dance with you, but... I am afraid I know none of the steps." He placed a hand on Desrick's chest and chewed his own lip. He was shy, and did not want to make a fool of himself.

 

[Zazz]

Ora watched Azaria look over to Iolas, but even when she sighed and shook her head, there wasn't an expression on her face that Ora could even guess at. How could someone react, look at another human and sigh, without it actually showing on their face? A pebble of disquiet settling in Ora's gut- Pyrrhus sure picked weird people to befriend.
The dwarf smirked when Azaria brought up her profession. "The swing of a hammer, is a very different motion than a dance. I've been smithing every day for 20 years. I haven't danced a single time in just as long." She paused, realized that she had just addressed her exile out loud and freely, and frowned. But she added, "Different work, different muscles, different soreness. I imagine the difference is similar for you- stabbing a man surely uses different strength than dancing with him."
She had no trouble talking, watching the others, and keeping up with Azaria's dancing. The others were talking now of dresses, and Ora brought the subject up to her partner. "The costume-making is going to be interesting. I can't decide if it would be better to blend in.. or if I would rather shove it in their faces that they couldn't get rid of me." Ora blinked, as a hint of malice crept into her tone- this whole ball was hitting far too close to childhood trauma for comfort.
Zazz

Azaria followed every change in expression in Ora's eyes as the half-dwarf spoke. Some people were simply not trained to hold their emotions. Perhaps that was a good thing, she mused. She supposed it made relationships a lot easier. Honest ones, anyway.

"I think you would be surprised. Dance is a part of killing." The finesse, the art. The fluidity of movement. It was all a dance with death.

While Ora was talking and observing the others, Azaria had her eyes only on her partner; the assassin had carefully maneuvered their more elegant, elven inspired dance to an outright dwarvish dance, meant for rotalty and high ranking families. If her suspicions were true, as they seemed to be, Ora would slip right into the steps as naturally as smithing.

"Do you honestly believe you fit in? Here, in the bowels of Sumenna?" Azaria laughed. "Wear something... turquoise. Take the opportunity to shine. You deserve to."

 

[Flutterby]

Ora didn't respond to Azaria comment of killing; even though she was running around with twin swords and would put one through Lassard if she could, she found the willingness to do so uncomfortable, even in herself.
Ora didn't exactly notice the change in the dance, but she did hesitate once. She assumed, on some subconscious level, that Azaria would lead her in a more common dance, something dwarves would teach casually to others even outside of events like the one they were about to attend. It was a relatively small difference, but she was surprised to find her partner moving in a far more traditional way. Once her body realized it's mistake, once she reminded herself to stop anticipating the lead and just follow it, the dance flowed the way it should again.
Her eyes narrowed at the sound of the laugh, unsure if she was being laughed at, or if it was the Sumennan way of life that was apparently humorous.
There was a moment of silence, where Ora was observing her face without really expecting to see anything, and then the dwarf said, "I think if I ever want to look like one of them, it will be now, wearing a mask and surrounded by their glamorized 'ugliness'. Truly blending in with the royal summerlanders is a once-in-a-lifetime for me. Bettering them is.. a tempting fantasy." Her voice was measured again, the malice dissipating as she used it to fuel the more challenging sequence. But what would be bettering them.. assimilation or excellence?
Turquoise was an interesting idea though, and not a bad one. It would remind her of the glow of the forest, of the ripples of light as it breathed. That would make her feel better, maybe. Her heart jumped when she remembered the 'stars' that Deseick had showed her- she knew that using too much real knowledge might put them in danger, but surely pearls were still in style anyway..
Zazz

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus considered Crow for a long moment. "I...no, you made that one too easy." He was smiling roguishly. "Suffice to say, yes, you'll do very well, but before we work on the dance, we should get your outfit ready for the ball!"
Goonfire

Iolas wasn't leaving the last word to anyone and Pyrrhus merely shook his head. "I don't think anyone can claim that honour Iolas. I'm not ever sure if you know yourself."
LazyDaze

Desrick still wasn't used to the change between them and he tensed as Lohr cupped his face, not expecting the tender gesture. Years of forced distance were hard to break. When Lohr kissed him however is was like a tie being loosed and suddenly he could move again. It was over too quickly.
His hand went to the fingers spread over his chest and he ran a thumb affectionately over Lohr's knuckles.
"Do you remember when you first came to my tribe? The orc battlemasters refused to train you initially, so I trained you in secret. Well, I can learn the steps, and teach you away from the others. Just like when we were young."
Zazz

~*~*~

In the days that followed Pyrrhus worked tirelessly, teaching dance and taking their visions for their attire, directing the tailors and learning Sumennan etiquette. The wear began to show close to the end but it never outweighed the joy lighting his face.
Gideon instructed them as much as he could:
"Sumennan court is a dangerous place. You will never find a more sullied pit of deceiving vipers. You will have to be cunning. Your manners are your true mask here. Choose every word carefully. I don't think I've seen a high court function without at least one murder, so stay on your toes. Those who need one will be given an alias. I've made sure to choose obscure names that will appear on court registries but whom no one will mark or remember. The documents proving Evereach's guilt will be given to Pyrrhus for safekeeping. Most nobles will not even look at a slave, it is beneath them, so he has the best chance of carrying them unseen. It is your job to find the leaders of Brynson and the minor houses and bring them together so they can see the evidence for themselves, but Evereach will have guests there too, this ball is in their honour after all, and they will have spies. Be very wary, and trust no one."
Now, as the carriages pulled up to the gates of the mighty castle, Pyrrhus marked how much larger it looked now that they were actually standing there. It had been a constant presence at the manor, looming out of the city like a king among the rooftops. The gilded gates parted and he folloed the last carriage inside.
Pyrrhus had worked just as hard on his own attire. The servants were also going masked and he had chosen a brilliant one, gold and cream, with the features slightly changes to resemble the face of a stag, proud antlers reaching up from the brow, leafed in gold. He worse a shirt made of the thinnest silk which could be seen through. It was embroidered with swirling gold vines. He had used body paint to carry on the pattern down his front legs and across his back and the rings in his hair had been changed from copper to gold. The cuffs adorned his wrists and he walked as he was taught, head bowed.

Desrick pulled at his collar. He did not much care what it looked like, so he had allowed the centaur free rein. Pyrrhus had chosen a deep turquoise brocade for the jacket and a cream shirt underneath. The trousers were black, velvet things tucked into soft, buckskin boots. There was lace bunched at his thick, burly throat and the mask was a stylized boar face in black and gold and set with aquamarine stones.
"I feel like a peacock." He muttered under his breath. "Is this really what they wear to these things?"
The carriages drew up to the gates, where there were dozens of nobles milling about, their splendour dazzling even the immaculately-decorated front gardens. There was a set of marble steps leading up to a set of gilded double doors and within the main hall was lit by a massive glass dome, letting sunlight filter onto a checkered floor. Desrick was one of the first to step out and he noticed that there were indeed a great many glamoured faces. Skin hues ranged from deep red to bright green and the costumes in many cases sported horns or tails. It was a spectacular mockery of everything Desrick knew.
He clenched his jaw and turned. As he had been taught by Gideon very firmly, he held up a hand to help his partner ( Zazz ) from the cabin.

It was clear the nobles were waiting for some sort of signal before they went into the hall.

Zazz Flutterby LazyDaze Goonfire mothspit HumbugPie

 

[Zazz]

"Fitting in is just playing by their rules. I reccomend the fantasy," said Azaria. She had little love for the ways of their country. "If only for a night." As the dance came to a close, the assassin leaned in close to Ora's ear and murmured, "Own the show."

________

Lohrithe took his great green partner's hand and stepped out of the carriage. This was all so formal and... fancy. The drow stepped out into the sunlight, squinting. His chest was bare, his long vest-cloak shimmering; it was silver with a deep blue swirling pattern. It was something he might have worn to a celebration back at home. His skin had healed, no longer peeling, and he had applied Desrick's sun balm before leaving Gideon's estate. His hair was loose, a few strands braided underneath and set with silver. His mask, too, was silver, featuring his black eyes, his green irises the only other colour. Even his hair shimmered gently; the pearlescent powder he had shared with Ora gave it a soft shine.

"Well, you are a most handsome peacock," Lohrithe teased, having heard Desrick's comment. Looking around, he said, "Have these people never been to Cyndara? Look, what even is that meant to be?"

____

Azaria arrived separately from the group in a carriage shared only with Iolas. It was unwise to show their association, now that Lassard had seen them. They had to be careful not to rouse suspicion. The pair of elves had possibly the most difficult task; playing guests to Lassard, himself.

The assassin bore only half of her face, from the outer corner of her left eye to the right corner of her red painted lips. Her mark was covered. Pyrrhus had adorned her hair with black feathers. Her mask was black, dotted with a handful of subtle glitter, like stars over the Cyndaran sky. Her dress, black as night, flowed effortlessly from her waist down. Above her waist was decorated with lace and shimmery black stones to create a feathery look for the strapless gown. Her wrists were hidden to about her forearms with thick lace, and were armed with small, undetectable throwing knives.

Spoiler: Dress

 

[Flutterby]

Ora watched Az slip away from her, narrowing her eyes and wondering if the assassin knew that that kind of 'own the show' attitude was exactly the problem with her family line. The dwarf pushed it from her mind, spent a few moments fawning over designs, and then disappeared to gently take over Gideon's small forge. She needed a dose of her real life.
Zazz
-----
It had been 20 years since she had put on a dress, sat for a glamorist, and then climbed into a carriage. It felt so horribly wrong, and so horribly familiar- like when she was halfway through a swing of her hammer and just knew that it would hit the ore wrong.
She hadn't forgotten Azaria's advice, and had indeed gone with a shade of blue- not turquoise though, but the shade that her mother had been known to choose. The one that matched the pendant she wore around her neck, now hidden underneath fine cloth. A much more elvish dress than she would have worn before, with looser silks that made her look far more feminine than she expected. She had paired her gown with gold-hued accents, even down to her shoes, some of which she had made herself. The headdress was almost entirely her own invention; she had only needed help with covering and painting the horns. They rose above her head imposingly, angled away from her real horns. The two pairs of horns were connected by delicate golden chains- those had taken hours- where pearls hung to remind her of stars. Blue shell inlays graced the top of the crown and the horn-rings she had crafted, copying the one from Cyndara as best she could. A glamorist had been kind enough to lighten her skin, getting rid of her dark marks, change the undertone of her hair from maroon to honey, and change her eyes to an unnaturally matching shade of blue. When she donned her scaled mask, she really did feel like a different dwarf.

Spoiler: Ora Costume Inspiration Images

-----
She hadn't thought to officially pair herself with another. It wouldn't have mattered anyway- with Pyrrhus stuck as an observer, their group was odd in number and someone would have had to go unpaired. It didn't bother her that she was the one; she had always gone to balls alone when she was young, and she was most familiar with how things worked. It would be safest, and would make it a little easier to move through the crowds and gather the people they needed. Her gut twinged as she lowered herself from the carriage, though, and she doubted she would stray too far from the others once the event had begun.
Properly, she stood and waited, her face unconcerned and her chin up. She found herself avoiding looking at the costumes. They were a perverse display; being surrounded by people glorifying horns and tails and strange skin did not make her feel the way she had imagined it would as a child. She felt mocked and betrayed, even though she couldn't identify why. Her eyes trailed over to Desrick and Lohr, the other Cyndarans. It had to be so much worse to them.
Desrick did look disgusted, but Lohr seemed to be critiquing the costumes in relatively good nature. Crispin would probably laugh at them, too.
Ora frowned, briefly, and then went back to staring at the doors and waiting, begging her mind not to wander again.

 

[LazyDaze]

It was a blessing in disguise, being invited to the ball by Lassard himself. He was very fond of his new companions; however, being alone, aside from Azaria, gave him time to think. For most of the ride he sat, resting his head on his fist as he took in the scenery. Occasionally he would steal a few glances at Azaria, and each time he did he could feel a surge build up in his chest although he would hold the same neutral expression enhanced by the mask. She was beautiful, he did not think it was possible for someone like him to admire and care for someone so deeply. Having her there made him forget about his own ensemble which, like everyone else, was of a Cyndara theme...he went as the moon.

Iolas wore an all white suit lined with silver. His mask, also silver, was laced; however, it also covered most of his face, particularly on his right side. For this event, he had his hair slicked back, exposing the side of his face normally hidden by his bangs. The last of his accessories were the silver earrings that hooped through the trademark elven ears. Iolas did not like altering his appearance much, but seeing everyone's enthusiasm made him give in and go to a glamourist for a few mild touch ups. His light blonde hair was morphed into more of an icy blonde. His green eyes were altered to white, and last but not least he had the glamourist actually work on his suit so that it would appear to emit a faint glow, much like the moon in the night sky. Even though his appearance was altered, and his face was covered, he felt more exposed than usual, preferring the combination of his scarf and bangs.

-------------------​

It was a quite ride. He thought of many things at once as his thoughts turned into a quiet storm that was raging in his mind and soul. He thought of the mission, his friends, his past, how many people he had killed, Pyrrhus words of wisdom, Azaria, Lassard, death, and life. He stole another glance at Azaria, choosing to focus on one issue for now. He again recalled what Pyrrhus told him about her; however, he could not bring himself to say anything. Last time he opened his mouth a knife was sent straight to a heart that had just been pieced together. (It is likely she would rather I remain silent,) Iolas thought to himself. He wanted to give up again, but then he would have to hear from Pyrrhus...one of the few who could see through his jests and calm exterior.

"...Your dress..." Iolas began calmly, still choosing to look away towards the scenery. "....I like it....". When they arrived, Iolas stepped out first and held out his gloved hand to help Azaria down. He managed to smile, although every part of his body was against it. They were finally here.

Spoiler

Spoiler

Zazz SilverFlight

 

[Goonfire]

The masquerade was Crow’s most dangerous venture into hostile territory. He had a feeling by day’s end, he would be wishing to be back on the boat with only Lassard’s sword to his throat...

The young inquisitor had decided to step far out of his comfort zone. He opted to wear a shirt of dark, sheer fabric, along with a black, gold-trimmed vest. His sleeves’ embroidery gave the impression of wings. His pants had similar feather-like scrollwork along the sides, while his boots continued the motif in a unique way, growing less feathery, more elaborate, and terminating at the toes with an elegantly-embroidered talons pattern. He applied the body paint on his own, making sure his natural markings were perfectly traced so no light shined through. Crow then let a glamourist color his hair and irises black, and finally donned a beaked mask trimmed in feathers.

The carriage ride was rather quiet and tense on Crow’s end, as his partners would notice; he had read a copy of the guest list, which was enough to make him nervous. Archbishop Cautura would not be in attendance. Instead, Bishop Stenmann of Eskaro—his adoptive father—was coming, likely expecting to meet with his contacts. Even from out here, he could feel the high inquisitor’s piercing gaze cutting through the castle walls; the man had a terrifying presence that made a half-breed like Crow shiver. However, the strict Bishop was right at home among the other sharp-eyed nobles of Sumenna.

SilverFlight HumbugPie

 

[HumbugPie]

The carriage ride had made Pearl feel rather queasy, each bend in the road making her stomach jump in summersaults. Without her hat, she felt rather exposed. She knew that her hair often displayed her emotions without any of her input, so she'd have to be extra careful. Peering over to Crow, she saw the list of attendants in his hand. And although she couldn't make out the names, it made her nerves spike tremendously.

Her dress was made from cotton, the ends slowly tapering into cascading water and adorned with golden accents. Her mask was a gorgeous turquoise, each side decorated with shells, pearls and mini starfish. The tie was made from water itself, merging seamlessly into her hair around the back of her head.

Spoiler: Pearl's Outfit

"Good luck to us both, I say," she gave a supportive smile to Crow, hoping that they'd be able to calm down their nerves being in each others vicinity during the ball. Pearl was going over everything Gideon had said, remembering that manners and etiquette could be her down fall. Thinking over this, she tried to go over all of the lessons with Pyrrhus in her head, tirelessly picking out every little detail. If they spot one thing different about my behaviour, I'll be eaten alive.

With that thought, as they all exited the carriage, she whispered into Pyrrhus' ear: "thank you for the extensive lessons, I will make sure to put them to good use," she gave him a warm smile and a slight nod, "good luck to you too, Pyrrhus. I think we all deserve it tonight."

SilverFlight Goonfire

 

[SilverFlight]

The breath caught in Desrick's throat for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Seeing the sun turned on his partner's elegant clothes made them seem all the more splendid.
He chuckled at Lohr's reply, a rich, low sound, before following his gaze out over the crowd.
"No, I think it is safe to say that they have never been. And if this is what they honestly think of us...better it stay that way."
He offered his arm as Pyrrhus had carefully instructed, ready to lead the way up the steps.
Zazz

Pyrrhus took in the great marble steps, and the party-goers getting prepared to have a good time. Pearl took his attention and he bent so she could speak to him quietly.
"My lady, you will have them all falling at your feet. Do try and enjoy it. I'll be nearby if you need me."
HumbugPie

Crow's anxiousness did not escape Pyrrhus' careful eye. When he stepped out of the carriage it was written in every line of his body.
The centaur stepped closer, making his hooves as quiet at they could be. He bent low so his mouth came level with the inquisitor's ear.
"You look stunning." He whispered the words slowly and with gentle purpose. "Just breathe...I am right behind you."
Goonfire

Suddenly there came the ringing of a large bell and the guests turned as one. Pyrrhus watched the attendants barring the way step gracefully aside, and people began to filter in.
"Showtime." He whispered, trying to contain his excitement.

~*~*~

The hall was even larger than he had imagined it. Checkered floors with long ribbed columns ringing the oval space, supporting an open balcony. The entire space was lit by a massive glass skylight, almost as large as the dancing floor itself. Sunlight filtered through it, setting the floor aglow. There were three staircases, two twisting to the sides and back around to the center, while the central flight poured itself from the second story. The marble steps, white as snow, were draped in an ocean blue velvet carpet lined with gold thread. The balcony as well was covered in the carpet. Pyrrhus marveled to see every inch of spare space about the entire hall covered in plants. There were vines trailing down the banisters and around columns, ivy coiled about the white-cloth tables on the side, piled high with exotic foods. Orange and lemon trees towered in their intricately-glazed pots, their growth enhanced by magic. Trailing spanish moss spilled out from the balcony railing to ticked the tallest heads.

To one side, sititng in the center of the largest table was an ice sculpture of a rearing centaur, carved to realistic perfection, an arrow knocked on it's arcing bow.
In the center of all the splendour, in the middle of the ballroom floor, sat a pedestal, and on it, a domed, silver lid, etched in magic runes. From the size of it Pyrrhus guessed that what it concealed was roughly the size of a catapult stone.
"Welcome!" Shouted a voice from the top of the central staircase. He was thick-set and blond, his grey eyes bright with excitement. On his brow sat a circlet with the crest of the city. This, was the leader of house Brynson.
"It gives me great honour to share my home with such distinguished guests this day. We are here to honour the most high house, our brothers and sisters of Evereach."

As Desrick scanned the room he could pick them out. Even though they wore masks, and some had changed their skin, the high elves were unmistakable. Their slender grace and beauty put them aside from all others. On the second story balcony stood a figure that seemed bone-chillingly familiar.
"Lassard." He whispered, trying to catch Ora's eye. He pointed when he did.
Lassard wore a long coat that looked like it had been cut from the very skies of half-sun hills. The edges gleamed gold and bled upward into pink and then purple, ending a bruised indigo at his shoulders, with small points of light glittering amongst the strands of his white-blonde hair. His mask was the deepest blue, covering the upper half of his face. Delicate wings had been sculpted on wither side, curling down his cheeks. These too were blue and glittered with painted stars. He drew eyes wherever he walked, but his own were surveying the introduction with a cold purpose.

"We have a gift for our honoured guests tonight!" The host continued. "A very special relic, pulled from the ancient ruins underneath our new colony at the Shimmering Isles. I hope it will...enhance your experience, for today... we will take you to Cyndara." With the slightest of gestures the house head bade two doors beneath the staircases be opened.
Pyrrhus had to stifle a gasp as three centaurs stepped out from them. They had their heads down, the slave cuffs evident on their wrists.
Their skin was dark and shimmered with a deep, rust-red. Their pelts ranged from dusty grey to midnight black and stripes ran up their legs to fade at their equine chests and hindquarters. Their hair was the deepest black and braided with gold to match the cuffs. The two men were shirtless, the woman wore a slim gold bolero, sleeveless, and it left her midriff uncovered. All three of them looked miserable and frightened and Pyrrhus tensed beside Crow. Outrage sent his legs trembling.
They approached the pedestal and took hold of the handles at its base, unlocked the lid and lifted.

Pyrrhus started as darkness flew out from under the lid. It rose up and stifled the sun, pitching everything into an inky black. The crowd gasped and there were several screams.
He turned to look at the doors but they were still open. Sunlight should have been pouring through them, but outside it was as black as in. Then, his eyes began to adjust. For the Cyndarans it happened much more quickly. A soft light bade them look up.
Pyrrhus let out a breath at what he saw: Stars. Through the skylight, hundreds of stars, glittering timidly down upon them.
He looked back to the pedestal where the centaur slaves had taken away the lid fully now. In a silver holder, sat a crystal, not unlike the one that filled Delan with light...only this one was made of the absence of it. A black void that stole light instead of gave it. The crystal had turned every inch within the castle grounds to the deepest Cyndaran night.

Flutterby Goonfire Zazz LazyDaze mothspit HumbugPie

((Please read everything that is not specifically tagged for another person!))

 

[mothspit]

For the entire ride in the carriage, Trileon remained silent, her dark eyes looking through an ornate mask. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, adjusting the fabric of her dress with an uncomfortable scoff. Sumennans had the strangest practices.. This kind of clothing was not meant for climbing, let alone combat. Still, after a small consultation with her dear friend Pyrrhus, he crafted something beautiful for her, and for that she was thankful. To her right, Nova sat casually, similarly dressed in an elegant dress and mask. The two semi-muscular women looked at each other, and Nova leaned over to whisper something along the lines of "you look great, doll." Trileon smiled and returned the pleasantry, but seemed.. totally oblivious to Nova's advances.

It had been awhile since Nova last worn a dress-- A good few years, at least. She was more of a shirt-and-pants kinda gal. But, it was fun to put on a mask, secretly invade a castle with a colossal jerk, and hopefully kill him later down the road. Hopefully. Would they get paid for this? Probably not. Laamme.

Together, Nova and Trileon walked arm-in-arm alongside the others, though the blue skinned woman tore herself away from the mercenaries side to bask in pure awe at the sight of the castle. Her head turned upward to gaze at the tall pillars, the beautiful citrus trees, the impressive ice sculpture.. it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The craftsmanship of the Sumennans continued to amaze her. Nova watched her nearby, sure to keep on eye on the starstruck forestwoman, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Trileon reached out to touch one of the low-hanging fruits, but was abruptly interrupted by the booming voice of the head of house Bryson. Quickly rejoining the others, and the awaiting Nova with her hand outstretched, they watched the impressive display of light becoming dark. Now, it was Nova who was impressed-- She whistled a low whistle, placing both hands on her hips.

"Okay, admittedly, that was pretty cool."

Trileon looked over and noticed Pyrrhus' reaction. She too felt similar; It was disgusting how nobles like this treated those unlike them. She empathized with the poor centaurs.. Seeing her friend Crow, Trileon quietly slid over to his other side to whisper into his ear, "You look wonderful, my friend."

Spoiler: Trileon's Outfit

Spoiler: Nova's Outfit

Goonfire

 

[Flutterby]

Ora glanced over at the other three- Crow, Pearl, and Pyrrhus- as they waited. Crow had been studying the guest list as they arrived. She wondered why, if he thought he might know someone, and who that might be. She knew she would; she just didn't want to know who.
Finally, the bell tolled, and they were on the move. Ora entered calmly, her eyes already moving about the room. What a redecoration, she mused, noting that they must have had work done on the floor. The foliage they had brought in reminded her of the garden trend that had dominated parties one season.. she must have been only about seven years old then, it had been one of her first seasons.

Her eyes automatically began to scan the crowds, but she couldn't tell if anyone was familiar. The dwarves were very easy to pick out from the others, but with the passage of time and the masks.. well, she saw several that could have been from her generation, but couldn't be sure. It wasn't until the welcome had begun and Desrick had caught her eye that she saw someone she recognized. His point lead her to the last person she wanted to see.
Lassard was dressed as the sky of the Half-Sun Hills. Ora's lip curled. I bet he thinks his outfit quite poetic. Not that they weren't guilty of the same; Azaria was wearing stars, Iolas was coupled with her as the moon, and she had covered herself in her mother's blue and her mine's gold. The dwarf controlled her expression, and focused on the fact that something was happening at the pedestal. The centaurs that lifted the lid were an even more horrible reminder of the injustice praised here. Ora couldn't bring herself to glance at Pyrrhus. Her dress made a soft swish when her twitching tail ruffled it.

The change was more unsettling when it was instant. Even though Ora had experienced the Cyndaran darkness, having it tangibly rush at her, a charging horse of pure black, still drew a sharp gasp. A woman next to her screamed outright, Ora felt her grab at her arm and then at her partner's. Ora waited for a larger cry to rise in the city outside, to resound across the county, but none came.
The nobles around her were looking for any source of light, and they found it above their head. The stars were in Sumenna, too, and Ora absently fingered a pearl near her ear.
I don't want to be here. The strength of it actually brought tears to her eyes. She hoped the people around her would think her overwhelmed by the showmanship. She brought her eyes down. It reminded her of a hunk of ore, but just like the crystal in Delan, there was that sense of the possibility of an amorphous life-force pressing outward. It terrified her, instead of inspiring her. What does this mean?

 

[SilverFlight]

Out from the darkness, servants came from the periphery of the ballroom holding candles of blue flame. They lifted them up and they began to float. Soon there were dozens of them, tiny orbs of light floating above the dance floor, little droplets of wax that had come away orbiting them like tiny moons.
The crowd began to relax and then exclaim in awe. There was a faint echo of appluase which grew until the entire hall was clapping.
Desrick had to admit, it was a very good show, but the crystal worried him. It was so similar in feeling to Delan's light crystal, and yet the exact opposite, somehow he knew that its darkness had a limited range, much like Delan's light...and both were now in the grasp of Evereach. This could not bode well.
The guests began to mill about, greeting each other and mingling. Nobody paid the infiltrators any mind.
@ everyone

From a shadowy nook by the door a figure stood, tall for a dwarf, and thin, but he wasn't a dwarf, though he was watching Ora intently. The colour of his eyes was hidden by shadow. He began to move, circling the space. He was dressed in green, a pale green shirt with belled sleeves and a dark, forest-green vest, the embroidery magicked to look like leaves with the sun pouring through them. His trousers were matching forest green and made of soft velvet. He wore white gloves and on his face was a half-mask, hiding the top part of his face. The bird's beak was thin and it sported a glorious crest of black-tipped feathers, fanning out in a semi-circle above the head, the rest of it was gold with accents of orange and green. To anyone in Sumenna it would just have been an imaginative likeness of a bird, but anyone who had seen one of Cyndara's messengers, would be able to mark right away that this was what it was.
Then, he seemed to make a decision and, with slow purpose, approached her on silent feet.
He didn't speak until he had stopped right in front of her, the moss-green of his eyes was distinct now, and even in the blue light of the candles, one could plainly see the fire-orange colour of his wild, curly hair. When he spoke, his voice and his accent were very familiar...and very Cyndaran.
"A very good night to you, I...don't suppose you would care to dance?"
Flutterby

 

[HumbugPie]

Pearl nodded to Pyrrhus, offering him an encouraging expression as the group walked into the ballroom. The warm sunlight coming from the large glass domed roof hit her dress, creating a beautiful waved effect on the floor; as if those around her were under the sea. It danced about, painting turquoise and azure tones onto the chequered flooring.

Taking her partner's hand, she looked around in utter amazement, until the signs of Evereach and Summenan culture hit her: the sculpture of the centaur made her heart drop into her feet and the exotic fruit bowls reminded her of home - she knew of trading between the Crystal Islands and House Brynson, but to think the Evereachs would literally be eating the fruits of her people's labour hit like an arrow to the chest.

Bringing her out of her daze, the loud, booming voice coming from the balcony made her hair wave much more dramatically. She clenched Crow's hand tighter. Maybe they'll think I'm stunned by the appearance of the Evereachs... That I am, but in a very different context. Pearl listened closely to what the leader of House Brynson had to say: the most high house? You've got to be kidding me. In all her shock, the tall ears, blond hair and elven hight of the high elves made her wonder if there were any of her kind to be seen. If there were, she hoped they'd be just as angry at the Evereachs as her, but she knew that'd be a stretch. Though the scandal in Sapphire Shores had caused outrawr, there were still those who defended the dispicable actions of House Evereach and those were most likely to be the ones attending the occasion.

The appearance of the slaves made Pearl's eyebrows arch downwards. She swayed her head toward Pyrrhus, his despair turning her watery blood from a warm, tropical temperature to a cold, unappealing one. The realisation of how horrible it must be to see those of the same race as you be in such a hopeless situation and being unable to help made her want to turn around and run away, but they were there for a reason. And maybe their efforts would lead to equality for all.

Her eyebrows still arched like that of someone experiencing agony, the sudden and unexpected darkness made Pearl blind for a while. She grabbed onto Crow's arm, darting her head about until her eyes came round; severe panic filling her brain. This was the first time she had experienced darkness. It was terrifying and extraordinarily beautiful at the same time. The dim glow of the lights made her relax, each magical pulse of their flames calming her nerves, but she still kept a rather strong grip on her partner's hand. She knew that the show was to keep those around her preoccupied and that she must keep her eyes on the ball.
SilverFlight Goonfire

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe grinned brightly and took Desrick's arm, his white fangs gleaming in the sunlight. This was a new experience, and he would have his very best friend by his side. He only wished that his mother would be happy with his choices.

Elsewhere, Azaria took Iolas's arm with a cheeky smirk. "Oh, is that all you like?" Her gaze flitted over his suit. "You make a decent moon, yourself." She gently steered him to the upper level, instead of mingling with the others. She wanted to be able to see everything and everyone. She would rather find Lassard before he found any of them. Leaning in to whisper in Iolas's ear, like any couple, the assassin said, "Something feels... off." She narrowed her green eyes as she scanned her surroundings discreetly from behind the railing. Her hand tensed at her partner's arm when she spotted the bastard dressed as the Half-sun Hills. Azaria took hold of Iolas's hand and slid between him and the railing, facing him. Quietly, so that only he could hear, she said, "Behind me, and six to your right." She placed her hands on his chest, as though she were admiring his outfit.

Down below, Lohrithe watched in awe with the rest as darkness befell the great room. Stars twinkled above, and for once, gis eyes did not feel like they were being pried from his skull in this hellish land. But, he wondered, if the stars were here, in Sumenna... how did that work? Was Cyndabrynde keeping the sun at bay? Or was the sun Summerbrynde's rebellion against his sister's beautiful world? What would happen if both kinds of crystals were put near each other? Who of the gods would win? ...which crystal was of which god?

 

[LazyDaze]

Iolas was impressed yet taken aback by her spontaneity as she took his arm. He was not prepared for such a gesture although it was probably obvious they would have to interact in some way. Her first comment, or taunt, surprised him even more as he closed his eyes as a guilty chuckle escaped his lips. "Are you asking me to incriminate myself," Iolas stated in an almost too innocent manner. She was right, the dress was merely an accessory; however, Iolas would rather answer this in the usual round about way. "The moon can only shine within the embrace of the night sky," Iolas responded again with a smile.

While being steered to the upper level for reasons unknown, Iolas noticed that Azaria seemed to be moving with a clear purpose, an intent beyond exploring and admiring the scene playing out before them. He allowed himself to be dragged to the end so that he could ascertain this intent as he took in everything around him. This was his first social gathering in a long time, he wished it was under better circumstances. After reaching the upper deck Iolas noticed that there were less people to be noticed. They were alone, well as alone as one could get at such a grand event. (For what purpose did she separate from everyone?)

Iolas remained composed when she leaned in, he did not draw a breath lest it become a gasp to control his breathing. His only movement came from the twitch of his ears responding to the sound of her voice; however, what she uttered sent a chill down his spine. It was obvious in hindsight; however, sometimes even the obvious is invisible until someone points it out to us. Something was indeed off. Iolas smiled mischievously as his eyes darted around as if a great calamity was just around the corner. To onlookers it would seem as harmless flirtation. "Indeed, I was beginning to think it was me." When she slid in between him and the railing Iolas smiled to hide his embarrassment in such a situation in which he was supposed to be focused on the matter soon to be at hand instead of his primal instincts. It appeared on the surface that she was not completely repulsed by him, so that was a positive sign to say the least; however, it could all just be her doing her job. Even now Iolas would have to mentally check himself as he found himself flooded with thoughts that did not pertain to the mission. He needed to focus...but he couldn't.

Upon hearing her instruction Iolas placed his hand gently on her exposed cheek as he appeared to be looking right into her eyes; however, his attention was elsewhere as he opted to place more focus on his peripheral vision instead of completely turning around. He made out the image and then finally shot a quick glance to take in the unfocused image, Lassard. Iolas smiled when he saw him as he suddenly regretted not killing him on the ship although he was not sure if he would have been able to in the first place. Even with all that was happening, Iolas could not ignore the brief tension he felt from Azaria right before Lassard's entrance. He tilted her chin ever so slightly as he remained close enough for her to here him clearly. "...Stay composed, he is not alone." Iolas then pressed forward slightly with Azaria still in front of him as he placed his right hand on the rail and made a slight gesture toward the host who appeared to be preparing something. Almost immediately the doors were open and the centaur slaves had arrived and revealed a mysterious crystal that turned day into night leaving everyone in terror, awe, and confusion while Iolas maintained his composure outside of a brief flinch. It was beautiful; however, their was an ominous atmosphere...perhaps this was what gave Azaria pause, or maybe it just begun. He looked up at the stars, and their black canvas as he took it all in...the night sky.

"...You wear it better."

Zazz