The Grand Ball.

[Vanidor]

The Hawk's Talon had flown steady for the better part of two days in order to arrive here at just the proper moment. That was; Not too soon, and certainly not too late. An almost regular sight in the skies these days as the personal vessel of the Thesil Ambassador, the old airship was coming down out of the hazy sky to hover atop the estate. Men scurried about to unhook the rigging, tossing over the side a platform wide enough to allow a small number of people access to the ground. A might unsteady what with the down-beat of air and magic that bled from the craft, but it was better than jumping out and hoping for the best!

Three individuals had stepped out onto the platform, all three dressed in finery fit to set tongues flapping. That two were soldiers were obvious, from the way they carried themselves (and their curved sabre's of course). They wore long paneled coats of gold cloth, with ebon knotwork at the wrists and crimson hawks upon their breasts. Alabaster were their fitted leather breeks, tucked and folded to fit snugly into knee-high cavalry jack boots. Embroidered vermillion baldrics crossed the chest of each, a total of nine studs flashing in the waning daylight. They were oddly magnificent.

The third, however, was far more regal. His head canted at just a certain angle, the fading summer sun glinting against the silver circlet that wound a course above his temples. Dark hair had been brushed and worked until it shone as well, then braided into an almost simple plait that ran down the middle of his wide back. He took the trip down with aplomb, used to this sort of departure from his beloved vessel whenever he was in Ricathair. He was the first off when the platform touched the surface.

The motion caused his voluminous robes to sway with his step, the blood-red fabric rippling between him and the two Companions. Upon the chest, situated above his heart, was an embroidered golden hawk, the claws of which were grasping at sheaves of wheat and bundles of fish. The sigil of Almark that, married as it were to the heraldry of Thessilane itself. His eyes, a blue so pallid that they almost seemed white in certain light, made a quick course of the views before him. A cant of his head, causing earrings of sapphire and emeraldine to sway against his neck.

His voice was soft, intended for the pair that traveled with him. "Come now, Gentlemen. Let us let Captain de'Varrin take his crew and visit some pubs and other such dens of ill-repute. We have finer entertainment to attend." Whatever response the two soldiers made was lost in the creak of the platform retracting into the sky, the slender airship moving away and towards Myrken itself. With one last glance at the departing vessel, the man would make his way slowly towards the entrance, a slow smile creeping upon his face.

[Raven]

Descant was kind of in a mixed mood about it all, mostly he was very happy with how things had progressed. A smaller part was frowning away on the inside, quite unhappy with some of the looks that Drache had recieved. Unfortunately there wasn't too much he could do about it past what he'd already done. So, there's no point dwelling on the bad times, most well make the most of the good ones. At least while they lasted. Which he was becoming somewhat cynical about. Clearly the Myrken mindsight was beginning to take it's toll on the bard's optimistic outlook.

At the tone of her voice when she tells him that she'd happily mingle with him up until it came time to dance, the bard would look somewhat put out. If he thought he could pull off a pout he most definitely would.

"That sounds entirely too much like you -won't- be dancing with me?"

There'd be a healthy amount of hurt pushed into those words. How could she accompany him and then leaving him hanging like that? Sigh. Gloved hand, the one not entwined with Drache's, would rub at his chin in a moment of consideration. There were quite a few people that he wanted to run into and converse with this night, as he was sure that Drache herself likely had people that she'd want to catch up with as well. Maybe they should split up for a bit? It'd give him time to do some mingling all of his own. It'd also be useful to check that his mandora was still in one piece.

As was typical of the bard, he was pretty oblivious to any troubles that may or may not have arisen. He certainly didn't appear as keen-sensed as Drache was about sniffing out possible trouble. Likely if he knew how invaluable her help would be in that sense, he'd keep her close the whole night. Since he couldn't reach a decision, there'd be no other course but to see what his companion wanted to do. Des didn't think she'd want to just be dragged around by the bard either. She might view that as a bit demeaning.

"The way you're looking around everywhere, makes me feel kind of insignificant. Did you want to catch up with someone?"

Which was kind of an underhanded way of asking that question if ever there was one. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to part ways with the dragon-lady after all.

[Drache]

The dragon-lady looked across at the bard, one of her scaly brows arched in surprise. A flicker of uncertainty entered the amber gaze. Of course she didn't want to be toted around like a pet on a leash for the whole night, but she wasn't sure what else to do with her time. She knew so few people, most of whom she'd already greeted and watched sweep off to go about having a good time.

She considered her reputation, knowing that each thing she did would add or subtract to it. The things she considered fun often didn't go over well, and she didn't want to come out of this looking like a crude, senseless beast.

And Des, damn him, had a knack for making her feel misunderstood and defensive. Wasn't she -supposed- to be making herself known? Hadn't he -recommended- her mingle and introduce herself? She felt she was getting mixed messages and her wings shifted subtly to reveal her frustration.

"I thought you sssaid you had other things to do. Aren't you going to get out your mandora?" she countered. But her expression softened somewhat, revealing the nervous maid underneath. "I didn't expect you to want to danccce with me, but if you do you could jussst asssk." She wondered why her heart felt tight and eyed the swirling people moving in time to the music. At least this number wasn't terribly complicated.

"There isn't really anyone... I wanted to make sure Catch was enjoying himself" and not causing trouble "but I think I have greeted everyone I know. You are the one with the schedule to keep, Bard." So there.

[Altias_Bromn]

"Well, looks like the old ball and chain has shown up for the party after all."

Altias watched the airship, and its passengers, with curiosity from his resting place against the tree. He really had no desire to go inside, especially now that the man who most certainly must be Lamai's husband had arrived. He knew many things about himself, the fact that he could not keep his mouth shut when it mattered was one of those things. He'd say something. She'd say something. The husband would say something. Swords would be drawn, noses broken, blood spilled, evening ruined. Yes, it was best he just stayed out here.

Watching people come and go he had noted people who were vaguely familiar, others who stirred no memory at all. The man in the silver mask set his skin to bristle, though he did not know why. Perhaps it was enough that this man arrived with his face hidden. Goodness knows that in Myrken nothing is as it seems, but at least it puts on a good face. To have one hide their face, that was alarming from the start.

If he had been inside, if he had seen silver-mask approach Lamai, the building would no doubt already be filling with blood, or on fire, or some such nonsense. It was best he remained out here in the cool evening air, where he was no danger to anyone but himself.

[Vanidor]

His feet were encased in soft-soled slippers, and they made barely a sound as he moved with calculated steps across the 'yard. Fingers flashed with ostentatious jewelry. Firedrops, rubies, emeralds, sapphires. Even a red-spotted bloodstone draped this Magistrate of the Crimson (some said Bloody!) Duke. One hand held lightly to a cane of dark wood, with a cap of silvery metal that had inlays of jade and obsidian. It tapped lightly upon the ground as he moved.

Once inside, a motion of that cane would send one of the golden warriors to a side, whilst the other continued along in his Lord's wake. The Crimson Ambassador moved along slowly, politely ignoring questions (and looks as it would happen) as he made way for the Dragon-kin and her Companion. The information he had acquired said that these were the ones hosting the gala. It was poltically respectful that one would greet them first before all others. Even a wife, though his eye had spotted her immediately upon his entrance. She would understand, and then throttle him most likely. Surprises and all.

And so, it would seem they were near the tables. It was fitting, and good fortune. The Baron was somewhat hungry. A motion of a finger sent the Companion with him to the food tables, to look over and pick a few things for his master it would seem. Christoph himself would slide up slowly to the Bard and Drake-Scion. His smile would be honestly genuine, causing lines of mirth to form at the corners of his eyes and the juncture of lips.

"Madam Sgarsiath." His command of draconic was actually rather good, to tell the truth. Only a slight hint of an accent as he pronounced the dragon-woman's name. Those pallid eyes danced next to the Bard. What did his wife call him? The 'Gentleman Bard'? His lips twitched again slightly. "Master Descant."

The man bowed slightly, the hand not attached to the cane coming up to press against his heart as he did so. The cane was behind his back as he made the motion. He -reeked- of magic. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Christoph al'Nerun, of Thessilane. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My Lady-Wife has said many wonderful things about you." No need to weigh anyone down with the many titles he had now. Light above, sometimes he wished he could shed a few himself!

In any case, he smiled again, tilting his head to focus upon both of them almost at once.

[Drache]

The Dragoness found her conversation with the Bard interrupted most politely by a man whose sense of style was after her own heart. Gleaming amber eyes with catlike pupils settled on Christoph's face, having taken in his jewelry at a mere glance as soon as she noticed him. Here was a man of some importance, she knew, and by his smile she was relieved to realize she would be getting a proper introduction and would not be forced to resort to a whispered query to the Bard once Christoph had moved out of earshot.

The expression on her refined yet scaly visage was one of pleased surprise when he greeted her, not only first, but in Draconic as well. What didn't surprise her was that he already knew her name. Of course he did. She didn't wait for Des before replying. Some rules of human etiquette were so silly, anyways.

"A pleasure to meet you Lord Chrissstoph al'Nerun of Thesssilane," she returned in her native language, offering the highest respect she could by repeating the full title as she knew it. If he had been heralded upon his entrance, she would have addressed him with the entire recitation. It was a dragon thing. She was acutely conscious that in this place, none of her own titles would make any sense. She supposed that meant she should earn herself some more! She bent her torso forward and bowed slightly, the spikes of her wings arcing over the top of her shoulders while the trailing edge lifted behind her, thankfully not jostling anyone in the process. Her tail swished once. Dragons didn't curtsy.

A quick glance over all the people staring, and this time not at her, told her a lot about this man.

After standing straight again and switching back to the Common tongue, "I'm honoured that your mate thinksss ssso highly of me. I hope you enjoy our party, dessspite your recccent travel."

Above everything else, the magic she could sense emanating from this man took her by surprise and earned much respect. She hadn't met anyone quite that powerful since she came here. So inclined, he might notice that almost every single one of the baubles she flaunted had power of their own. She hoped that at some point she might converse with Christoph, and privately lamented how humans like this one often had too much going on in their lives for that sort of thing.

[Pantha]

==========Zilliah=========

There would be the slightest rustle in the branches over Altias’s head. It had been several days since Zilliah had last been at Bromn’s side. He said nothing aloud or mentally to his governor, glowing pale orbs just gazing down at him with his head cocked to the side. The fae hadn’t been invited as such, but one of his nature had no problem catching wind of the shin dig. And of course Lamai would be there with her new man and thus his governor was likely to be lurking around to keep an eye on her. So there he was, perched up above him in the tree, a worried smile gracing his lovely face. He hasn’t bothered to put on any fancy garb for the social gathering. He wore his simple, loose linen green pants and fitted leather tunic. His lavender hair was pulled back in a glossy braid, a silver tiara carefully interwoven through the tresses. The apex came down to delicately frame the gem of his third eye.

[Dulcie]

The ballroom was certainly a sight to see for Dulcie, her hazel eyes taking in all the details and the finery as she and Sarcyn moved inside of the building. She couldn't help but to steal another look at her escort with a bit of a grin that came to her lips before she leaned in towards him, offering a quiet comment.

"You look splendid all dressed up. Although I have to say I highly doubted I'd be seeing you in a shirt like that." She couldn't resist a night out without some teasing at least, waiting for response when Drache would come up beside her to comment on her hair, something that drew a broad smile from the innkeeper.

"Oh thank you! It's all of my sisters' talents and none of my own I assure you. The twins should be wandering about here somewhere, probably with Nela trying to arrange dancing partners for them I'm sure. You look lovely yourself, all that jewelry!" She commented, noting all the finery that the half-dragon wore while she herself had chose to attend without any jewelry at all.

As Dulcie chatted for the moment with Drache before the dragoness moved on her gaze would drift over towards Catch, James, Lamai and Thadius finding herself pressing her lips together a bit in concern. Likely her companion would feel the way she had tensed a little, watching the four of them on the dance floor.

"Let's go dance." She'd say softly to Sarcyn, her hazel eyes leaving the four people for a moment to look back at her escort. "I'll feel better when I'm close enough to see what's going on."

[Thadius Dhrin]

Thadius Dhrin was far more refined and elegant than most might recall. He turned the tiny woman onto the dance floor with grace, a formal bow, a smile beneath that mask.

"You honor me, Lamai."

As they moved across the floor he allowed his gaze to meet with her own, carefully examining her new eyes.

"A gift from your new love? Interesting that something given to a God, taken by a God, can be returned, and so beautifully. Who did this, and why?"

His gloved hand would hold her tight at the waist, pulling her tiny frame close to him. They would be a bizarre looking pair, he nearly half again as tall as she, silky pure white hair trailing behind him, escaping from that strange silver mask. A strange disjointed beauty to them as the moved across the floor.

"You do not plan to stay, pet. I can feel it. I can feel the safety it fills you with, knowing you will soon enough be free of this place, of these hateful people, and of the likes of me. I am certain you could not stay around Altias for long before your love and your hatred of him begins to surface again. It is good that you shall soon run away home. Back to the safety of your guards and your lovers. But for now...let me enjoy your gaze...for as long as you have it."

[Altias_Bromn]

Altias would look upward at the rustling and see the lovely lavender lad, dressed in gentle greens of the wood, silver sparkling at his brow. Suddenly there was a smile on his lips. A slender hand would reach up toward the branches, silently bidding him to come down and join him.

"There seems to be a party in desperate need of beautiful people. What say we remedy that for them, hmm? What is a party without dazzling good looks and charm?"

He would laugh softly, waiting for Zilliah to join him, that hand still extended, beckoning, offering promises of dances and drinks and many delights to come...after the party.

[Lamai]

Lamai recalled. Thadius was a deceptive, noble-blooded bastard. He could walk toe to toe in any court he wished. It was part of the chemistry between them. Many in Myrken assumed that she had married up by joining with Christoph al'Nerun. In truth, it was quite the opposite. They both knew it.

Those eyes stared up at him in steady defiance, as if the mere fact that she could stare up at him was enough to irritate. Likely, it was enough to irritate. Every step he led was one that she followed; they danced a close-set manner that allowed voices to stay quiet.

"Your God is not the only one, Thadius," Lamai reminded him coolly, though there was an upturn to her mouth that was almost malicious. That was as much an answer as he was going to get. Did he think himself able to ask and have her tell him? Truly?

"I do not plan to stay. It is true," the smaller healer agreed with far too much ease. Her smile darkened just a touch, firm and promising and challenging. "Eventually, my tasks here will be done, and I'll be able to return to my husband and country."

Of course, her tasks could be any number of things.. especially now that he was there. Michael had already shown himself. Now Thadius. Did they hope she would run home with her tail between her legs? Those beautiful eyes narrowed as he turned her 'round and 'round, and her focus was entirely upon her dance partner to the exclusion of all else.

[Thadius Dhrin]

As their bodies glided across the floor, for a moment they could have been any noble couple in the world. Both beautiful and practiced, learned and coiffed. A motion of his gloved hand and the silver mask simply faded away. Lamai was able to see his face, his beautiful face, for the first time since she had lost her eyes.

"More than my God...oh of that I am painfully aware, Lamai. When was the last time anyone heard from my God? I can tell you it has been just as long for me."

A finger would move to brush across her cheek, just below her beautiful new eyes. A smile, perhaps it was even genuine, as he watched her. A practiced hand would spin the small woman, before drawing her close to him once more.

"Things have changed for many of us Lamai, myself included. That is the funny thing about living, it is never quite what we expect it to be. Always changing, ever evolving. We must learn and grow and change with it. You know this, as I do. I'd come to kill her you know."

It was a sudden change of subject, but strangely it made sense. Who had he come to kill? He said her, not you, so obviously it was not Lamai. Who else would have have had wish to kill, that was female. Only one would make sense. Only one would hold enough hatred in his heart to bring him back here from wherever he had been all this time.

"The She Wolf is gone, isn't she Lamai? I can not even feel her presence in the heart of that ridiculous Bromn. My Eyes have not seen her here in a very long time. My Eyes in fact only informed me of you...and so I came back. If I can't have her, at least I could visit such a dear...friend."

The laughter that came was gentle, almost like a lover's laugh. Even as they spoke he continued to dance with her, as if they were nothing less than old friends.

[Pantha]

Zilliah would pause with a conflicted look. The hermit in him made him dislike the idea of so many people in one place. To him, the inevitable drone of half intoxicated thoughts were bound to eventually annoy him. But how could he say no to his dear Lord? He leaps down from the lower branches and takes the governor's hand obediently. The lovely outfit that Altias wore was flattering on the red haired man but he was not so foolish to think they had been worn for him. Though he was certainly guilty of many other sins, envy didn't seem to be one of them, but that didn't make the emotion alien to him and he readied himself should Lamai brandish her mean looks his way. Or Altias could also be the first to display disdain or lust for her. Then he is standing squarely on the solid ground again, he wraps his bracelet jingling arms about Bromn for a warm hug and a deep kiss. His voice whispers lightly in his mind. ~Good Evening, My Lord..."

[Lamai]

"There are nothing more than ghosts, Thadius," Lamai almost seemed to be assuring him. He was gorgeous. It was a pity that so much poison resided in such a beautiful package. When he touched her, she actually turned her head away from the familiarity.

"Do not, Thadius. I am bound to another; I will not accept your familiarity." It didn't even matter that she hadn't seen the stir around the companions and who they accompanied. Lamai was a faithful creature, and Christoph had saved her life -- whereas Thadius had only tried to ruin it.

"She is not here. If that is your only wish, then perhaps you should take your doctor with you and find another hole to torment. I will not hope to think that perhaps I can turn you away from your wickedness," though Lamai would've still tried. If there had been hope, she would have tried.

[Raven]

Descant certainly didn't mean to send opposing signals, it was just rather unfortunate that he tended to unconciously manipulate. Drache also seemed to be entirely too susceptible to his button pushing and that was making it quite fun to tease her so. It'd take the bard actually noting her growing confusion at his words to realise that he was obviously getting his own agenda mixed up in baiting Drache into awkwardness.

Oh he did have things to do, promises to keep, but there was one chief amongst them that he did want to address before the night progressed too far. There'd be a dismissive gesture to her first line of questioning. Other things could wait, his mandora would hopefully be ready for him when he went to reclaim it. More importantly he'd give her a roguish grin at him only having to ask if he wanted to dance. Of course he did. Among the myriad of reasons he'd invited her was for the very specific purpose of dancing with her.

"I asked you to be my companion. It'd be odd if I -didn't- want to dance with you, don't you think?"

Before he'd be able to lead her onto the dance floor, they'd be intercepted by a most decandently dressed Baron. There'd be a hint of surprise on Des' features at this most unexpected surprise. Not that there'd be opportunity for one to note as formal introduction is made, the bard would instantly cover up amazement with a flourish of a bow in return. Obeisance such a honed gesture that Descant would be instantly returned to his usual form.

"A pleasure Lord al'Nerun. Welcome to our most humble gathering."

To anyone else, Des might find it necessary to interject and state that he preferred to be known as Descant or more simply Des. This time however, he just keeps his mouth shut. He'd certainly never offered up any titles of his own. Hell, he'd never even volunteered his last name. It was amazing how much people would overlook if you offered smiles and amiable companionship.

There'd be no hint of him either knowing the language of dragonkin or picking up on the Baron's magical strength. Instead he'd quite happily let Drache do all the talking, strangely enough. It gave him the opportunity to study both his companion as she'd perked right up at getting to both speak her native tongue and talk to someone of some import. Not to mention the fact that he'd get to inspect the good Baron as well.