RP:Of Bats and Spiders

Synopsis: Daath takes over the Masquerade Ball that Larewen had arranged.

Vailkrin Great Hall

The Great Hall of Vailkrin has been transformed into a celebration of everything dark, foreboding and undead and vampiric. This evening was originally intended to be Larewen Dragana’s attempt to smooth over ever-growing tensions among noble houses, but in her absence (which has been the talk of the town these past few days) the dark elf Daath D’Artes has stepped forth to ensure things continued. With all resources at his disposal, and the approving nods of key House Elder’s, the former necromancer’s guild headmaster has managed to bring a last-minute idea into fully realized extravaganza. His focus this eve has been on everything vampire, from the décor to the food and everything else in between, and he has spared no expense whatsoever. The room has been cleared out of the large tables that once dominated the immediate area, freeing space so a larger crowd can fit with ease. The room itself is lit by floating wisps of faerie fire that dance about the great hall by magical enchantment. Harmless enough, the pale blue, green and violet flames contrast well enough with the dark stone and color scheme. The sigils of each noble house are draped over the walls in an orderly fashion, almost as if in a manner that speaks of each houses allegiance and sworn enemy. None are positioned as to rise above the others though. A stage has been set up for a later performance off to the left side, with full velvet curtain and lighting set up as to make one wonder what mystery awaits them from behind it’s barrier. One the right side of the great hall is the food and drink. Two tables of notable length: One for human food with an open bar on the opposite end is serving simple yet delicious delicacies, and the other is set up for the undead and vampires to enjoy. From raw flesh cut up and garnished expertly, to blood sausage and pickled eyeballs on other trays. Its perhaps the “open bar” on the other end of this table, opposite of the other bar, that seems to have already gained some attention. While Steadmen is available to serve drinks (having been borrowed from the Hanging Corpse Tavern this night), there is also next to him a row of blood donors of various races. All willing participants who enjoy being a “meal on wheels” for their vampire overlords stand ready to be bitten, a source of fresh “from the tap” blood for those who prefer authentic over blood wine. All in all, as the crowd starts to gather in, various masks and elegant costumes standing out, the party starts to kick off.

Seteth rubbed his white-gloved hands together for warmth. His breath appeared as a mist in front of his face and his wounded arms ached miserably. The cold had rarely bothered the young thief, but the magic shackles encircling his wrists had proven worse than mere drains on his nimbleness. It seemed to Seteth that every week heralded fresh news of another damnable side effect. This week, he was being treated to cold-prompted sensations which were surely everyday life for arthritic elders the world over. ‘Guess it’s a good thing I’ll probably die young,’ Seteth thought. Cynicism and self-doubt were commonplace in the thief’s private moments. The equanimity he outwardly projected was as good a mask as any for the pending masquerade. Watching from behind an obsidian pillar as a celebratory crowd gathered by the entrance to the city of vampires’ imposing capital structure, he waited until an especially thick flock passed him by and then stepped into its circumference with the stealthy grace of a man merging into a watercolor painting. Seteth traveled alongside his chosen group, keeping with their pace but doing so in a quiet enough manner that none of his fellow partygoers so much as glanced in his direction. Seteth ensured he was properly dressed for House Nasar’s evening ball, donning the best suit his limited money could buy. He wore an overcoat with gold-colored buttons and so striking a shade of red that his hair looked almost brown by comparison. Beneath the overcoat was a puffed white silk shirt, carefully buttoned nearly to his neck. His pants were a matching silken white and his shoes were halfway between a male dancer’s preferred footwear and a woman’s wedding slippers. Seteth wore no jewelry save for a polished silver ring with an Amyran insignia -- the crest of an eagle mid-flight.

Nasada || With quiet and careful steps guided by the gentle glow of the malachite scythe, the robed figure known as Sister Solarus makes her way into the Great Hall. She wasn't even sure that she were going to come in the first place, what with the ball being a place of gathering for the Houses of the dark city. She had been invited as another person entirely, but there was hardly enough time since then to have found a proper dress. Instead, the disguised necromancer thought it might be a good opportunity to observe those that are more apt to pledge fealty to the God of Death, Vakmatharas. She entered with her finest embroidered priestess robes of crimson, gold, and black, with a featureless gold mask as the face to greet the guests. It is with hopes that to any who are not permanent residents of Vailkrin, that she would not really look so out of the ordinary, while the scythe itself would mask her human nature to any that were of undead blood.

Odhranos peeps curiously into the hall, like a shy animal, seeming fully ready to scarper at the first loud noise. It had been a significant time since the terramancer had attended any similar event and he was ill-accustomed to the affair. Taking a moment to straighten his suit, the mage hesitantly sets off into the breach. Dressed in a two piece suit cut from a charcoal grey fabric, Odh cuts a modest figure, offset by the ever present golden spherical cage slung on it's strap about his shoulders (strap and cage had received a special polish just for the occasion), while the one nod to flamboyancy lay in his mask. Starting at the bridge of his nose and spreading outwards to encircle his eyes, small, intricately carved hematite shards adorn the Mage's face, which shine a glossy black-silver in the arcane light. Towards the extremities of the mask, the shards lighten and glint a ghostly silver on the left and a warm shining gold on the right, mirroring Odhranos' mismatched eyes. Said eyes are gazing around the hall concernedly, there doesn't seem to be a single face he recognises. The downside to going on sabbatical, no doubt.

Penelope never rested a foot in Vailkrin out of other people resisting her approach, though curiosity strikes the—human. The day was perfect, for everyone was dressed in anonymous apparel. The girl enters the hall with a silken honey gown with a slit in the leg. The gown hugs her petite form, and the fabric gathers at the bosom and the back of her dress is open to reveal bare skin. The mask that rests on her face is half a mask. The mask is gold, and it looks like vines that are wrapped around her moss green eye. Her other eye has rhinestones that are stuck underneath her eye and her make-up is subtle, but noticeable all the same. Her eyes are painted with a light colored golden sparkle with a painted eye-liner to make a cat-eye. Her frizzy hair is tied in a low messy bun with strands sticking out, but is somehow still elegantly placed. Anyone who knew Penelope knows that frizzy hair of hers, but her face is painted enough for people to be slightly shocked that she actually can, in fact, wear make-up. She wanders across the way, automatically going towards the human direction and grabs a glass of champagne. The woman then walks slowly towards the vampire munchies table and stares with a cant head in a paused position. After all, this will be a first being in the world of the dark.

Raphaline has been here in the hall for quite some time. Between the practices for tonight and the setting up of the stage, you would think that the bard would be hiding out back stage. Instead, she is dressed to the nines for a quick tour around the room. She slips out from behind the curtain and steps down off the stage and into the foray. Her dress is made of tiny crystals all carefully sewn together to create an ‘ice-like’ effect when they catch the lights spread throughout the room. The dress is high necked, extends out to her wrists and then flows all the way to the floor. Her mask has a similar style: silver velvet with bits of crystal that outline her eyes and the edges of the mask.

Galina entrance to vailkrin city and to the masquerade ball had been infiltrated in silver gown that covered her legs quite well, that is if she had had the courage to use legs. She hadn't so she had gone with her coils, thankfully the hem of her dress hid most of her lower naga form, while the top part brought to better consideration. She sported no jewels around her neck nor on her arms, her budget having left her only to the used dress she had bought, her dark ebony drow like skin exposed on her arms and generous bosom which was revealed by plunged V neck. Her white hair, tied neatly behind her head by a simple silk cord, and the mask she wore was that of ornament, pale and white without exposure of her face, leaving but her emerald green eyes to look out of the sockets. The six foot and a little more woman slithered as unnoticeable as she could trying to fake the legs she had never used. Her stomach grumbled having had little to eat in these past few days because of her small budget, so she moved towards the food, quick to prepare a plate of whatever was edible be it normal or exotic.

Laharl smooths our his tuxedo as he moved through the grand doors and into the ballroom proper. A moment taken to glance about the room but his gaze was momentarily stolen by the massive light source for the hall itself. Imagining what that would look like falling be chucked to himself, “well it’s hosted by drow... maybe we’ll find out.” The wolf wore a tailored white tuxedo, with a silken black undershirt. A mulberry tie hung from his neck, he adjusted it slightly, something he’s not used to wearing just yet. His raven black hair and the same color for the fur of his tail contrasted perfectly with his choice in tuxedo and he loved it. His mask was a black, gold threat lined wolf’s face, complete with ears. The whole of the thing covered in a soft black velvet giving it a furred sheen. After a moment of just admiring the place and swatting at a few of the floating fairy fires that drifted around he started about to try and find first and foremost a certain little feline, though sadly he hadn’t got her scent yet. So he settled for the table of human delicacies. Free food should never go to waste.

Seteth lifted the theatrical black lacquer mask from its resting place upon his belt and brought it up to his face well before either of his associates could recognize him within the crowd. Not that they wouldn’t be able to piece together his identity relatively quickly even now, of course, but it was the spirit of the event that counted. ‘Left or right,’ the thief pondered. Penelope was in one direction and Raphaline the other. In truth, it mattered little. Idle conversation had its appeal, but the first order of business was to case this place for valuables. Letting his feet decide for him, Seteth meandered past a collection of pickled eyeballs and approached a fine porcelain dining set at the far end of the table on which they rested. To his chagrin, more pickled eyeballs awaited him, bowled between what looked like testicles. ‘Surely I’m mistaken,’ he thought, knowing deep down that he was probably correct. The porcelain set might have fetched a hefty handful of silvers but cleaning them out ought to have been a higher-paying job than all that. Not worth it. A candlelit tray of curried bread surprised Seteth, as it was on the vampiric side of the dining area. He sniffed it suspiciously. Satisfied with his nose’s takeaway, he chomped in. ‘Of course I’d fail to smell the raw flesh center.’ Seteth grimaced. When a waiter passed him by with a tray of champagne, the thief deftly hid the remainder of his disgusting hors d’oeuvres in one of the glasses and fetched two of the others. His poor fortunes had led Seteth nearer to Penelope than Raphaline, so -- after a brief moment reserved for admiring the woman’s bare upper back -- he slid in beside her and offered her one of the champagne glasses. In doing so, he had to set his lacquer mask back upon his belt, defeating the whole purpose of the affair. “Interesting people, these vampires,” he said by way of greeting.

Daath D'Artes' arrival is of course not something done in a simple or light manner. He was, after all, the architect of tonight’s festivities as well as host, and as such needed to make his presence known. So, as the larger herd of party goers made their way in a precession of trumpets go off as a herald of house D’Artes makes his way out into the open dance floor that dominates the center of this large room. The flames around the crowd dim, and a magical light shine upon this messenger who is selling the role well. Dressed like a jester, his antics are flamboyant and heavily animated. His face is covered by a two-sided mask, on one side its weeping, the other laughing maniacally. He moves about, flips and rolls and the typical routine, until he lands in the center of the room once more. His voice carries out across the crowd. “Ladies and Lords! Lords and Ladies!” He stops and looks at the rest of the crowd. “And the rest of you gathered here tonight! I present to you, Matron Gevurah and her husband the Magister Daath!” The humblest of bows, over and over as he gives way to allow a pair of servants holding overly large spider-web-themed barriers to move back just as the light focuses upon Daath and his beautiful wife, Gevurah. The drow male is wearing a custom suit of the finest make, black with midnight blue accents in all the right places, while his mask is chiseled from bone in the shape of death’s grinning skull and embellished with runic carvings of a necromantic nature that pulsates with a magical green hue. In one arm is his wife, in the other a cane fashioned from bone and silver, topped with the skull of mysterious origin. He waves and calls out. “Welcome all! To the Vailkrin Masquerade Ball!”

Galina was not a picky eater. Something had taught her that in her past. So whether it was the human delicacies that some would find gross or the more exotic choices found on the vampiric side of dining area, or champagne or blood wine, it didn't seem to be all bad for her. With a platter filled with many excesses, of things another male she observed spitting out, she moves with her plate towards a place to sit at a table, and when the host and hostess is announces she dips her head slightly to respect them, even though not word is uttered from her lips behind her mask.

Mahri looked at Seteth.

Penelope Halifax realized that she had been staring too long. Mainly at the raw flesh and the eyeballs. The girl may have been a little bigoted when it came to vampires. Maybe. She never met one. The healer downs her first drink and sets it on a waiter’s empty tray. As a man slips next to her and begins to speak, the girl recognizes the voice. “Dead people. Strange, isn’t it?” She eyes him. “You look handsome,” she offers him a small smile before taking the champagne out of his hand. “Now, you at another ball. There must be something that you want from someone if you’re here,” she smirks and starts to sip from her glass. As the hosts make their entrance, she lifts her glass in a cheers motion towards the welcomes. “You know I’ve been waiting for you to show up at my shop. You lead all the women on?” She says teasingly.

Raphaline is making her rounds, saying hello to familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. As she moves, her dress shimmers, and when she shakes hands or hugs closer friends, they will notice a bit of gold and silver designs on her hands.

Mahri missed the host and hostesses entrance. She didn't wear fancy clothes but she did concede to wearing a half-mask. It covered her eyes and was, of all things, a wolf. Silver-grey eyes peered from behind the mask wondering if she might run into anyone she knows. Or knew. So far no one smelled familiar. Mahri avoided the food tables, preferring to snag a glass or three from a passing waiter and leaving the empties on the tray of another.

Odhranos 's head whips around at the announcement of Daath and Gevurah's entrance and behind his mask, his face falls to one of mild despair. The first person he knows at the party... And it's his boss. Oh Xalious bless us and save us. Turning tail and heading away from the centre of the throng, Odhranos' makes a quick get away from the line of sight, lest he be spotted, and while making his escape, he spots Raphaline out of the corner of his eye. Changing trajectory with surprising grace, the mage approaches the bard before bowing deeply once he gets within range of voice. "I heard you were performing tonight, I'm really looking forward to hearing you sing." The mage straightens and flashes a warm smile. "You look stunning, may I add."

Seteth sipped his champagne between mirthful chuckles as Daath of House D’Artes put on his splendid little entry performance. The drow’s two-faced mask was unlike anything the thief had ever seen before and he admired the skillful artistry of its creator. It would have made for a terrific steal if it hadn’t belonged to someone that Seteth suspected could tear his throat out while blindfolded. “I only express interest in the women fully capable of leading me on instead,” he said in a silken tone. “It’s hardly my fault Lithrydel appears to have several of you in varying states of beauty. Not so far away now, the wandering Raphaline seemed in Seteth’s estimation to have been accosted by an unfamiliar mage. “Honestly,” he continued. “I’m mainly here for the prize.” He left his meaning ambiguous but gestured around at the throngs of well-dressed people before them. “And what brings you here? Did you have a premonition that the ball would sorely need someone bright to lighten up the grim decor?”

Galina ate her meal and silence, eyes turning every so often to keep a look out for anyone she might recognize. She felt a little guilty having had to modify her mask just before she ate with a knife, exposing her mouth area and chin, while keeping her cheeks. It had been a good mask up until that point, it was probably looking a little less now. But she silently applauded the usefulness as she cleared through the different choices of meat. Casually drinking back some blood wine, or some champagne, whichever the server was providing at the time. She was halfway through her first plate when she spotted Raphaline, and then mostly done when she watched another woman stray into the place with a mask. She took note of Odhranos even though she had not met him personally yet, even while she had received a note from his office. Her emerald eyes wandering. She would soon return to buffet table for a resupply on a fresh plate. A naga was never full it seemed.

Gevurah , like any drow matron worth her salt, enjoys the pageantry that comes with her station. The drowess eschewed the typical drow power ensemble that is best described (anachronistically) as Victorian goth. Instead, Gevurah, on the advice from a surface stylist, wears an eye-catching midnight blue dress that plunges deeply at the neckline, reveals the length of her back, and drapes around her feet in a mermaid-cut train. Black sequins and jewels, with the occasional diamond, climb up from the hem of her dress and peter off into wispy nothingness around the knee. It's been a long time since Gevurah showed off this much skin in public, but her advisors informed her that on the surface women compete with sex appeal, and men are in part ranked by the covetousness of the women on their arm. And so, in an effort to help Daath's dark star rise in this dreadfully cold dead town, Gevurah plays her part. The upper half of her face is obscured with a smooth, black mask. She hates this part of the outfit the most. Whoever invented masquerades must have been a hideous beast. She smiles at no one, hardly acknowledges the presence of others, and sees no person of rank worth noting. Once Daath has welcomed the guests, she glances towards the bar and whispers something to Daath in their native drow tongue.

Odhranos dips his head in acknowledgement of the compliment. "As of yesterday, I didn't, but one of my colleagues is an expert seamstress and took pity on my fashion sense." Reaching out to pinch two of the fluted glasses, he hands one to Raphaline before taking a small sip of his own. "Mmm, just the one couldn't harm, I'd imagine."

Gevurah whispered to Daath.

Penelope nods in fairness at his remark to her playful behavior. “There’s plenty of beautiful fish in this Lithrydel sea,” she gave off a very calm smile. “But I knew you wanted something. My luck goes out for you.” She then looks around the room. With all the masks, no one else seemed familiar. Even Ruari was not by her side tonight. He did not know. She gazes around the room while she answers the man before her. “Well, why do you think I wore this honey-colored gown?” Moss doe eyes flick back to him with a crooked smile. “But no. I came here on my own because it was a solid excuse to finally visit the land of Vailkrin. This is a whole other world that I haven’t been able to see. People may or may not know that I am here right now back in Kelay,” she shrugs her small shoulders. “I’ve never actually seen a vampire. With all the talk, as of late, I figured why not today?”

Raphaline offers the mage a friendly grin as she plucks the drink from him and takes a good, long sip of it. This is her first big performance in a few years, and needless to say she is a tad bit nervous. "Will you be around long after the performance? I would love at least one dance with you, if you didn't mind." She moves to his left side and wraps her arm around his, her hand finding the curve of his elbow.

Mahri wanders through the people hearing snippets of conversation here and there. Something about never having seen a vampire makes the lycan smirk a little. Doubtless the singer had but probably didn't know it. That's the way of those freakin' bloodsuckers. A waiter offered the wolf a champagne off his tray and Mahri wrinkled her nose until she saw it was mostly the drink of choice."Fine, but can ye see if there's some whiskey som'ere aroun' here? Or rum. Rum would be better, yeah? Thanks." She holds the flute delicately afraid to snap the stem as she continues to meander. The stricking sight of Gevurah and Daath does catch her eye. Especially that this party in Vailkrin isn't being hosted by vampires as she'd thought, but drow. Mahri ground her teeth and took one more look around not seeing the teltale signs of the vampire she'd hoped to see lurking around. "Well," she mutters under her breath before downing the bubbly in one go, "ain't this just the pits."

Valrae is late and manages to slip in quietly behind Gevurah. The witch imagines she is sufficiently disguised underneath her simple black mask so that she hadn’t bothered with glamours or illusions. Her hair is unbound, a waterfall of sunlight and curls trailing behind a figure cloaked demurely in unadorned shades of black, the only hint of drama a play of delicate lace trailing from her collar to her wrists. The witch moves to the bar as quietly as she arrived, content to watch the crowd and sip a glass of cool white wine. You’d have to be careful of the red around here, no?

Odhranos nods as he drinks more of the delicate champagne. "It would be an absolute pleasure to dance with you."

Seteth still knew little of the regional customs of this land. His voice a tad too tight, betraying his ignorance, he asked a question posed as a neutral observation. “It seems to me the drow are the true winers and diners and rulers of the eve, no?” Conscious of his genuinely confused tone, he coughed quietly and laughed with expert timing. “You may not believe this, but I am here for precisely the same reason. My talk of prizes scarcely concerns the tangible.” Not that he hadn’t been planning on grabbing at least the dining set earlier before his disturbing revelation, but for the purposes of his smooth-talking that was entirely beside the point. “The prize tonight is the people themselves. I cannot hope to achieve my goals if I don’t understand who it is that I’m dealing with over here in Lithrydel-ville. Not to mention, I’m always on the lookout for quality business associates.” Seteth took another sip and lifted his gloved left hand toward a plate of what looked like fried fish. “This is definitely fish,” he declared, as if to will it so. To his delight, this time he was right. “Not bad. But I digress. Quality business associates. Will you be at your shop again in a few days, your Kelay folk none the wiser to your graceful Vailkrin adventure? There is much to discuss… some of it may even be of a professional nature.”

Raphaline grins, as she leans over and playfully places a small kiss on the mage's cheek. "Great. Now I am excited for after the performance." She downs a bit more of her own drink and moves them towards the stage so she is ready whenever it is time for her to head backstage.

Daath follows his wife's lead and wholly ignores people he know are nto of importance. This si to sate her desire to make sure they uphold their own standing, as well as to play to the Vailkrin nobles who are in attendance. These are the first to be greeted, naturally, by the host of the party. The nobles all exchange empty and false well wishes and boast of their wealth and power and what new land they just bought and all the typical crap Daath's secretly hated about being a noble born his entire life. But he plays the part, always doting on his wife and introducing her to the right people and then tearing into them in their drow native tongue the moment they leave. Her request for drink's isn't missed, and he'd excuse himself a brief moment to snatch a pair of martinis from a passing waiter, and handing Gevurah one. A moment is taken to shake a few more hands, and make sure everyone is enjoying themselves, before he'd move to a location where the light once more focuses upon him. " Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome again,and lets give a round of applause to the heads of each great and noble house for putting on such a wonderful night for us all!" The locals of course cheer and clap and praise their vampire overlords, eyes will be watching for anyone who doesn't of course. A expertly masked fake chuckle is given, as the dark elf then says. "And! That isnt all! We have a wonderful performer tonight who has traveled all the way here to put on quite the show for us all!" The light will of course find Raphaline now, this rotating spotlight magical enchanted to work on mental command it seems. The light finds Raph, mid conversation or not, and Daath will say. "When she is ready, I hear she has quite the opening act for us all! " With that done, hopefully buying him time to nab his wife and make a round or two before he is needed again, Daath takes Gevurah by the hand and whsipers in her ear.

Mahri dumped her glass and smiled winningly at the waiter when he came back around and this time with whiskey, "Life saver," she toasted the waiter with the shot glass before tossing it back expertly. "Whew, good stuff too." Mostly the wolf was talking to herself but the waiter smiled anyway, sketched a bow, and moved on.

Shishi , when he walked out of The Thorne Estate this morning in the city of Eternal Darkness, was greeted by the sight of two drow leaving the mansion just next door. One of them was as drow as drow can get and the other was none other than his nemesis, The D'Artes Mom. He was puzzled then, just as he has continued to be throughout the day. Was someone playing a trick on him through the use of glamour magic, or has his life turned into some type of insane sitcom where mortal enemies become next door neighbors? 'There goes the neighborhood' would be the tag line on the posters, and that is exactly the line that ran through his head when he saw them walking down the main street of the undead city. Nevertheless, the so called Blue Demon is here (a paid appearance from The Titan of Winter perhaps?), in disguise as the dress code calls for. His mask is white and faceless, inspired by a certain goblin-turned-unspeakable-horror, and it is a wonder whether or not he can actually see anything through it, though he is clearly identifiable by the 'Shishi uniform' that he is always found to be in; white shirt, black tie, black pants.

Raphaline casually waves to those now looking in her direction and says something along the lines of in a few minutes she will get the performance started.

Galina was on her third plate, and she didn't seem to be stopping yet, maybe she was worried she wasn't going to eat again for some time. Or she was just hungry or nervous. With very little remaining on her plate she pushed the silverware and plates aside, and took a drink of her drink. Eyes peering about as she continued to sit at the table, her coils cleverly hidden beneath the dress. Taking in everyone continuing to watch as people conversated, almost as if she were studying them trying to figure out how they acted and reacted.

You whispered to Gevurah.

Odhranos silently thanks the gods that this was a masquerade ball and that he has enough stone shards to hide his red cheeks, but just before he has a chance to respond, a spotlight beams down and illuminates Raphaline, catching Odh in the crossfire. Thinking quickly, Odh takes Raphaline's hand, pressing a light kiss to it before whispering quietly. "Break a leg, I'll see you afterwards."

Shishi looked at Raphaline.

Penelope finally grabs a plate and moves to the human table while having the intention that Seteth will trail behind her. “Business associates,” she repeats him and makes mental notes while he speaks. Her mind is beginning to make a personal file cabinet for the man. “Let me guess, I’m possibly one of those associates…” she gives him a side eye. “Yes, I will be back in the shop this week.” Beat. The herbalist’s eyes look him up and down. “You’ll talk, I’ll listen, and I can decide whether to ruin your day or not,” she smiles. “Because even though I’m a ‘shining ray’ that you seem to see, I can say ‘no’,” she says this with a childish grin on her face. She then plops some sort of salad on her plate.

Raphaline smiles once more at the mage before she leaves him and makes her way up to the stage and disappears behind the current.

Daath turns to watch Raph's reaction and swears he recognizes the man she is with..

Gevurah grins darkly at Daath's whispered words. Her glowing red gaze scans the room and settles on Shishi whose mask does little to hide his unmistakable aura from the Priestess of Death. Gevurah whispers to Daath in drow, "That Shishi is a fool. Add him to your kill list."

Daath is not given time enough to ponder if he knows the man with Raphaline, as his attention is grabbed by Gevurah in the direction of Shishi. He'd nod and add him to the list.

Raphaline :: The stage set up at the front of the room is adorned with gold encrusted columns, black marble with silver speckled flooring, and white and gold marble spiraling stairs that take up much of the back part of the stage. Along the railings and across the columns hanging black gossamer material that is speckled with silver flecks to match the floor. At the center of the flat part of the stage is a large, marble basin that if looked down into, seems to be empty. Once the ball has been going for a bit the lights in the room begins to flicker furiously before finally dying completely, throwing the room into complete darkness. The music begins to play a haunting opening as the stage seems to come alive with a fire near the center of the stage and warm, glowing lights that seem to swirl and twirl through the air. When the music begins to pick up, dancers clothed in black move likes shades down the marble stairs and outward to circle the marble basin. They move and twirl like wraiths dancing through the air as if to summon someone from the great beyond.

Seteth clapped when prompted to clap. Quite a few of the undead city’s nobles somehow managed to look too posh for his liking despite their inherent deadness, as if they’d purchased their expensive suits with the blood and on the backs of the downtrodden and very much alive. One by one he noted their appearances, doing his best to store as many of their foolish features in his mind for eventual recall. When Penelope led, the thief followed, thankful for the change of location. “A more than fair condition, my future partner,” Seteth said with a confident smirk. His boyish looks had a tendency to paint that confidence less as arrogance and more as a charming -- if occasionally vain and misguided -- exuberance. As the drow called Daath introduced Raphaline, Seteth’s eyes widened in good cheer. “I’d not realized the bard would sing,” he said. “That one’s Raphaline,” he pointed. Whether or not Penelope Halifax was familiar with the woman, the simple act would inform the herbalist that Seteth was on first-name terms with her. “I’ve brought her into the fold, so expect to see more of her. Assuming you find the tale I’ll be telling worthy of your employ.” He figured he ought to at least finish off the present round of chatter with something at least approaching recognition that Penelope might not agree to his terms after all.

Shishi is blissfully unaware that he has been added to a list. Even if he knew though, this would feel like a drop in a bucket full of wishful thinkers that seek to end his undeath...

Odhranos moseys into the crowd, looking for a comfortable perch with which to observe the performance.

Raphaline ::From the basin singing begins to echo from somewhere far below. “You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent, silent.” From the flames begins to rise a figure dressed in a black tux and a white under shirt. The figure stretches out their hand towards the top of the staircase where a woman stands clothed in a long, white dress made of translucent material. She looks down at the other singer with a wild, desire filled look in her emerald eyes as she begins to sing, “No backward glances, the games we've played till now are at an end.” She takes a step down the marble stairs revealing that her feet are bare except for the silver and gold paint that swirls over the skin on both her feet and hands. As she takes another step she continues singing, “Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend.” She stops midway down the stairs and reaches out towards the other singer as they both sing together, “What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?”

Mahri moves around the circle of the room, somehow finding herself next to Shishi. She'd grabbed another whiskey along the way. She'll just sorta stand there, next the male in the faceless mask and trademark white and black attire. He can't, unfortunately, hide his scent from her. "So, I hear you lost this last tournament." Business had taken her out of the game, not that she minded at all.

Galina table had a good view of the stage, or so it had pleasantly presented her with that, she watched without emotion, she was the more lifeless one at this party it seemed. But the table was mostly empty.

Daath is of course not blinded by the sudden blanket of darkness that falls due to Raphaline's performance, as his eyes switch and adjust to the low light easily. Even in pitch black he'd be able to see due to his dark elven heritage. He does take the chance of darkness to move his hand more around Gevurah's waist a bit, bringing her a bit closer than he usually would.

Penelope squinted and laughed at the man’s charming and confident behavior. The girl finishes putting food on her plate before her eyes follow the thief’s gaze. Raphaline. “Never heard of her, but obviously she has something to give to you and to the crowd this evening,” she smirks. “I’d be happy to meet her at some point. Whether or not we agree on whatever we agree on.” Penelope was sort of a pushover, so she would most likely agree. “I’m gonna go sit, enjoy my food, and the show,” she smiles and she slips past him. Whether he would follow or not was up to him, but this petite girl was starving.

Shishi puffs out his cheeks behind his mask as he drifts around the hall, snagging a blood wine where he can and flipping the face cover up over his head so that he can gulp the drink down. This was a curious scene. Drow MC, living entertainment. Is he the only vampire of note in attendance? (outside of the hosts I guess). He's immediately on edge noticing all these things... Is this a setup? Is something disastrous about to happen? Would it even be a Vailkrin party if it didn't?

Shishi nods to Mahri, finishing his drink with another high society gulp, and saying, "Aye. Dragon messed me up and the snake took advantage of it. Oh well..." He's preoccupied and obviously so, leading him to not tip toe around it, "This is a weird party..."

Seteth looked at Raphaline.

Mahri assumes that it's likely Shi didn't hear her, but that's okay. She's going to find herself a spot and just observe anyway. The music was actually pretty good.

Raphaline ::The woman in white makes her way down the rest of the stairs and is met by the wraiths who take her by either arm and lead her to the figure among the flames who offers a hand to her and begins to sing again. “I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge, in your mind you’ve already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me.” The woman in white hesitantly places her hand in the others as she crosses the threshold. The figure clasps her hand tightly and pulls her in close as the woman in white begins to sing again. “I have come here, to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence, in my mind I’ve already imagined our bodies entwining.” Both the woman and the figure lean in close as if to kiss but at the last moment pull away and step out of the fire. They both circle around the basin until they stand in front of the fire, reaching once more for another as they sing together. The figure that had been hidden by shadow and fire is revealed to a dark haired woman with her hair brushed back and tied at the nape of her neck. “Our passion play has now at last begun, past all thought of right or wrong, when will the blood begin to race? When will the flames at last consume us?”

Seteth was tempted to follow, but there was time and intrigue enough for further discourse with the herbalist in the days to come. “Eat up,” the thief said teasingly. The next thing he knew, every light in the room had given way to darkness. Seteth’s first impulse was to slip his dark steel daggers from their concealed locale beneath his pant legs. Yet there was something about the serenity of it all, an oddity to be sure given the vampiric brethren and drow hosts, that bade him to calm down. When light returned in multicolored and fiery flickers, the vision of the bard Raphaline filled his view. It felt as though Raphaline’s form had been cast upon the entirety of the great hall, and yet such thoughts seemed absurd when he could see her lithe frame in just one location. If he had any lingering doubts about her usefulness in his operation, Seteth would have crushed them here and now.

Odhranos finds a free chair with a good view of the stage and subsequently occupies it, lifting his sizeable golden relic onto his lap, where he quietly drums his thumbs against the polished metal in time with the music, while he takes in the performance with delight.

Valrae finds her kohl lined eyes trailing toward the striking drow couple that the party seemed to orbit around. They settle on Daath firmly, surprise tilting her lips downward. Daath D’Artes was a former mentor and, tentatively and with a small stretch of imagination, had been one of her first friends. She’d been hungry and homeless when he’d ushered her into the Mage’s Guild and helped steady her fumbling grasp of arcane magic. That was another life though. He could hardly be expected to know her now, in her stolen body and as changed as she was. Valrae had very much come into her power now and, even without the complete change of corporeal forms, might have been unrecognizable to the waifish and shy thing she once was. When Raphaline takes the stage, she commands the Red Witch’s attention away from her former mentor and memories of a long ago past. She claps when prompted, a dutiful guest, and sips her wine as she watches the show. Valrae especially delighted in the play of light and magic.

Galina left arm began to itch as she was soon scratching it, the tattooed number blinking in illumination at a rapid pace, until became a solid illumination. Her emerald eyes locked towards the entrance as two very tall persons stepped into the room, dressed as they were for the ball, masks to boot. Without trying to draw attention to herself in the dark room, she wrapped the napkin around her tattoo, and then dropping from seat, while the eyes were on the stage, she slithered low to the ground in an attempt to escape.

Raphaline ::As the music crescendos, the two singers come together. They take a hold of each other and begin to move in a furious dance of push and pull, coming in close enough to kiss and then drawing away but never truly letting go of one another. The spin and twirl and move around the fire as the music dips and slows as both singers move to walk once more towards the fiery basin. Slowly, with clasped, they make their way into the fire as they sing their last lines. “The bridge is crossed, watch it burn, we're passed the point of no return.” The fire in the basin shoots up and the two singers disappear from sight before the fire suddenly goes out and all that is left are the wraith dancers moving back up the stairs as the fairy lights begin to flicker out once more.

Gevurah is surprised when Daath slips an arm around her waist, but not unpleasantly so. In the darkness she allows herself to enjoy his attention, to smile privately to herself, and lean into him a little. That familiar guilt settles into her heart again. She downs her glass of martini quickly to rid herself of troublesome thoughts about Lanlan. This is the second evening in a row wherein Gevurah truly enjoyed Daath's company. The day between the evenings was spent enchantingly simply as well. As the lights return, she wonders what Lanlan would be doing at a party like this. Probably pranking guests, which, while funny, is exactly the reason she couldn't marry a drow like him. Her heart hurts again. She takes a martini glass from a passing waiter's tray and starts on drink number too. She never drinks hard liquor, only wine, and the drinks are catching up to her more quickly. She notices Valrae staring at Daath with an odd intensity. She whispers to her husband, "Who is that?" She points out Valrae in the crowd.

Shishi starts pacing after Mahri when she moves away, ranting at her like a conspiracy theorist as he grabs and downs another full glass of blood wine in a single gulp, "Like what is happening here? Is this a ploy to lure a bunch of people filled with blood into Vailkrin so they can all be sucked dry?" He says that question way too loud just as he walks by Odhranos. "Where are all the vampires? Am I the only one here that people have heard of? This is insaeee." He slurs, maybe because in between the last and penultimate question he took another glass and finished it.

Shishi said to Mahri, "Like why are drow here, you know?"

Raphaline ::When the lights come back on, the dancers and singers are center stage waving and bowing to their gracious audience.

Gevurah watches Shishi's pacing and ranting from a distance. She cannot hear the vampire, but his body language communicates his distress clearly enough. She tugs of Daath's lapel, then tips her head over to Shishi to point him out to the necromancer.

Shishi yells at Raphaline, "Are you sure you're meant to be here? Aren't you worried?"

Daath is enjoying the show, Raphaline was worth the small fortune she was being paid for this event. It's after a few moments of enjoying the closeness of his wife that he has his attention directed towards an Valrae. Of course Daath has no clue thats Valrae, and his reply makes that evident. "I've no clue. These things bring people from all over, as far as I know she is of no major importance." Boy was he wrong, but hey, ignorance is bliss. If he'd known that was Valrae, and then was educated on what had happened to her by Larket, well, Daath would have added a whole kingdom to "the list".

Seteth had clapped because he had to before, but even one as skilled at deception as he could not conceal the difference between obligatory applause and genuine satisfaction. Nowhere in Amyra, not even the richest quarter of Sagittae herself, had the lad seen a performance so spectacularly dramatic as this one. It surprised him to see such passion in so cold a city, and as he lifted his black lacquer mask in front of his face once more, Seteth let himself imagine that the real display of power Raphaline and her cohorts had created felt stronger -- threatening, even -- than anything these vampiric nobles could ever have dreamed of mustering.

Odhranos overhears Shishi's ranting and is momentarily distracted from the magic of the occasion with concern. It had occured to him that Vailkrin wasn't the safest place for humans, but he had been banking on the whole hospitality social convention. Now that he thought about it, maybe that was a small bit of an oversight. The cage in his arms hissed with the mage's discontent as he tried to put the thought from his head, trying to return his focus to the now concluded performance, which he applauded with great enthusiasm

Seteth looked at Shishi.

Mahri looks in shock at Shishi and reaches a hand for his arm. "Sssh.

Daath joins in with the crowd that erupts into applause, some even showering the entertainers with flowers (maybe some random limbs from the food carts) before his attention is directed to the ever increasingly anxious Shishi, and a smirk finds his lips as he replies. "I'd bet gold he has no clue whats happening and is freaking out." to Gevurah.

Galina pauses as the lights return, this was a compromise, especially since the two figure seemed to still be following her, now so much closer. A voice in her head telling her to go left. To which she does making her way out of the room, once there they are still on after her. She hears the voice once more, this time to press up against the wall, and as she does her dress and the food she consumed fall in the hall to the south, as her body is pulled into the obsidian wall, making the pursuers stop for a second, trying to get figure out what happened. Elsewhere at another obsidian wall she starts slithering as fast as she could away. A party while enjoyed at first at least for her, was now one she had to escape.

Gevurah signals for Valrae to approach with the air of a queen who assumes any person whose name she does not know is definitely her subordinate.

Mahri said to Shishi, "Ssh. You're drunk already? Do you want to draw attention to yourself?" who was she kidding, he probably did having gotten used to it. "I don't."

Penelope is shoving food in her face and clapping all the same. It's a smashing time.

Mahri eyes Daath who is eyeing her friend and she doesn't like it. If she can get a hand on Shishi and pull him away, it'd probably be best for them.

Shishi lightly shakes his arm and spills a little bit of wine on his pants. He's extraordinary proficient in procuring booze at these things, it seems. "No." His waving of his arm isn't enough to free himself from Mahri's grasp, but it is meant to show protest as he speaks far too loudly again, "No! This is nonsense! What are they all doing here? Are they moving in?! Something is happening at this party, and I want to know what, so I know who to blame when this whole place explodes or is swallowed by a monster or something!" It's a scene now.

Raphaline bows alongside her cohorts for a moment more before everyone departs once more to head backstage to change and rejoin the party in costume. The bard herself changes out of her stage costume and once more into her glittering crystal dress and mask. With a once over to make sure her mask and hair are in place, she slips back out into the party. She looks around the room for her earlier companion and spots him right away. As she weaves through guests, thanking them for their wonderful compliments and gift of roses and such, she finally arrives and stops right before Odhranos. “What did you think?” She asks, tucking her newly acquired flowers into the crook of her right arm.

Daath doesn't notice Gevurah summon over the unknown woman (Valrae), as his attention is upon the Titan of Winter who is obviously drunk and making a scene. Here, Daath would begrudgingly remove his arm from Gevurah's waist and make his way over to the drunkard. Is is upon them in moments, nodding to Mahri respectfully as he says to Shishi. "I know such "great" champions take losing hard, but you're making quite the fool of yourself, Titan of Winter."

Shishi shouted at Raphaline, "-They're- -going- -to- -eat- -you-!"

Valrae answer’s Gevurah’s wave as someone who doesn’t necessarily like to follow a ruler’s summons but knows how to pick her battles. That is to say, slowly. She takes time to have a bartender freshen her wine and to collect her small handbag, perhaps brush some errant dirt from her long dark train, before moving slowly across the room to the drowess. “Hello,” The witch says lightly, tipping into an overly flourished curtsy with an amused smile. “You summoned?”

Mahri narrows her eyes at the vampire and she says sharply, "The shut up, Blue." Since he hadn't shaken her she dragged him to some secluded corner and scared away a knecking couple. At least, she assumed that's what they were doing because in this city, one couldn't be sure. "What the hell, Shishi? Of course something is going on and you're ranting isn't going to make it happen any sooner, just get you on a list somewhere."

Gevurah studies Valrae the way one would study a salamander with toe heads. There is something off about this human's aura, but the priestess cannot quite put her finger on it. The woman's life line isn't direct. The aura appears bifurcated, and half feels lost or thin. Gevurah has no way of knowing that what she reads in Valrae's aura as peculiar is the result of a strange twinning that happened when Valrae was ressurected be an esoteric means. Gevurah's own ability to resurrect is quite different, and the aura does not mutate the way Valrae's has. The priestess has never seen this before. "What are you?" she asks in her heavily accented-common. Gevurah begins to circle the human and study her like a museum exhibit.

Odhranos rises from his seat and claps his hands audibly, but not too loud as to attract attention. "Absolutely extraordinary. Even the details down to the lighting were exquisite. Not to mention the singing; it rounded off the entire performance." The mage beamed happily, he had thoroughly enjoyed the performance. "It may not be much, but..." The mage twists his hands in the air, coaxing a spiral of white sand from inside the cage he carried with him. The quartz sand floats in the air between his hands, before coalescing with a silvery whisper, forming into a single crystal rose, which the terramancer plucks from the air, presenting it to Raphaline with a gentle smile. "A token of appreciation for an astounding performance."

Valrae ’s head snaps back, as if the drowess had landed a physical blow. Confusion paints her features clearly, even underneath her simple mask, and her teasing smile falls into a deep frown. “I’m human, of course,” The witch stammers. The scene between Daath and Shishi was background noise, motion no longer registered even to her peripheral vision. To regain some of her composure, Val tries to hide behind humor. “Surely you’ve seen enough of the surface to know what a human is?” The comment landed a little mean and a little racist, even to her own ears.

Shishi grits his teeth and lowers the volume once he's out of the center of the room, "List... I'll-..." Then Daath comes over and says 'great' in quotation marks, and that's enough for The Blue Demon tonight. He drops his glass and it shatters on the floor as he gives the necromancer some wicked side-eye that transforms from oceanic blue to a faintly glowing red. Being this close to the Thorne Estate, what happens next isn't an uncommon sight here in the great hall, as ever bit of flickering shadow cast around the place seems to have a pulse go through it, originating from the sauced assassin, "What would you know about not being a fool? They brought you out here to kill you." A black wand appears out of thin air in the hand that the wine glass had vacated, a more threatening prospect than the iris color change to those in the know...

Daath is of course not overly impressed, even in light of this being a formidable foe (sauced or not). But he is also as equally talented in curving such nonsense given the fact each word that comes out of the blue demon's mouth is coated in enough alcohol to ignite the entire kingdom. As the wand appears those of a more arcane sensitive nature could feel the presence of powerful magical wards flare in anticipation. Daath is never without protection, call it learned habits from growing up drow. He looks to Mahri, who seems to know the obviously overly intoxicated assassin and says. "Tonight is about easing tensions, not causing more. Can you deal with the former champion? I believe his loss to the snake is hitting him rathe rhard tonight and we'd not want him to do something foolish." The fact Daath doesn't even regard Shishi as present speaks volumes on how he views the man currently. "This little spectacle is starting to draw more attention that it deserves."

Raphaline smiles, happy to see he had enjoyed the performance. After tonight, she is going to need a nice, long nap. “It took a lot of practice and design to throw it together in the short period of time I had to put it together. But I am happy with the way it turned out.” When he mentions a gift her eyes widen in surprise as the sand begins to crystallize; a made gift is so intimate and special to her. “Thank you,” she says. When she reaches across the distance between them to pluck the crystal rose from his fingers, she places the smallest of kisses on the left corner of his lips.

Gevurah shoots Valrae a warning through her stare. The (alleged) human benefits from a small heaping of patience served alongside Gevurah's curiosity. "What happened to you?" Gevurah says as she stops her circling. "Were you touched by some magic, or..." She squints at Valrae's throat. "Were you--" Gevurah is cut off by the commotion across the hall. She points a hand fiercely in Valrae's face, her fingers contorting into a strange arcane signal and she says in Ancient Drow, "Seek me." It's a powerful little spell that, should Valrae not be resistant to it, will compel her to seek out Gevurah for weeks to come. It's not difficult to remove, but the accursed would not necessarily want to remove it without a third party's lucid guidance. Once Valrae has been put under her spell (hopefully, maybe not), Gevurah races across the hall to join her husband's side for a fun vampire slaying. The couple that slays together stays together.

Mahri shrugs at Daath's question. "I've never figured out how to calm him when he gets like this.”

Penelope decides that dark, ghoulish, brawl parties may not be for her. The girl gets up, downs her last bit of champagne, and makes her exit.

Odhranos is surprised when Raphaline leans in and places a kiss at the corner of his lips, but once he surpasses the initial fluster, his lips turn up in a warm happy smile. Taking a step back and bowing deeply to Raphaline, he offers her his hand and inquires with gentle tone; "If it please you, Ms Raphaline, would you like to dance?"

Shishi unconsciously raises his wand hand ever so slightly, almost as if it were on puppet strings, the tip of the chaotic wand pointing towards the necromancer, and then shifting ever so slightly to Gevurah when she appears on the scene. The assassin remains the reigning Titan, so lets not get that twisted, First Gentleman of The Underdark. Shishi returns the favor of not acknowledging who he is speaking to, as he looks at Daath, but his words are so clearly meant for his companion, "You know how you can ease tensions? Leave." He sobers up just to say these last words very clearly and calmly, "You do not be-long here." This time he does shake off Mahri's grasp and moves towards he exit. "I'm not going to save this place when it blows up! Just so you know" he shouts to the lycan...

Mahri figures there's going to be a completely different kind of dancing here soon what with the drowess coming over. Her stance is rather defensive then, balance pushing forward subtly to the balls of her feet and, though her hands are left loose and relaxed, she's mentally making sure she hadn't forgotten her dagger. Silver eyes also look about to see what else might be used as a weapon or if there are any actual live plants available. It didn't matter really.

Valrae doesn’t flinch under the weighted look of warning Gevurah spares her. She knew better than that. Showing weakness was like free bleeding in shark’s water, if she knew anything of what she assumed she did of the woman who abruptly finished circling her. Internally, Valrae was cursing herself for being dragged into the situation at all. She could have stayed home. She could have, and should have, ignored the drow altogether and pretended to have been busy at the bar but her ego hadn’t allowed it. Now, though it wasn’t entirely clear why, the witch had surely stepped into some form of danger. “I-” Before any questions can be answered, a spell has been cast. There was no time to shield herself from it, nothing to be done. Power filled the room from all sides, slammed into the witch cloyingly enough to have nausea rolling through her. ‘Seek me’ whispered too loudly in her ears, even as she watched Gevurah walk away, and Valrae cursed loudly. She’d been hexed.

Mahri 's actually rather happy Shishi is leaving and, maybe she'll follow with a slight incline of her head towards Gevurah. When you're the reincarnated sister of a drow (by a spell gone wrong, mind) you kinda learn the most common ettiquete."Thanks for the party. It's been fun." She slants a glance towards Daath though, having heard a few things about him.

Joan appeared from the south.

Gevurah just barely acknowledges Mahri's nod by simply making eye contact. A gift, Mahri, cherish it. As Mahri leaves, Gevurah asks Daath in drow, "Who is that?"

Daath doesn't seem overly bothered by the wand being raised at him, again he's faced plenty with lofty titles before. If the drunk wanted to go toe to toe with magic, then the drow wouldn't stop current or former or ages past titan. Its hard to be scared of a man who got beaten by a snake. But, alas the situation defuses and the vampire excuses himself, watching him leave, ranting about nonsense like most drunkards, Daath simply shakes his head and wonders what even prompted all of this? Is he even part of any of the houses? Did he not get the vampire memo from all the other houses (who are in attendance) about this being an open event? Maybe he was a self hating vampire? That would explain the alcoholism. Either way, he is shrugged off and the magister's attention is brought back t the party and his lovely wife. "See why I can't let things just go sideways?" He says in drow to his wife. "Imagine if that poor sod ran the place?" A look of mock pity washes over the drow. "Must be a hard time for him."

Raphaline is highly amused by the state she seems to have conjured in the mage, but doesn’t speak on it. Instead, she places her hand in his and nods as she answers, “If pleases me greatly.” She places her other hand on his shoulder as she draws in close and wraps her hand around his, letting him lead her into whatever dance he chooses. She moves with the same grace she displayed earlier on stage, moving with her partner’s lead and of course, not stepping on his feet. Whenever they twirl and move, her dress seems to glimmer, reflecting the bits of light that catch, making her look like a woman carved from ice even more so.

Daath said, "Well! Thats that then! Eat, drink and enjoy the festivities!"

Daath is glad he had made sure the vampire houses agreed to a pact for the evening. Festivities and a good time with the added bonus of a considerable bribe of gold and blood to sweeten the deal on not eating all living creatures present this eve. Having been the former Headmaster of the Necromancer's Guild, his presence was tolerated and even encouraged. Each house would love to have the official backing of the guild, and so it was agreed this evening would be at least at face value a peace agreement amongst houses. For now, if anything else. Larewen's disappearance helped a bit, as polarizing as she has been recently.

Shishi is in no way above waiting somewhere close by on the road here to ambush one of the several living guests at this party, and leave a massacred warning in the streets that Vailkrin is not meant to be a place where the humans and drow can take a trip to go clubbing for a night or two. This place is dangerous if you have potable blood, and it shouldn't be a surprise if his dirty work isn't the only such misfortune that befalls one of tonight's guests. This isn't about hating vampires*, it's about keeping Vailkrin Vailkrin, and Vailkrin is not a safe place for everyone. *(He is a self-hating vampire, though that is unrelated to tonight's outburst.)

Gevurah laughs gently as Daath mocks Shishi. "He's been a weevil in my flour for years now." That's the drow equivalent of 'thorn in my side.' The festivities resume and Gevurah moves on to her third martini. Though she remains curious about the woman with the freak aura, she leaves that puzzle unsolved for tonight. Her hex had landed, and thus another opportunity will arise by Gevurah's design. The excess alcohol blasts past its low-tolerance and Gevurah is suddenly, surprisingly tipsy. She bounces a little to the beat, not quite dancing but clearly feeling the music. The matron can't remember the last time she allowed herself to become inebriated in public. It's too dangerous to be pubicly drunk at Trist'oth's rare parties, but in this ballroom she and her husband are the most powerful creatures in attendance, and that fact was as intoxicating as the martinis. Knowing no one else here, she sticks close to Daath. Whenever his conversations with the drow nobles drift to boring vampire and necromancer interests, she is content to stand close to him and watch the strange customs of the surface. In particular she watches Odhranos and Raphaline's burgeoning courtship.