RP:Titans of Winter 2021 Opening Ceremony Ball

Summary: The Titans of Winters 2021 Opening Ceremony Ball!

Frostmaw Fort Main Room

Hildegarde ’s last most memorable ball had been the one in which she had actually died, so it had sort of put her off Yule Ball celebrations. This was not a Yule Ball celebration, though it did sort of encapsulate that too. It was a celebration for the commencement of the Titans of Winter tournament! A tournament for warriors and a favourite tradition for the City of War. Hildegarde waited behind the massive doors of the throne room, wearing her battle dress and standing beside Lisbeth. It was all a little too familiar. “I think I can hear people outside,” she muttered to her Queensguard who offered a little nod of agreement. “Best to go out and greet the people. Is there cakelog?” she asked, receiving a nod and a smile this time. “Great, I’m starving,” she shot back with a grin. With a low groan, the doors opened in full to reveal the Queen of Frostmaw standing in her Frostmaw blue battle-dress, which was a mix of fabric, leather and chainmail (fashion meets function). “All Hail the Queen of Frostmaw!” the court herald announced, allowing a moment for the room to settle before Hildegarde entered the main hall of the fort. She recognised a few faces and did not recognise others as she glanced around, but strangers were simply friends not yet made. “Friends,” she called to the hall, “I thank you for the honour you bring to Frostmaw! Tonight, in this hall, we belatedly celebrate yule and we celebrate our upcoming Titans of Winter! Glory be to our combatants, glory be to Frostmaw and glory to you – my honoured guests! Now please, drink, feast and be merry!” The Warrior Queen raised her halberd up just slightly, as if to signal the commencement of the celebrations; allowing the band of giants to begin their music.

Josleen arrives in her dual capacity as Thane of Frostmaw and Queen of Larket. Those with a mind for politics and history will remember that King Macon’s marriage to Thane Josleen almost four years ago was primarily arranged to broker peace between the warring kingdoms. His bet paid off handsomely. It is no secret in either court that King Macon and Queen Hildegarde hate each other, especially after Queen Hildegarde burned the Frostmaw-Larket peace treaty on the pyre of Valrae Baines. And yet, the two kingdoms remain in a tense state of hostile peace in large part due to Macon’s marriage to Josleen, Queen Hildegarde’s closest friend. Power is sometimes soft and King Macon did well investing it in his Queen, who enters the ballroom shrewdly wearing the colors of Frostmaw. Her iridescent ice glove, a symbol of her status as Thane, is prominently worn, as is the Xalious Tree Amulet that Hildegarde famously had crafted for Josleen as a gift. Her dress plays with shades of ice blue and midnight sky that wrap around her narrow waist and cascade in an A-line, full skirt. White fur lines the low-cut neckline and long sleeves’ cuffs. The only nod to Larket is her crown, the rest of her outfit, down to the white fox-fur boots, are purely Frostmaw. King Macon invented a convenient excuse to avoid visiting the City of War, an excuse he had laced with swears, no doubt. Thane Josleen arrives on the arm of her Queensguard, the valiant Knight Roald, who does not wear the full Larketian knight regalia at the request of his Queen. Instead, he dons a cream, cable-knit sweater over hidden, light leather armor, black slacks, and dress shoes, and carries a sword on each hip. Other members of the Queensguard have already been strategically placed throughout the room with Frostmaw’s prior consent. The only hint at Roald’s status is a discreet badge that denotes his high rank to those already in the know. Also accompanying Josleen is her son, Prince Guillem, who looks to be about 9 years old and is dressed handsomely in a pale blue tuxedo. Trailing the trio are two ladies in waiting whose job it is to keep Josleen looking pristine all night.

Josleen makes a beeline for Queen Hildegarde. “Hilde! It’s been too long,” Josleen says as she throws her arms around her dear friend. Pulling out of the hug, she bows her head and curtsies to the fellow Queen. Roald and the ladies in waiting bow deeply to the dragon queen as well, in unison with Josleen. Prince Guillem stands with his head stubbornly held high. “Guillem, bow to Queen Hildegarde.” “No, Dad says I don’t have to bow to no one.” Josleen smiled icily at her son, embarrassment creasing the edge of her smile. “Well you have to bow to your father and I, and you bow when I say so.” Prince Guillem hesitates, does a bratty calculus in his head, and decides to pick another battle. His head bows the absolute minimum amount necessary to please his mother. Josleen says to Hildegarde, “It’s a difficult age.” Is it, though? Seems with Guillem every age is a difficult age. “That dress looks beautiful on you, though it evokes some painful memories for me.” Josleen tugs Hildegarde’s tough skirt into a better pleat.

Mathollak :: Sky-piercing notes of a distant organ chime high above the sounds of the ball, heralding the lover. The massive doors to the fort swing open, and there enters a massive tank-armored contraption of pipes, where atop stands the fighter. Step by strugglesome step, a blue titan pushes the pipes ponderously toward the center of the ballroom, aided by a set of smallish treads hidden beneath the musical behemoth. Mathollak, The Axe of Love, descends from the stop, descending the ranks of shimmering gold pipes as if they themselves were stairs. And in time with the descending music, the pipes shutter to make way for him. His cloak of fur, miraculously gold-weft by each infintesimal fiber, billows full of grace above the instruments breath. The song ends, he begins. “For the people of Frostmaw! I am Mathollak, and this is my Organ of Love!” A great white gloved hand stretches from the crowd to greet him and help him disembark from his tall set of pipes. “Thank you, Helga,” he says to the eight foot tall giant escort. She matches him in color, wearing a crimson gown featuring dramatic puff sleeves on her shoulders, and diamond cuts revealing her navel and the sides of her abdomen. Just above the knee the dress branches into a hundred flowing fringes that dangle to the middle of her calf-high golden high heeled, open-toed boots. Because she doesn’t mind the cold.

Meri :: It was always hit or miss how Meri was going to actually show up to these things. Most of the time she has no shame in showing up to these classy events looking like a total scrub, but every blue moon she has been known to wear a dress, nothing overly frilly of course. Today, the blonde chooses neither option. As this is an event to celebrate the Titans of Winter and she is for a change as a contender, Meri has taken the time to put on her nicer armor, operating under the assumption that it would hardly be out of place in the City of War. It’s difficult to get all of the details of this armor, Meri is quite used to the warmer climates of say Cenril and Rynvale, and so every time the blonde visits she is bundled up. Today she has decided she’s going to wear a very soft and cozy sable fur cloak that is deep brown in color. Flashes of armor can be seen as Meri moves, enough to confirm that every piece is black in color. Making her rounds was not top concern as of yet, everyone was still filtering into the event. While Meri was used to showing up stag to these things, this was her first big party since the divorce, and so her first stop was going to be the bar. A little liquid courage never hurts, whiskey was a must tonight.

Ernest hadn't felt the need to dress fancy. Yeah, it may have been black tie, but his face couldn't exactly clean up so why should his outfit? Long black pants made of thick fabric for riding, simple white shirt. But of course, Ernest being Ernest, his need for some form of drama everywhere he went led him to creating special enchantments for his hat, longcoat and boots. The hat and longcoat both oozed an oily black fog that rolled off of them, dissipating harmlessly into eddies as he walked. The longcoat in particular was peeled open and held in place by several skeletal hands--made it easier to reach for his weapons should he find it necessary. The inner lining had faintly-glowing runes sewn into it, and the whole coat seemed to billow near-weightlessly in a nonexistent wind. The boots had a mild volume enchantment on them--anyone even remotely close to him could hear the metallic -clink- of his spurs as he walked. Just to be extra fancy, he'd conjured a pair of ethereal shadowy arms to cross his chest and connect to a pair of the skeletal hands. It might not be immediately obvious just from looking at him which pair of arms was his real pair, given how nicely the longcoat broke up his outline anyhow. Having no need for food and mostly waiting here to see if a certain someone turned up, he melted into the crowd--well, as well as a cowboy who literally made himself more obnoxiously loud and left a trail of black mist everywhere could melt into anything--and occasionally looked at some trinket in his palm.

Kanna || It had been quite a while since Kanna had attended such a large gathering. In her mind’s eye, she remembers a night of masquerade, and bloodied hands as the other patrons stared down at her with a mixture of revulsion and disgust. Seeming to sense her discomfort, her friend leans down to her height, which has been affectionately dubbed “drow-adjacent”, and murmurs a comforting phrase in her ear. The words bring a smile to Kanna’s face, to which she reciprocates by very lightly bumping her head into Quintessa’s side and flashing a bright smile at the half-elf opposite her. Breathe in, she thought as the heavy doors to the Frostmaw castle were opened for the group coming from the Champion’s Villa. It’s showtime. With her bubbly mask back in place, the bardess steps through the doors and throws her hand up, releasing a glittering red-orange confetti that gives the effect of falling embers around her figure. “We’re heeeere!” Kanna sings to the crowded room. In a word, her outfit is fiery. A Black Pond Original, wrapped layers of orange and red silk robes cover her, as rectangular as it can be against her plump figure. Prints of deep violet mandrake flowers and vines are embroidered into the silks, shaded just so that the light gives the illusion of embers kissing the ends of the petals. A sash hugs her waist of the same mandrake blossom color that shifts in and out of a warm red as she moves. Atop the sash is a cord of russet golden-brown, tied in a bow. At the tips of the cord, real mandrake blossoms bloom, revealing the cord to be a vine. Around her shoulders is a fur shawl despite not being able to feel the winter chill of the city. The fur is a russet brown with the tips of each strand flickering as if it were about to be set alight. In an effort to keep the attention on her outfit instead of her, Kanna’s silvery hair has been pinned up in an elegant bun, from which mandrake blossoms encircle the crown of her head, dispelling fresh petals into the crowd and immediately being replaced with new blooms. Her lips are painted a deep violet as she winks an eye painted to look like flames and blows a kiss in the direction of a nearby guard. In lieu of gemstone jewelry, a deep violet silk choker peeks out from beneath the shawl, with matching silk tied through her ears and tied into small bows. The color scheme was blues and whites? Well, that just meant that the loud colors would make her stand out more!

Haakon arrived at a fashionable hour and without accompaniment. The vampire was dressed in clean lines and fine material, a dashing figure in the deep black and bold red of the Dark Lands. The air of society and affluence clung to him like a second skin and straddled the line between confidence and arrogance. His dark hair was inappropriately long for court, at odds with the rest of his appearance, the only hint at something wilder and more untamed underneath the mask of gentlemanliness he’d cultivated otherwise. Upon entrance he checked his long winter coat, wholly unnecessary for his kind but integral for appearances, and took easy, long strides toward a small gathering of Vailkrin socialites he recognized and oftentimes rubbed elbows with. Amidst the glamor of the night he moved with an inherent predatory gait that was fluid, graceful and whispering danger. His face was intriguing, sharp of angle and handsome in the unnatural as was typical of his ilk. The harshness of it softened when he laughed at something a woman in heavy furs whispered in his ear. That laughter warmed the ice of his eyes even as he caught a server passing by to trade coin for a bubbling glass of champagne.

Iintahquohae ;; To Iintahquohae, being a vampire has provided one vital advantage to advertising her trade – She no longer concerns herself with the cold. Frostmaw's frigid climes have not limited her to creating a warm gown with several layers for the evening as it would have when she used to be human. She does purposely enchant the fabric she wears to emit heat however, purely for advertising purposes. Some ball-goer might look her way and want something made for themselves. Made primarily of a midnight blue blend of wool and sea silk woven on her loom, the gown is cut asymmetrically, with the back skirt panels trailing behind her while the front, pleated panels fall just below the knee. The bodice is cut off shoulder and lined with the fur of an albino mammoth from Frostmaw's wilds, with sleeves that are lined in the same fur. Miniscule embroidered snowflakes are stitched across the sleeves, bodice and skirt at random, with the silver thread enchanted to “melt”, unpicking the tiny stitches apart as they drift down the gown to reform into new snowflakes near the neckline. A light shawl of her sea silk dyed a crisp white, drapes over her shoulders. Her jewelry is simple – a tiny pair of silver snowflake earrings with a matching pendant, and circlet to keep her black curls away from her face. To complete the look a pair of flat, silver-laced sandals adorn her feet. With her hand holding onto Odhranos', to which the seamstress could be seen frequently looking fondly upon, she enters, while the other hand holds what is clearly a spear hastily wrapped in muslin with a bit of twine. A late gift for someone, it seems.

Kanna withdraws a folding fan and hides an amused smile behind it. "My, and I thought -I- knew how to make an entrance. Hi, Helga." Kanna waggles her fingers in familiar greeting to the giantess. Whether the pair actually knew each other was unknown to the Axe of Love.

Odhranos enters the ball on Iintahquohae's arm, cutting a complementary figure to the resplendent seamstress. He is similarly dressed in midnight blue, though he wears his cloth in modest dress-robes, open at the front to reveal a light grey waistcoat and trousers. The robes are made of silk brocade lined with wool for warmth, dusted in a similar, subtly animated snowflake motif to the seamstress's gown. Much as Odh would rather keep his attire plain and simple, when one wears Oohjmaeyik craft, there is no excuse for plainness. The clasps that bounce heavily at his collar are cast iron, glinting dully in the light of the ballroom, while his shoulders sport a spray of clear crystals, fanning upwards like glassy wings. These crystals seem to glitter and dance, seemingly a trick of the light from a distance, until once saw them up close. In truth, the crystals are swaying and fluttering like feathers as if beset by a fickle wind, enchanted to do so in a cooperative effort between terramancer and seamstress. Finally, Odhranos has swapped his Provosts’ sash for a blindfold of plain blue satin, which hugs the contours of his nose and cheekbones marvellously, leaving two tails of fabric trailing down his back where it is tied into his ponytail. Odhranos lets himself be led across the floor by Inks, murmuring quietly as she does so. “Thank Xalious, the floor here is stone! I might actually be able to find my way around now!” He flashes her a grin, then turns his head in the direction of Hildegarde’s voice when the Queen begins her speech, adding his voice to the cheers and clapping heartily. It will be good to meet some long absent friends again tonight.

Shishi is thus far thoroughly enjoying this year’s Titan of WInter season. While he is still the brightest star imaginable in this kingdom, the competing field has no shortage of brilliance to take much of the spotlight away from him. From returning tournament winners and finalists to the Queen of The Kingdom of War herself, this is perhaps the most anticipated and hyped up competition since the inaugural Titan’s Tournament. So it is with just a little less fanfare than usual that The Three Time Titan makes his entrance, dressed as expected in his usual simple clothing and accessorizing only with the gang known as The Living Dead Girls that traveled from The Champion’s Villa with him. Leralynn’s outfit, on the other hand, is smouldering. This is not a metaphor. The hem of the long, simple navy blue dress is scorched and burned away in places, and as she moves, parts of it glow like orange embers as if about to reignite. Obviously this is by some enchantment and there’s no real fire hazard to speak of… at least from the outfit, which shares the smouldering motif with Kanna’s entrance flare. They must have coordinated this. The only other accent piece the blonde half-elf sports is what appear to be a pair of antlers sprouting from a small crown atop her head, though upon further inspection, the dull white horns are actually composed of thin finger bones that on occasion show that there is still some unnatural life left in them…

Lanara enters the room on the arm of none other than her handsome boyfriend, Tiberius Lowell, her lush lips curving into a breathtaking smile as several heads turn to gape at the beautiful couple. "We -do- clean up quite nice, don't we, darling?" The witch gently squeezes the lycan's bicep as they slip in among those gathered, prepared to mingle with any of their acquaintances that may be in the crowd. Lanara looks ravishing in a form-fitting midnight blue gown, the light in the room amplifying the shimmer from the sequins and sparkles that adorn the fabric. Spaghetti straps rest upon her slender shoulders as the dress curves into a plunging neckline and clings to her shapely form until it ends at her ankles, where the tips of her silver heels peek from beneath a small train. On the right of the dress there is a slit in the fabric that runs all the way up to the middle of the woman's slender thigh, affording any onlookers with a tantalizing view. To guard against the constant chill wafting from the snowy exterior of the building, a luxurious gray fur wrap is draped across her upper arms and bare back, adding to the elegance of her appearance as well as providing warmth. Lanara's dark chestnut locks are worn in a classic fishtail braid with a few strands that hang loose and have been curled to add a more dramatic flair. A pair of diamond teardrop earrings dangle from her lobes, an hourglass pendant is worn around her neck, and silver bangles adorn her wrists. Lana's eyes are lined in a smoky shadow, a taupe-pink stain is on her lips, and a hint of glitter is on her high cheekbones to add to her fair features. A silver clutch is held in her hand, likely housing some makeup, should she need to refresh her look at some point in the evening. The witch looks up at Tiber, amusement in her gaze as she mutters, "I'm glad they didn't hire the Backstreet Bards for tonight's entertainment..." The couple holds a mutual dislike for a certain blonde band member and they can breathe easy knowing he won't be making an appearance. Upon hearing Queen Hildegarde's welcoming speech, Lanara joins in on the applause, smiling prettily.

Demeter did not really want to be here, but she was. She had styled her honey hue hair a tad different today, placing metal beads intertwined in places with axe and swords designed into them. Entire left side of her hair was French braids towards back of her head, rest was left in curls over to the right remaining hip length. As perusal she had hide the razor blades within. The left eyes had black makeup in the shape of a wing. Vertically along the pale pink lips the same black line that trailed from the top bottom line down to her chest. Never trying to hide the scar that starts at her forehead and across her face. Her attire consists of a leather sleeveless bodice revealing brass torc upon each arm. V-neck, and wide leather straps that cross over the open back same design across her chest leaving her lower mid torso exposed. Revealing the toned stomach, that has the matching design of tattoos apparent on her arms and collar bone. Such tattoos were black, with crimson outline, those knowing of the avian tattoos would most likely figure out their origin. Braided up leather pants upon her legs, with the two-inch spiked heel boots that are knee length, making her a height of 6’2. Anywhere the outfit did not cover showed her toned form, she was nothing but muscle and curves in this. Her wolf fur lined cloak of the illusion and sound was on, but sleeves rolled up. Keeping her charcoal wings and the sound of the feathers gone, unless one with keen eyesight, they then would see what she kept underneath the cloak. Otherwise, Demeter looking to be a kind of high elf. Looking anywhere with her grey eyes where she could grab a drink, once seen the Lamashtian would rush over to area. Requesting two shots that she would take back-to-back as her slight L shaped nose wrinkled at all those present, studying each person attending carefully. Debating on leaving, but heck, free drinks. Already she began smoking, exhaling large O rings.

Hildegarde has some mixed emotions upon seeing Josleen. She’s incredibly happy to see her old friend, but her unnatural child certainly does not amuse nor appeal to Hildegarde in any way, shape or form. “Josleen,” she greets in return, an arm curling around her to tighten their embrace. “Far too long, indeed,” she agreed with a little smile as she took a short step back to take Josleen in. As the Prince refuses to bow, Hildegarde only stares at him with a very poorly hidden look of amusement. He was stubborn, like his mother (and ignorant like his rock-headed father). “Prince,” she said once the tiniest of head bows had been completed, offering a nod of her own head in respect to the prince. “Ah, yes… but if we cannot mend the wounds of the past, then there is no hope for the future. Besides, it’s the only dress I’ll tolerate!” she said with a chortle, accepting Josleen’s management of the dress given that she had greater knowledge on formal ladieswear and the like.

Haakon nursed this drink and hoorahs with the crowd at the Queen’s entrance but had found himself distracted by a woman whose coat hinted at flashing armor beneath it. His long legs make short work of crossing the space between them. In an after thought he snags another drink on the walk by and offers it out with a roguish smile. “Haakon,” The vampire offers. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Talyara had the foresight to suggest that she and Krice spend the day in his room at the fort and get ready for the ball there. While the warrior might not have trouble navigating the cold and snow in more formal attire, the witch, who was wearing a dress and heels, would. When the couple enter arm and arm, Taly is adorned in an elegant looking gown. The skirt was a full, floor length satin in a bright emerald green hue which mimicked the color of her eyes. The bodice was made entirely of black lace appliqués, with keyhole pieces on her arms to expose her skin. It was long sleeved and off the shoulder, accentuating the witch's clavicle and shoulder blades (where old scars also peaked out from under the lace). A simple pair of black heels were worn but not seen under her skirt, and in the lobes of her slightly tapered ears were a pair of diamond solitaires, a gift from her beloved. The only other piece of jewelry was an amethyst ring. Talyara's hair, which was normally a mess of curls had been smoothed into voluminous waves which the witch had then pinned up into a bun, leaving a few pieces free to frame her face. As usual, she didn't wear much makeup, just a bit of rouge on her cheeks, a sweep of mascara on her lashes, and a swipe of gloss to add some shine to her lips.

Tiber walks tall next to the, one and only, beautiful Lanara Banks--who also happens to be his girlfriend, so maybe he is just biased, but he thinks not. The lycan has a sort of ease about him in his stroll, yet an intimidation factor that lines his face. Perhaps because there is an underlying jealousy when it comes to other males turning their heads to look at the Kelvarian elf. Speaking of face, the blonde had a lightly stubbled face to keep the edge about him, but he made sure to shave his neck. His short, wavy blonde hair is slicked with product on the sides, but his hair still rests wavy on top of his head. The strands go in multiple directions, as wavy hair does, but they are stylish in their own messy way. As for Tiberius’ outfit for the evening, he is subtle with his attire next to the glittering midnight blue dress that Lanara wears. He wears a midnight blue suit--thanks Frostmaw for the last minute rental! Anyway, the lapel on the suit is made of midnight blue silk and runs down until the break point. At the break point rests a silver button to shape Tiber’s lean frame. Underneath the suit is a plain white button up, but what strikes is the silver bow tie that glimmers against the light. The touch of silver coordinates with Lanara’s shoes, of course. The woman said it was a ‘must’. Instead of bickering over the plain black tie over the silver, the witch one the battle automatically. The slacks that the man wears are simple and also midnight blue to match the suit jacket. Knowing the lycan, of course he is wearing loafers. Black. Even though they are in Frostmaw, he never minded the cold, and well, it was for the ball, people. As for Lanara’s comment about the Backstreet Bards, he gives off a sneer for a moment before smiling like he did not have a temper. “Good, I thought I was going to have to backhand a certain someone tonight and crash the party.”

Lanara looks a little traumatized when she hears Mathollak referring to an 'organ' of love, and she scrunches her nose in disgust.

Meri ’s attention was pulled by the entrance that Kanna makes and her gaze lingers on the bardess because of the company that she seems to keep. Namely Quintessa. The blonde had a half a mind to go up to the trio of girls and introduce herself to the two unfamiliar faces but this line of thinking is derailed by Haakon and his offer of a drink. A brow is lifted, the blonde half tempted to offer nothing but snark and sass at the offering. His name saves him from her any poor behavior she was thinking about displaying. The offered drink is instead accepted with an easy going to smile and a wink, “Ah, my opponent. Or so I hear at least. Good to put a name to the face.” The hand that is not holding a drink is offered out, “Meri.”

Brennia is not wearing a gown due to a professor's meeting from both The University of Schezerade and the DeVere College of Bardic Arts that ran a little late. Instead, the professor is wearing a women's suit with a floor length maroon jacket with the shirt and pants to match. The shirt is more of a slimming leotard which has a V cut in the back for her large black feathered wings, but that is all covered up by her wings and jacket for now. The leotard is tucked neatly into the high waisted flared suit pants and accentuates the narrowness there with a large red leather belt which has a golden belt buckle. At first, the only thing that can be seen is her wings which are curved around her like a cloak in order to keep the snow off her outfit, but as they open up and tuck closely to the frame of her body, Brennia takes her leather gloves off as her solid teal gaze inspects the crowd for her love. Concern written all over her face as she hopes she isn't too late and her date won't be too cross with her. After shoving her gloves within the pockets of her floor length wool jacket, she makes quick work of getting out of the way to dust any snow off of her black soft leather high heeled boots after running her fingers through her long black hair, but making sure not to disrupt the loose curls. Although Brennia is much thinner than what people might remember and the luster of those black wings have dulled, she looks quite happy with rosy cheeks as she looks for Zahrani.

Mathollak looks up at his date, who was a full two feet taller than he was. "You do!" Said Mathollak's date. Then he adds a small quip, "NOW, you do."

Ernest 's compass started twisting rapidly, which implied that his target was here, now. Perfect. Just as planned. He stalked in the direction the compass pointed, boots clink, clink, clinking ominously, until he stood directly behind the Titan with a malicious grin. "I did say," he drawled slowly, "that y'ain't gettin' away from me so easy this time." He raised an eyebrow at Leralynn, then back at Shishi with a look of disapproval. "You gonna hide behind yer kid all th' time now?"

Josleen, like Lanara, is traumatized at the organ of love too, but she glances at Mathollak and smiles despite his antics. He’s a true ally to Larket and the current Hero of Freedom. He’s eccentric, but then again… look at this room. As others approach Hildegarde, Josleen steps out of the way to let the dragon queen tend to her guests.

Zahrani patiently waits near the entrance to the great hall, the feline sharply dressed in a navy blue suit and tie, covered by a long wool overcoat. A black scarf is wrapped smartly below her neck, lining up with the diagonal edges of her coat. Her curly black hair is braided meticulously, the individual braids pulled back into a ponytail clasped into place by a lovely opalescent hairclip. The paladin has a confident air about her. The kind that seems to say, ~I'm going to win every heart in this room.~ Her black tail swishes smoothly behind her where she stands, before her cyan gaze turns to see Brennia hectically making her way inside and brushing off her outfit, the panther's androgynous face lights up in a warm smile. She makes a beeline for her lover, waiting for her to notice before wrapping her arms around the avian and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Good to see you."

Lanara tightens her grip on Tiber's arm as she swears one of the servers is trying to undress the man with her eyes. "All these perversions..." She mutters, as moments prior a man yelled about his love organ and now some tramp was eyeing her date! The witch points across the room to Shishi, "It's the People's Champ, Ty! I have his autograph, you know."

Iintahquohae practically beamed at Odhranos' grin, then peered down at her feet. Stone floors, she noted. “I suppose I have some remodeling to do at home, don't I?” The cabin and the shop. Her fingers regripped the spear in her hand while she looked about the room. Where could Gorehilt be? She hadn't asked if he was coming to the ball, but that meant her gift would be extra weight for now. No matter. She was with the terramancer for the evening, and that was far more important. “It's nice, being at one of these things and not...working,” she murmurs, and finds herself grinning yet again. “Is there anyone in particular you want to go, Odh?”

Haakon had only secured his entry into the tournament earlier that week and, save for the most notable names on the already lengthy roster, was after facetime with his potential opponents. As luck would have it, he’d found what was hopefully only the first of his contenders. His brows wing at this luck. “Ah, well, that is something then,” He responds, offering out his own hand as well. “May the gods bless us both then, Meri.” Because the room was quickly filling, the vampire parts from her and slips back into the growing crowd.

Kanna eyes the drink bar with a glint of mischief in her eyes. She wondered, now that she could eat human foods again, could she have human drinks too? The ghoul shuffles to the bar, and realizes far too late that this bar was designed for the taller residents of Frostmaw. This was clearly dwarf-discrimination, Kanna huffed to herself despite there being no dwarves present. The bardess raises her folding fan in an attempt to get the bartender's attention, though all they would see is her hand and fan. "One Winter Sunrise, please!"

Krice likewise had gone to the effort of dressing for the occasion, though maintained ease of movement in the practicality of his choices; a pressed black shirt fitted to the contours of his toned frame, sleeves open to each wrist, matching slacks a little less baggy than his usual, and polished boots (he never wore dress shoes; uncomfortable and useless) to complete a put-together look. Against his left hip, his ever-present black katana, as ready for use as it was dormant. After spending the previous night at his quarters in the western halls, it was no trouble at all for the pair to cross the fort directly for the gathering. Once at the outskirts of the group, Krice slowed to a halt; from there, he would follow Talyara's choice of where they next went. After acknowledging Hildegarde's arrival by simply observing it (pomp and ceremony were not his thing), the warrior projected his attention outward to gauge the overall energy of the crowd, thereafter narrowing his focus to smaller pockets of people if specific auras caught his interest--Meri off for a drink, the vampiric male he had never seen, Quotes looking relatively stable, Lanara looking... literally different. And then there was a certain infamous trio who deserved a little less than the pleasantries of this affair, but he wasn't one for troublemaking. If their presence inspired any ire within the enigmatic swordsman, he coolly reserved it for private dismissal later.

Leander entered the room in ordinary clothing, wearing an expression of surprise. He had not come here expecting a formal event, but his shearling coat had been taken and, in the interest of curiosity, he was now here, unshaven and underdressed. He found himself instantly accosted by people bearing drinks. He took one, a short glass with an amberish liquid inside, it portended well. Leander drank, stepping forward into the room at large, and only belated remembered he had come here with the question. Too late, the waiter had moved on.

Svard had thought he'd all but blend amidst the gathered, a shifting mass of strange faces in a strange place, blanketed by the cold at his back and the wind that swept across the frozen place just a bit beyond. It was not to be. He'd misjudged, entirely, the nature of the affair. Something about the weather had given him false airs about fashion. And so, entering steadily, the hulking smith found himself most inappropriately attired. A fur-trimmed gambeson of wool, earthen brown, with polished brass buttons marks his outerwear. Each button detailed, by a master's hand, an elk's regal visage. His pants thick, well-brushed wool of charcoal. A bear-skin cloak hung heavy on his shoulders, volumous and regal, with the ursine head roaring atop his own in a mighty, tribal motiff. The dark ink that flanked his eye, cheek, and neck gave him a far wilder look than most, matching with the thick beard adorned with small brass beads that were polished to catch the light. But, aware as he might be to how odd his dress, there is no hesitation as he moves amidst the group. His stride a prowling gait, predatory almost, even as he offers a wide smile. The room is, after all, full of far fancier people than he'd ever had imagined.

Hildegarde barely hides a cringe at the cacophony that is the organ of love. “Excuse me,” she murmurs to Josleen politely as she makes her leave to circulate around the room as all good monarchs ought to do. She’ll start with some familiar faces and then branch out to the strangers, gotta start comfortably. Lanara is there, that’s a familiar face, Brennia too. But the fact that catches her attention the most is that of Odhranos and the blindfold that covers his eyes, which so strongly implies that part of him has changed. The Silver makes her way to him in unladylike strides, stopping before him and announcing herself to him and Iintahquohae, “Hello you two,” she offers politely with a little smile (which she rapidly feels self-conscious about because Odhranos can’t even see it, idiot!). Automatically and with familiarity, Hildegarde’s hand reaches out to gently clasp the shoulder of Odhranos. “It’s good to see you again, my friend,” she smiles and grits her teeth because she said ‘see you’ to a blind man. She had lost her own eye a long time ago, surely she could be a little more sensitive about it.

Odhranos smirks and bumps shoulders with Inks. "There's no need to go to that much trouble, honestly. Besides, I like the cabin the way it is, I'd be sad to see it change. Plus your father would have a heart attack if we started lifting the floorboards of the shop, who knows what we'd find?" Nonetheless, Odhranos hand squeezes the seamstresses arm fondly at the suggestion. "Well, if it's not too much trouble, I wouldn't mind if we could talk to Hildegarde. If she's not swamped with guests, that is."

Lanara looks around the room and spies a handsome vampire speaking to her best friend and she quirks a brow. Was Haakon hitting on Meri?! Always overthinking, the witch gives Meri a thumbs up and waggles her eyebrows, as though she approves of their encounter. Hopefully, Meri will come over and give her details, also because Lana wants to compliment the psion on her fancy armor attire.

Mathollak happens to spot Demeter near his favorite locale, the drink station. He offers her a bottle of beer, the cap still tightly sealed. "Now you know it isn't poison. Ha." His eyes linger on the scar a little, but take in her entire outfit as well. "There's something different about you. It's definitely you because of the," he draws a line down his face.

Brennia catches the sight of Zahrani and a giddy smile cracks across her whole face, causing dimples to poke in her cheeks. The view is astounding as her love cuts quite the look in a suit like that, but what touched her the most was the hairclip. "Oh, I've missed you, love," she says, returning the hug and the kiss. After a motion to her attire, "I am under-dressed. I had my gown laid out and everything," that contagious raspy giggle bubbles up as she shrugs. "What'll you do," she concluded dismissively.

Josleen mingled with the few in Frostmaw’s court who would still be chummy with her. In truth, much of Frostmaw’s nobility had grown frosty with the Larketian Queen ever since the little situation with witches. Having blown through the rolodex of who’s who in Frostmaw, Josleen grabbed herself a flute of champagne and stood near the dancefloor appreciating the music. She bounced a little in her hips, wanting very much badly to dance.

Demeter ’s grey eyes looked over to Kanna, seeing the short woman beside or rather near her. Was she asking her for a drink? “Do I look like a bartender?” She asked with an arch brow, looking to the barkeep. “You heard her.” No emotion in her voice, once they accepted her order she would offer the drink that Kanna ordered to her. Looking back to the barkeep, “Another for me.” There was so many more fancy dressed than her, woman in dresses. Here she looked like she was heading to a fight but felt bare without her sword. Constantly forgetting she did not bring it with her, a painful reminder each time her left hand went to rest on where it should had been.

Meri ’s grin lingers upon her lips as Haakon dips and then out of the conversation, fully understanding. The room was filling up, there was a lot of people to mingle with. The blonde did nothing to detain him, she only offered an easy going salute. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch.” They had details to arrange after all. It was not long after her brief exchange with Haakon finds it’s close that Meri notices a number of faces she is quite familiar with. There was Tibara. And Talyara/Krice. Did they have one of those conjoined couples names? Meri’s player is not sure what it is. That’s really beside the point though, the point is….! Once she notices them she greets them all with a wave from a distance. Maybe she’ll meander over in a bit, but first she is going to drain this drink that Haakon passed off to her, and then get herself a fresh one.

Tiber does not notice any ogle eyes. He’s an oblivious man with women, and that was how the cookie crumbled most days. Lanara’s next words, strike him and his eyes dart around the room to find the Titan of Winter. “And you haven’t said anything until -now-? I didn’t know you liked duels." Pause. "Let's go get a drink."

Shishi feels a shiver run up his spine at the sound of those clinks. Predictably his oceanic stare narrows and he puffs out his cheeks, though he doesn't bother to look towards Ernest when responding, "I get in trouble when I let her run off on her own... But read the room..." The so-called Blue Demon sends out a wave and a wink towards Lanara or some other super fan looking his way, "This isn't the place, same as the tavern wasn't. If you can find me so easily, I'm sure your time will come..." Fanged smile for the crowd and Orange and Blue move further into the room, away from the mummified nemesis.

Odhranos had no sooner made the suggestion than the voice of the Silver Queen herself sounded from close by. Odhranos' turns with surprise, jumps slightly at the hand landing on his shoulder, then settles, a broad smile scrunching his cheeks. "And it is even better to hear you, my friend. It has been too long, how are you?" Odhranos, in lieu of a hug or handshake, places his hand over Hildegard's as affectionately as he can.

Zahrani shrugs at Brennia's self-assessment of her attire. "You look beautiful. Come, let us see who there is to see." The feline gently takes the avian's hand, surveying the crowd of faces. Lots of familiar ones, and a few that were less so. The organ of love gets a look from the paladin. "I guess I missed out on some interesting things while I was working."

Tiber looks at Lanara's thumbs up and eyes trail to Meri, who looks rad, and then the guy who wanders away from her. He does not get Lanara's thumbs up at all.

Svard seemed, quite literally, thrilled. A loud, hearty laugh left him as he moved through the crowd. No particularly greetings offered to any, oblivious to who held station and who did not. It seemed, quite literally, as if he'd stumbled into royalty. And when an attendant drifted by, a lissome little fellow, he quickly reached out to take hold of a tankard of ale and a cakelog with thick, gnarled fingers. To those near him, he smelled. Not badly, mind you, but strongly - of incense and charcoal, with spiced oil rubbed into his beard and combed through it to keep it neat and prepare it for the beads he'd gone to great trouble to wear. And, while it all seemed a bit proper, it was certainly fancy beyond measure. The food would be good. The drink better. And that was a win all of its own.

Demeter accepted the drink after she downs the shot, she just received. The grey eyes smirk for her instead her lips that remain emotionless, “Definitely learning, Mattie.” Twisting the top off, taking a long drink finishing half of it before she spoke again. “It is me, with the wonderful scar from my first training exercise.” Pausing, “You know anyone here?”

Iintahquohae snickers. “You're right. Father's head would flip! And Mother would nit pick about every piece of stone along the way.” She give the terramancer's hand a little squeeze, while her eyes begin scanning the room for one of the two queens that milled about. “Hildegarde? Absolutely, let's go -” she pauses mid-sentence, as Frostmaw's Queen has already reached them. She releases the terramancer's hand in order to curtsy, and flashes another grin. She could get used to this smiling thing. Inks didn't expect the queen to remember her, but she greets her all the same. “Hildegarde! It has been...Goodness, years since I've seen you.”

Kanna graciously takes the drink with Demeter's assistance to relay the order. She sips the drink cautiously, then brightens up. It tasted sweet! "Thank you, love!" Looking over her outfit, she gives a grin. "If you're looking to intimidate your opponent, I think you look even tougher than the Queen right now. Are these Gualonian tattoos?" Kanna begins the idle conversation before catching sight of a familiar figure and straightens up. "Oh wow, he came here too?"

Talyara casts her gaze around the room, the little witch always feeling a little awkward at these type of events. But Meri's wave is met with an easy smile and soon Taly is tugging Krice along with her. "Meri, hi! It's been too long!" If she would permit, Taly would pull her into a quick hug before doing the same to her sister who greeted the blonde just a moment before her. "Lana! You look gorgeous as ever! Tiber, it's nice to see you climbed the mountain again!"

Hildegarde spies the wave from Lanara from the corner of her eye, offering a friendly wave in return and a winning smile. She'll probably swing by soon for a catch up.

Tiber catches the wink that was thrown at Lanara from Shishi himself. Tiber's mouth gapes, and he is seriously conflicted with whether to be angry or not. Was it jealousy of the wink or jealousy that Shishi singled his girlfriend out specifically?! Tiberius Lowell is frazzle dazzled.

Haakon charted his path through the throngs of party goers to near the Queen. Fortune favors the bold, etc. It was also in the sake of time management that he did so, wisely guessing that the crowd would be particularly concentrated around the warrior of the hour. He continued to sample the fine champagne as he picked and charmed his way through the mess of people, making small conversation or polite but short hellos to those he knew. Eventually, he’s near enough to offer her a welcome. The vampire hadn’t bothered to bring her a drink as he had Meri. Perhaps his manners were failing him. “Your majesty,” Haakon offers a bow, “I am Haakon Adalstein, a contender in the tournament here. It’s simple truth I hope to meet you again on the field.” His smile was confident and filled with humor.

Mathollak said to Josleen, "Would you like to dance?"

Zahrani turns towards Talyara as she hears the witch's voice greeting several others. The panther grabs a champagne flute, and should Taly or Lana make eye contact with her, the paladin will smile warmly and wave. Gods, it had been such a long time.

Leander drank some of the amber liquid in his glass. It was whiskey, and warmed his throat as he purposelessly strode into the room. No sense inquiring whether the regular business here was halted today, it certainly was. He'd take some of the passed appetizers and leave, come back another day. Perhaps others had the same idea. He found himself in the present vicinity of Svard, clad not dissimilarly, comparatively. And, apparently, smelling terrible, but humans often smelled unpleasant. Nonetheless Leander, seeking answers and usually not one to break a silence, lifted his chin in acknowledgment. "I came here about a letter I received," he said by way of greeting. "Not from around here, so I didn't know."

Lanara smirks, because Tiber has zero idea about the fact that she had been in several judged fights over the years, included a mud wrestling cage match with her sister! "Yes. I healed him after a duel, and he autographed a poster for me." It's at that exact moment that Shishi looks up and winks at Lana, and the witch freezes, because she's a diehard fan -and- because Tiberius has a bit of a temper and may end up socking his apparent man crush. "Um. A drink would be great!"

Demeter attention went back to Kanna, not saying ‘you’re welcome’ really needing to work on socializing. “No, they are for my kind. So far, I haven’t seen my kind around.” Taking in Kanna outfit, “You look nice.” Her nose wrinkles as she attempts to give a compliment.

Tiber almost loses it people, but then Talyara comes into view and sweeps his jealous-raging mind away for a moment. Tiber would have to have a serious talk with Lanara later. Eyes shift to Talyara and look her up and down before giving a sarcastic smile. “Ha. Ha. At least we are here to stay for a day or two more. You look beautiful, Talyara.” At least Tiber is polite enough.

Josleen spies Krice in the crowd and moves through it to greet her old friend. “Krice! I didn’t expect to find you here.” She had not seen him in years, not since becoming Queen, and suddenly she didn’t know if she should hug him or wait for him to bow. The champagne was already making her loose and she leaned forward for a brief embrace. Just as she was about to ask Krice to dance, the Hero of Freedom invited the Queen to dance. “Krice, give me one moment. I’ll be right back. I’d love to dance with you, too.” Queen Josleen turns towards Mathollak and smiles, feeling completely safe despite the man’s eccentricity. He was the Hero of Freedom, after all. “The organ of love was quite an entrance,” she says as she falls into step and follows his lead.

Brennia blushes at Zahrani's compliment as there is a fluttering sensation in the pits of her stomach and her grin softens to a bashful one. When the paladin mentions looking for people to greet, she does look as well, but concern knits her brow together as she looks out to the crowd. When he gaze catches Hildegarde, there is a pensive soft smile on her lips, but she doesn't have the guts to just walk up to her and strike up a conversation. Brennia feels warm all of the sudden and she glances longingly to an empty table as she silently wishes to just sit, but it seems they are off to interact. Her gaze follows Zahrani's nod and Brennia matches the gesture to Talyara who is surely standing with Lanra and a guy she knows as August, but Brennia skips the champagne tonight.

Odhranos turns to grin at Iintahquohae. "I can tell you for certain there's at least three stashes of coin, but where they are will remain a secret between myself and himself." Odh sticks out his tongue teasingly then turns back to the conversation. "I had forgotten your two knew each other. This world is far too small." Odhranos ruffles his hair sheepishly as he looks up to where he assumes Hildegarde to be. "Inks has been kind enough to house me for… Sven, what has it been… nearly a year now? She's a saint, truly." Odh's words are coloured with fondness.

Svard had no awareness of space, or the room's flow. He seems, quite always, to be in the way of attendants, guests, and the like. His wanderings aimless, taking in the room's thematic tapestry and the milling conversations of all those nearby. Hints of words, pleasantries, laughter. And all the while he absolutely demolishes a cakelog, all but slamming it into his face, with a good natured smile - oblivious to the remnants that hang in his beard for precious moments before he bends forwards with a laugh and ruffles them out with two large hands. He takes a particularly healthy slug from the tankard and, with wide eyes, considers the contents after. It seems inevitable that someone takes notice he's a stranger and throws him out. He's content to make the most of it. When the other man approaches him, he half expects that to be the reason, but shakes his head. The Norseman's measure warm. "Food's good." He said in return to Leander. And then, thrusting a large hand out, offered a wild-eyed smile. "Svard the Smith."

Ernest let Shishi go, again. As much as he hated to admit it, the man was right. Not here, not now. But soon. Instead, he disappeared again, clinking his way through the crowd, until he spotted another familiar face. Sidling up, his presence announced by his footsteps, he tipped his hat to Lanara with a grin. "What a surprise seein' you here," he said, cordially enough. It wasn't like he held a grudge from when they fought--he understood why an outside observer hadn't understood what was going on--but he suspected this might be a good opportunity to maybe set up another encounter.

Mathollak dances with Josleen for a quick song, while his date Helga mingles. Notably she doesn't spend any time with Hildegarde or the other giants, on the off chance she might be recognized. With Josleen, Mathollak dances in a way that he considers to be quite boring, not wanting to overwhelm the queen. "Thank you, Your Majesty," taking the neutral statement as a compliment. "I only pray it doesn't get beat up too much if too many people play with it."

Tiber watches his girlfriend’s reaction. Was she stunned by Shishi’s glory? His manliness? The man then gently reaches Lanara’s hand to guide her away to the refreshments. “Something strong for the both of us,” he says to the server, and with Tiber’s gaze. He means quickly.

Hildegarde felt the slight jump of Odhranos under her hand and felt her gut sink with a feeling of regret. As Iintaquohae elects to curtsy to her, the knight shakes her head and jerks her halberd up twice in a short burst, “None of that, not to me!” she tells her, refusing the curtsy. Formality was so awkward and unnecessary at a fun event such as this. A meeting between royals, sure, or a tete-a-tete before battle, absolutely. But friends? They bow to no-one. “I am well, my friend,” she tells Odhranos, “but I think you and I must have a catch up soon. It seems that I have been quite out of the loop since our last conversation,” she is politely referring to his blindfold as she gently lifts her hand from his shoulder once it feels right to do so. “It’s so good to see you both here, my friends.” Hildegarde’s attention is pulled away from the pair as Haakon makes his way to Hildegarde, offering her a polite bow and savvy introduction. “M’lord,” she replied with a polite bow of her head, “it is an honour to meet a fellow contender. Perhaps we shall do battle in the tournament! My halberd and I have rested long enough,” she tells him with a smile. “Even if we do not meet, you come see me sometime and we can have a match. It is the truth of Frostmaw, that the best way of knowing someone is to test them in battle,” she tells him, extending her hand to him in expectation of grasping his forearm in the traditional warrior’s shake.

Lanara hugs Talyara tightly and pulls back to admire the elf's attire, beaming with pride at how lovely she looked. "You are stunning, as always! Although... I really thought you would have worn the neck warmer. It would match perfectly!" There's a pause, as Tiber compliments her sister, and she clenches her jaw and those eyes darken. He -had- kissed Taly first, several years ago, and she is brimming with jealousy. "Where's Krice?" Lana peers up and catches Zahrani's eye, and she replies with a wave.

Tiber cannot even notice Lanara's jealousy because he is so swirled in his own. It is a whole mess, really.

Meri :: Dear Lanara, as much as Meri loves you? She's very pointedly ignoring that thumbs up and those nods of encouragement. In fact, she's only all the more relieved that Haakon did move on his way as a result of this. Let's not give the blonde a panic attack tonight or anything, she's good. More welcome is the hug that Talyara attempts to give her. Meri's never been known to be the most affectionate person, but she definitely is accepting of the hug from the little witch.

Kanna smiles up at the tall woman. "Thank you! I love seeing different fashions all come together, but the armors are the most telling for one's background." The ghoul plucks a mandrake flower from her hair and offers it up to Demeter. "A gift for us greeting one another. When in a situation where swords will not be suitable, but a nice cup of tea may suit the occasion better, mandrake blossoms are very useful."

Talyara gives Tiber an appreciative smile when he compliments her and is quick to issue one back. "And you look very handsome! How long did it take for you to agree to the bowtie?" She might not know the werewolf all the well, but the silver bowtie screamed Lanara's idea! When Josleen embraces Krice and speaks of dancing with him, Taly gives the pair a curious side eye. She didn't realize the two had been such close friends! Turning her attention back to Lana she gives her sister a careful smile. "Ah! Yes the neck warmer! I, uh, meant to wear it of course! But we stayed here at the fort last night and I forgot it. Yes, that's it!"

Odhranos nods gravely. "Indeed, we must. But don't let me keep you, I'm sure half the room wants to say hello. I hope you enjoy your night!" Odhranos smiles cheerily as Hildegarde departs

Mathollak spots Meri clothed in a similar manner to himself. Tournament ready! “I don’t believe we’ve met...but you look like a contender. Would you care to dance?”

Talyara adds. "Krice was just here...somewhere." Maybe they had gotten separated in the crowd?

Leander gazed at Svard's hand for a moment before cutting his gaze upward to meet the other man's eyes. "Leander," he said simply, reaching to clasp the other man's hand in greeting. The kraken had learned to convincingly shake hands over the course of his assimilation into the society of man, so that's what he did. Leander drank from the well of his whiskey glass and considered the room at large, the dancing, the tangle of high society. And them. Perhaps due to their mutual status as apparent fish out of water, it made natural sense to Leander to inquire with the other man, "Maybe you can help me. Not familiar with this place, but I received a letter recently stating that Frostmaw has been harboring a displaced foreign royal who is seeking to recover his fortune, and in order to do so, requires me to open a bank account and deposit some of my own funds." Leander's gaze cut back to Svard in a question mark.

Lanara blinks at Ernest for a moment, as though trying to recall how they are acquainted and then it dawns on her, "Yes! I remember our fight!" Trent was the other, in a triple threat match, if she recalls correctly. "I hope you enjoy your evening!" Tiber is tugging her towards the drinks and she dotingly snuggles closer to the lycan, "You are strong, Babe. That's all the strength I need."

Haakon grasped Hildegarde’s forearm without hesitation, his smile lingering. “I’ll take you up on that,” He promises with a curt nod. The Queen of Frostmaw’s ability in battle might have been intimidating, but the vampire was arrogant and not afraid of taking his share of losses. The road to success was paved with failure. It would be an honor to notch his belt with a losing spar to the Queen. Never one to linger over long, Haakon says a polite farewell and steps away. As his drink was now empty, his next mark was the bar.

Krice 's eye caught the movement of Meri's hand. In response to the greeting, he nodded; such a bright and sunshiny peach he was. When Talyara began to move, he took the hint and moved with her. Straight to the waving blonde with all the tattoos. His expression softened amicably as they neared, though Talyara's wish to hug the woman ensured that he and the elf separated to facilitate it - without the warrior himself having to hug the scion. Meri and Krice were peas in a pod in that sense, avoiding unsolicited hugs (if his writer's memory serves). Apart from the workings of his inner pod of interactions, the warrior remained privy to those beyond; Haakon the Unfamiliar chatting with Hilde (who would receive a nod if she looked his way), the blind-folded Odhranos... And all at once, his space was invaded by a woman far too friendly to suffer for long. Josleen. It had been years since they had engaged in any kind of meaningful interaction, so her forwardness was a bit too forward. He bristled, almost visibly, stiffening in her brief embrace and fixing a grimacing smirk her way. " I don't dance," he mumbled under his breath, thereafter sparing Talyara a sideways glance - acknowledging her - before Lanara's use of his name compelled him into a few casual steps in the opposite direction.

Zahrani didn't know many of the people who had come. Scanning the remaining faces, her cyan gaze alights on Meri. They had been on a couple adventures together, and the paladin keeps the psionic woman in fond memories, a beautiful and powerful friend. She offers a casual wave of greeting before turning back to Brennia. "Anyone you want to say hello to, or shall we take a seat?" The feline seems in tune to the avian's body language and where her love's eyes were wandering. Social events like this can get overwhelming to Rani as well, if she gets too much attention drawn to her.

Lanara pointedly glances at her sister and points to Josleen as she embraces Krice. What was going on?! Lana points to her chest, then her eyes, and finally to to Krice, as though warning her sister to keep an eye on them. Josleen had 'stolen' Ansel long ago, and they didn't need a repeat.

Demeter took the offered mandrake flower that Kanna had plucked from her hair, looking to her face then back to the flower. Placing the blossom inside a pocket of the wolf fur lined cloak, “Thank you.” She struggled to say. “I hope you enjoy your evening miss.” Placing her left arm over her torso, offering a curt bow. Finishing the beer Mathollak gave her, ordering a drink for both her hands leaving the bar to stand against a wall nearby. The viking looking woman kept her eyes scanning each person.

Hildegarde catches the nod from the enigmatic Krice and fires one right back his way as Haakon makes his leave.

Iintahquohae grins. “I believe it! He's always kept secret stashes of well, everything at home,” she replies to Odh, then realizes that she is probably blushing at Odhranos' comments about her. ...Do vampires blush? “And so are you,” she replies, attempting to not sound as sheepish. “Anyone who can put up with my nonsense is actually a saint.” Hildegarde's refusal of the curtsy is heartwarming. “It's good to know you're doing well.” When the Silver Queen mentions catching up with Odh, she takes it as a cue to leave momentarily. Casting a glance at the spear in her hand, she says, “I need to deliver this to the person I had it made for, actually – How about you two catch up,” the seamstress suggests, giving Odhranos' hand a parting squeeze. “I won't be far away,” she whispers to the terramancer. “I'm looking for Gorehilt and I'll be right back.”

Lanara smiles sweetly at Krice as he catches all her finger pointing and eyeballing.

Tiber receives his drink before pivoting back into the social game. Amber eyes focus on Talyara. The jealousy begins to die because he knows that Lanara will leave with him and she said he was strong, so that was an auto ego-boost. Hopefully. He keeps a close eye on Ernest, but focuses again on Talyara. “Considering it sparkles, you can probably guess."

Svard took a moment. The cut of his eyes, sea-green, ran across the other's features as his hand lowered. To this he shook his head. No, no. It wouldn't do. The tankard in his hand was lifted again and drained steadily and when it lowered some of the dense, darker blond whiskers beneath his lips were wetted. This was no concern of his. And instead, with those sharp eyes, he offered a low and intense reply. "A man tends to his own affairs, yeah? Makes him strong. Makes him keen. You're doing more for this friend to offer him shelter and food while he gathers himself. Not paltry coin. And your axe should he need to recover what was taken by force." And then, slinging a massive arm over Leander's shoulders, the bear-cloaked Smith offered him a low, conspiratorial measure of darker advice. "A goat. Under a keen moon. Slit it from chin to crouch over a blue-flamed fire. Pray. Pray, friend. For favor to your fellow. May the Gods bless him."

Josleen grinned at Krice’s bristling and rejection of a dance. As expected, some men never change, but she always found that amusing about him. As a Queen, it was more amusing still. On the dance floor, Josleen says in a low voice to Mathollak, “I am impartial in this tournament, but if I weren’t I would root for you to put on a good showing for Larket!” The song wraps up and Josleen leaves the dance floor to grab a second flute of champagne. Again she looked as though she were itching to dance.

Meri : :Would. Meri. Care. To. Dance. What. No. No. No. However the blonde is going to shoot down this offer with a bit more grace then her internal reaction to this offer. Mathallok is given a slow grin, “Ah, we might get the chance to dance. But I don’t think that will come tonight. I suppose we’ll have to see if we end up getting far enough along to be matched up in a fight together. Then we can dance.” Yes, that is the only sort of dancing that Meri is interested in. Zahrani is also given a wave amidst all the chaos of the party. There was a lot going on and Meri was still interested in introducing herself to that chick that she saw Quintessa come in with. You know, the cute bard.

Ernest called to Lanara as she was tugged away, "We should do it again sometime!" And then he was once again by himself. This is what you get for spending all your time on business, Ernest. Shrugging, he slipped back into the crowd--but only briefly. This time he had a purpose for where he was going. That -machine- that had been hauled in. That -contraption-. He had to see how it worked. And so, the clinking boots marched over towards the Organ Of Love; as depressingly-named as it was, it still bore close examination. If he could locate its owner nearby, he'd then proceed to locate Mathollak and tap him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. "'Scuse me, sir, don't mean to intrude, name's Ernest Crane." He doffed his hat briefly in greeting. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to walk me through how to work that Organ of yours?"

Odhranos let's the noise and mayhem of the ball wash over him as he stands at Inks' side. Though the gorgeous sights of the ball are lost on him now, he can at least appreciate the joyful cacophony of happy voices, and with his magic, he can make out the shifting sea of silvery footprints as they dance and clatter over the stone floor of the ball. He turns and nods as Inks departs, suddenly finding himself adrift in this strange noisy sea. He ponders staying put, then a familiar scent reaches him through the crowd. A particular scent that only a certain avian has the tendency to exude. Odhranos turns in pursuit, weaving slowly through the silvery mass of footprints, as he seeks out Brennia.

Shishi ’s daughter, after boredly putting in face time around the event with her father, makes a few moves to gather up Kanna and Quintessa for ToW gift giving time. ‘Come here. I have presents~’ Once she has their attention she produces two silver rings, holding them one in each hand between thumb and forefinger after switching hands so the appropriate piece is presented to each Living Dead Girl. She smirks, tilts her head and says simply, “Fire magic,” before handing the two enchanted items over. They are warm to the touch and glow with orange runes inside the bands. “I spent a couple weeks on them, so they won’t be like that…” she lowers her voice, “...skeleton from the Druid’s Tree, but they should be pretty strong… Until you use them, they’ll keep you warm, so you can wear cute stuff up here without worrying about the cold.” She goes on to explain how they’re one-shot each, as with most of her creations like this, and that the effects are aimed by finger pointing and triggered by magic word, again in lockstep with her previous enchantments. Tuned against their respective first round opponents, Tessa’s ring will fire an explosive fire lance, while Kanna’s will create a magical flashbang effect, that will both reveal and disorient those caught in the blast…

Hildegarde offered Odhranos and Iintaquohae a polite smile, “Until we meet again,” she tells them both as she turns to depart and do her social duty of mingling. Glancing around the hall of the fort, she sees those familiar faces and those unfamiliar faces. She overhears a mention of the gods and feels her ears prick up in curiosity, but it must be forgotten for now. “Lanara,” she calls out, making her way smoothly towards the familiar woman. “Lady Lanara,” she greets now that she is close enough to make polite conversation. “How good it is to see you again,” she says warmly, “how have you been?”

Talyara is happy that Meri received her hug so graciously! She was a pretty affectionate person and was thankful that those who weren't (lookin' at you Meri and Krice) still made the exception for the sweet witch. Taly catches Lana's warning glance to Krice and quickly hides her face to laugh before snorting at Tiber's comment. "Well you pull it off well! Listen we should all catch up soon under...less chaotic circumstances." Spying a familiar paladin, Taly excuses herself from present company and inclines her head towards Zahrani. "I'm going to go say hi," she informs the warrior.

Mathollak is only mildly disappointed. "So true, so true. I confess I had ulterior motives for asking you. I wanted to see your steps on the dance floor so I could take measure of how you would perform on the battlefield." He grins wickedly, "but you're right, delayed gratification is so much sweeter!"

Brennia feels her heart sink as they are seemingly passed over and when her gaze mee's Zahrani's, she assures, "lots of excitement tonight is all. I'm sure she'll catch up with you soon enough," maybe. Then there is a familiar blonde that Brennia also knows well and she also offers a wave with a warm smile to Meri. When there is a question of who she wants to say hello to, Brennia scans the faces in the crowd again… is -that- Odhranos? Concern written all over her face as she loops her arm through Zahrani's, "yes." Without much else to say, she makes her way excusing herself around people to reach the mage. "Odhranos?" Brennia's smoky alto timbre questions, "it's me, Brennia." With a worried glance to Zahrani at her side, she offers, "I'm sure you know, my girlfriend, Zahrani?"

Mathollak leads Ernest's hands to the massive organ. "You just put your hands here and caress the keys until sweet music comes out of the spout."

Josleen approached two gruff looking men (Leander and Svard) who, based on their appearances, likely helped bring in supplies for the party - rough laborers, muscled men who lift crates full of wine. She assumes these laborers snuck in through the backdoor for free booze. “Hi there. If you could help me out, I won’t tell the foreman where I found you.” The queen winked, evidently not keen to snitch. She leaned in and whispered to them both that she was hoping they could help her procure a small toffee candy laced with just a hint of pixie dust. She was sure, by the look of them, that they knew how to obtain such delights. Roald, her queensguard, pursed his lips and gave his queen cover. He gets it now. She just wants to cut loose.

Tsuola heard the commotion from Frostmaw's wilderness, and let the sound lead her feet to the ball. Having never attended a ball before, she finds herself decidedly under dressed upon entry. A thin, white rectangle of cotton, pinned at the shoulders and tied at the waist with a bit of leather cord, the dryad pads her way into the throng of people. The barrage of voices, colors, and scents is enough to leave her awestruck. Her appearance seems to baffle a woman she decides to stand beside, black gaze taking in her clothes for an unnecessarily long amount of time. Sensing discomfort in her, Tsuola weaves her way among the people, observing.

Lanara is delighted that Talyara and Krice are now within very close proximity and she grabs her sisters hand to likely whisper about Josleen, an old cat fight, and the offer of a hex, when she feels a noticeable amethyst rock on -THAT- ring finger! Dark chocolate hues grow so wide that Lana's eyes nearly pop from her skull as she admires the obvious engagement ring. "OH MY GODDESS! You two are engaged!?" When did this happen?! Lana looks accusingly to Krice, "Where is your scarf that I made you for Yule?" And then, she's squealing and hugging her sister, "Congratulations, Taly!" A glance is offered to Tiber with a knowing smirk. So much for 'testing the waters' eh?

Meri meets that wicked grin in kind but even with the confession of this ulterior motive, it does not seem the blonde will be swayed. “Ah, a bit of mystery is more fun. If you’ll excuse me though.” Meri turns to make her escape, finally deciding to approach Kanna. On her way to introduce herself to the bard, Meri spots Demeter and greets the woman in passing with a wink. Once she’s close enough to Kanna, a hand is extended. “Not sure I’ve ever met you before.” Or maybe she has? Look. Meri has spent many days drunk over her years, met many people. Sometimes details slip her mind. “The name is Meri, though.”

Leander kept his attention on the other man, studying his expression in the moments leading up to his eventual reply. The kraken understood a great deal about human culture, as stated, but reading emotions was one area in which he continued to struggle. He would not have guessed that Svard's reaction was one of indignation (worry, perhaps), but the words added helpful context. Leander's brow creased. "This man isn't my friend, he's a complete stranger," he clarified, pausing there as the viking had slung his arm about him and leaned close, to whisper more helpful words of wisdom. Leander's brows creased again, and he shifted to politely dislodge himself from the other man's arm. "The letter was very specific about me opening an account. Do you know of this man - Prince..." he reached into his pants to retrieve the letter itself, which he unfolded to show Svard. "Prince Mo-monaepharma," he carefully articulated. The letter did indeed appear to be a solicitation to Leander from a complete stranger, an alleged Prince Monaepharma, who had been displaced from his true home by acts of domestic terrorism and now resided in Frostmaw, where he hoped to recover his fortune to reclaim his throne, but in order to do so, needed Leander's help... If Leander would simply open an account with a local bank, and forward the details...!

Kanna lights up at the gift, cooing over the intricacies of the workmanship. "Orange, this is so beautiful!" She pulls the half-elf into a hug in thanks. Withdrawing a sprig of blossoms from her hair, she holds them out to Leralynn. "Here, in situations where normal magic won't do the trick, good old fashion poison will help you in a pinch." Kanna grins deviously.

Meri really does not know what Mathallok and Ernest were just doing in front of her. But she's pretty sure it's all the more reason to run away.

Lanara pauses in her excitement about hearing of her sister's engagement to greet the lovely hostess of this event! "Queen Hildegarde! It's an honor to see your lovely face again." Dropping into an elegant curtsy, the respectful witch smiles at her old friend. "It has been too long. How are you doing?"

Odhranos eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, and he receives no less than five bumps as he works his way through the crowd, but his efforts are rewarded when a familiar alto calls out to him. Odhranos extricates himself from the crowd, takes a moment to catch his breath, then beams at where the avian was heard from. "I had a feeling there wasn't two people who wore perfume of running water and river stone. It's been too long, Brennia!" Odhranos dips his head in an informal curtsey, then addresses the owner of the set of footprints beside Brennia. "I don't know if I've had the pleasure. Odhranos Kerrigan, of the Mage's Guild." Odh bows fully this time, offering a warm smile upon straightening.

Zahrani notices Taly approaching, and as Brennia leads them towards Odhranos, the paladin motions for the witch to join. The paladin's warm, divine aura would be apparent to the blinded mage as she approaches. To the avian, she says, "I believe he and I have met, along with Grand-Mother Roahin. I think it was during a ceremony at the Mage Tower."

Tiber gives a charming grin towards Talyara before smirking. As Lanara grabs Talyara’s hand, he begins to tip back his drink. When Lanara screams that Krice and Talyara are engaged, the lycan chokes on his drink and begins to have a coughing spell. Marriage? The alcohol burns and he holds up a finger, “Congrats!” Somehow he is able to act chipper even though internally he is thinking of Lanara’s words on how Krice was against marriage. The coughing spell is real, folks.

Ernest cracked his knuckles and sat before the grand organ. Perhaps it made sense that the man might be less-than-excited to share the more mechanical secrets of his device. So instead, the mummy decided he'd get to know it through experimenting with its functions. The Helpin' Hands all descended from his longcoat and spread themselves around the keyboard. Now, Ernest was no bard, but he'd taken a few lessons from the circus organist back when he was a traveling carnie, and now he had eight hands to play with. The organ erupted with a violent wall of noise, a tremendous dissonant chord blaring from its pipes that shifted a few notes at a time through the scale until suddenly the entire thing resolved, relieving all the tension he'd built up with it.

Hildegarde waves away the curtsy, once again feeling that the formality is unnecessary. "I am well, thank you, it's good to see you that you are well and as popular as ever!" a compliment from the Queen, who soon glances around the room to check who else she ought to mingle with. "We must surely catch up properly soon, I do hope that you enjoy yourself."

Haakon ordered something stronger than the champagne and then found himself in the crowd again, he followed the flow of and found himself near Lanara and company. He heard squealing and thought for a moment of backing away, cowardly in the way of men everywhere who had no idea how to react to women sharing such outward joy over trinkets and promises. The thought crossed him and there is a flash of panic on the angles of his face as his eyes go over the brunette witches head to meet Tiber's eyes. Perhaps he would recognize the look of a man caught out. “Ah, excuse me.” He offers, leaning just a little too near Lanara as a heavy set man’s portly belly pushes him forward

Talyara is waylaid in her attempt to visit Zahrani by her sister grabbing her hand. She opens her mouth to say something when Lanara takes notice of the ring and practically screeches for those in close proximity to hear. Her cheeks burn red and she does her best to shush her sister so as to not cause a scene. "Thank you Lana! We will talk more when it's just us, okay? I promise I'll tell you everything!"

Mathollak finds Odhranos with two others, and invades the space with the smells of orange and ginger scented massage oils, that linger about him. “Hello!” he shouts at Odhranos, because he’s blind. “Hello Blind Person! Do you want me to get you anything from the bar? Any food?” Mathollak isn't with the help, but he is very helpful.

Svard looked briefly over the woman. It was such a swift thing. The pass of his eyes. Like a blade. Slicing through the air of the courtly Ball, through her intent, and beyond. He let his arm fall from Leander. The fellow was, it seemed, all but distressed over the matter. The Smith merely shook his head and said, "No, I sadly do not." And then, with a wary wag of his finger. "But low is the man that begs of a stranger." The idea, the very idea, of begging for charity offended him. This poor fellow should be rid of this predilection for charity. He seemed, otherwise, stout. Now, to the woman (Josleen), he looked back. The fairer sex had always been something of a mystery to him. But she spoke as if they knew one another, or at least knew something of one another, and though confused he thought it polite to offer to aide her. "Roight," that accent of his was thick, distorting some of the words, but the language common. "I'll do what I can. What need you?"

Krice had already set his focus elsewhere, gaze piercing the crowd to one face in particular - when Talyara's voice filtered easily through his attentiveness and he looked her way. His expression softened with obvious - but a bit tempered, because duh, public - affection for the woman and he nodded, acknowledging her next visit. " Sure," he murmured, thereafter suffering Lanara's expulsion of energy that rivaled Josleen's dance-threat. In response to the rumor of 'engagement' due to the ring on Talyara's finger, he huffed at the other witch and mumbled, " A little different than that." Tiber's congratulatory sputter was met with a displeased scowl. For whatever reason thereafter, Krice's gaze swiveled across the face of Kanna as she passed something to Leralynn, though it was Tsuola's unexpected appearance that drew his focus toward the entrance. Brows arching at subtle angles of surprise, the warrior checked for Talyara - presumably engaged with others at present - before he stepped toward the dryad and her stunned stranger bystander. " She goes to dress-up parties," he reassured the unknown woman, before regarding the dark-skinned female with an inquisitive stare - under the oppressive cacophony of the so-called bards.

Talyara moves to give Tiber a pat on the back when he begins to choke. "Careful there! We don't need you choking like me and Lana's grandpa!" That had been a terrible day. "But thank you!"

Leander and Svard's review of this important correspondence is interrupted by the approach of Queen Josleen, who believes that they may assist her in scoring a tasty snack. Leander's competence in human affairs does extend to vices, and he glances uncertainly at Svard. "No, but perhaps he does."

Shishi 's daughter beams as she accepts the flowers and 'Gwah~!'s as she remembers something very important. To Kanna and Tessa she hands over slips of parchment after checking to make sure that they were going to the correct ringbearers. "Remember... do not say these words until you're ready to shoot..." Her blue eyes are wide as she says this, as she cannot stress this point enough. Surely there are flashbacks she is currently having of setting off these kind of magic items in inappropriate places. This ball is probably one of those inappropriate places…

Lanara smiles warmly at the Queen and her cheeks flush faintly from the compliment, "Thank you! We should do lunch soon, I promise to send a letter soon and we will arrange something. I would love to catch up." Hildegarde returns to her duties of being a proper hostess, and Lana worriedly tends to Tiber. "You alright, Darling? You can't sip so fast..." A hand lifts to rub the male's back, as she lowers her voice for his ears only, "Don't worry... I know where you stand on -that- matter and I don't expect us to follow suit, just because Taly is to be married."

Brennia smiles genuinely for the joy of catching up with an old friend even though she knows he cannot see at the moment and that familiar raspy giggle bubbles up again, "it really has been too long, Odhranos." Instead of waving or bowing because he wouldn't recognize it, she just offers a gentle squeeze to his elbow. She wonders if it will be rude of her to ask what happened, but she is genuinely concerned when she half steps closer as she lowers her voice to ask, "is everything okay?"

Odhranos is rudely interrupted, nay ASSAULTED, by an aggressive waft of orange and ginger, only to be followed by by an equally exuberant yell. Odhranos blinks as his eardrums pick themselves out of his brain and he turns towards the noise, aka, Mathollak. "Y'know what, I would. Get me something boozy. Hell, surprise me!"

Demeter drops her smoke and smashes it under her boot. Looking up in time to see Meri offer a wink, causing her brows to lower. Pushing off the wall she moved back to get her a tall glass of brew, looking to Leander. Remembering him from few nights or so ago. Offering him a nod, as well handing him a shot. “Doing well?” She would had assumed the man he owed money to would had already caught him, but looks like Leander was more smooth than he lead on.

Odhranos turns back from Math to Brennia and he tilts his head to hear her. He mulls his answer over for a moment before nodding. "Aye. Everything is alright. It's been a lot to get used to, but I'm getting through it." Odhranos' face has fallen slightly, but he regains his sparkle as he leans over and chuckles. "Look on the bright side, I'll never be afraid of heights when I visit Scheherazade again. I might actually join you for a drink in the cellar willingly!"

Kanna takes a look at the parchment and gives a snort. "We will be fine for a while, I doubt I have ever said this before." Feeling another person approach, the bardess looks up at the blonde woman with a smile, graciously taking her hand in greeting. "Aren't you lovely! I think I've heard that name before! My name is Kanna, I study necromancy with Quintessa."

Tiber gets the coughs under control, and the alcohol that is burning through his nostrils settles. The remark about being like Talyara and Lanara’s grandfather earns Talyara a scowl, but not one that was menacing. Rather annoyed like any teasing friend would look like. Eyes look at Krice who is frowning, and in that moment, he knows he has to truly get himself together. Lanara whispers, and he squeezes his cheeks. A smile easily slides onto his face. “Remember, first date? Not testing the waters by any means, but… time.” Is all he manages to really say before standing up.

Josleen glances between the two men in mild disbelief as neither of them caught her drift. Did she use the wrong slang? Had she been a queen for so long she’s lost touch with the current street names of drugs? Desperate to take the edge off and let loose, she tried another slang word for edible pixie dust baked into candy, which coincidentally just happened to be, “Prince Monaepharma? You heard of it?”

Tsuola ;; In her small handful of travels outside of Frostmaw, Tsuola thought she had a grasp on the sheer size of larger groups of people gathered together. In a confined space, however? Yet again she feels awestruck. The music of the bards made the chatter among others seem muffled, like listening to multiple different languages at once. The colourful swaths of fabric that wandered by – why, it reminded her of flowers. A garden of mobile flowers, something she might see in Enchantment if she looked hard enough. The thought lingers until a familiar voice cuts in, and her head slowly turns, with its gaze falling upon Krice. Black eyebrows raise in some surprise. “Shadow,” she greets. “It has been some time since I have seen you.” Her hand waves outward, to the ball attendees while the corner of her lips curve upward in a bemused smile. “This is not the place I would expect to find you.”

Talyara looks back to where Zahrani was initially sitting but doesn't find her. Thankfully a few glances later she spies her friend and once more attempts to make her way over to the paladin. Seeing she is already socializing she holds back a little and once she sees and opening greets her. "Hi Rani! It's been too long!"

Lanara nods in reply to her sister not wishing to get into private details at a very public affair, and so she turns away to get a refill for her choking boyfriend, when she very much collides with Haakon. "Oh. It's alright! No worries." The vampire is literally wedged between the witch and some slob who barely fits in his trousers, and it's somewhat awkward. "I'm Lanara... And this is Tiber." A faint smile is offered, though it's obvious she's mistrusting of outsiders, as she backs closer against her date.

Odhranos , facing Zahrani, finds a pleasant warmth in his face, like the midday rays of a sun on a summer's day. "Xalious bless my poor memory, yes, you're very correct! That was a while ago. Just after the Razurath business." The mention of what went down in Venturil prompts a slight grimace from the Mage, but tonight is not a night for dwelling on such things. Instead, Odhranos hikes an eyebrow and smiles warmly at Zahrani. "If you'll pardon the rudeness of curiosity, how did you and Brennia meet?"

Krice heard a name at the back of his mind, one familiar and intrinsic to all that presently pissed him off ('Quintessa') but Tsuola kept his attention on the present. He nodded his agreement that it had been an age since last they spoke, following the dryad's gesture to the crowd thereafter. " It's not normally where I'm findable," he confirmed, lifting his right hand to gesture in the direction of a particular green-eyed witch whose legs moved behind the rippling satin of an emerald gown. " I'm here for Talyara," he explained, without grudge or pretense; the man was not partial to great gatherings, but it did not pain him to suffer the crowds if his most sacred of bonds wished to. Returning his attention to Tsuola, the warrior asked, " How've you been? What drew you here?"

Leander had not quite shown Svard the backside of the letter and the clincher to all of this, rather Leander had withheld such out of concern that Svard might himself seize the opportunity for himself. You see: If Leander were to forward bank details and assist the displaced foreign prince, he would gain access to a percentage of the prince's funds, which would be returned to him, as a finder's fee. This was very easy passive income, and the reason for the kraken's long journey away from water and to this gods forsaken cold rock. So Svard's reaction did not deter Leander, who noted only that Svard had not heard of Prince Monaepharma, but that did not mean others did not know of him. He was local royalty, after all. In any event, Josleen was now here, and while Leander interested himself in the outcome of this dialogue between herself and Svard, the arrival of Demeter caught his focus. "Demeter," he said her name to greet her. "Yes, I came upon better luck." He would have attempted better conversation but Josleen speaks the words Prince Monaepharma, and his attention reverts to her. "You know the man?" he inquires. "He resides in Frostmaw?"

Ernest realized, after a few moments of messing around with the organ, during which he continued to play massive, flamboyant chords and rapid, frantic arpeggios, that he absolutely had to have one of these. The contraption had such power behind it that when he wanted volume he could shake the room, and with so many fingers at his disposal he could play like someone who had studied far longer than he had. Imagine the impression he could make on someone walking into his office for a consultation and they find him warming up on multiple keyboards and a dozen stops... it was such a -classy- thing. (Except for the name, that needed work.) The problem, of course, was that there was no way to steal it without anyone noticing, it was simply too large to wheel out of the room. He'd have to come up with another scheme to take it for himself another time, but for the moment he continued to enjoy being the party's organist. What a wonderful feeling this was.

Lanara waves to the avian and feline couple to get their attention. "You both look beautiful!"

Hildegarde , making her rounds throughout the main hall, spots the familiar Meri. They had clashed about 6 or 7 years ago in a tournament if memory served. “Lady Meri,” the knight calls to her as she makes her way over to her, “it’s good to see you. You are participating this year?”

Tiber is up and at it again, everyone, no worries. He is smooth, totally smooth. Golden eyes then connect to the stranger. The one who was talking to Meri earlier. Then, a bigger bulky guy bumps into the stranger who sort of grinds against the witch. A hand reaches out and gently moves to slip around the girl to pull her slightly closer to him. A squinted, stiff gaze is given to Haakon. “Excuse you,” he says slowly before letting Lanara take the reins. She was nicer than the lycan, and this lycan was always skeptical.

Zahrani offers an understanding smile to Odhranos. A lot has happened in the past couple years, so she doesn't blame him for forgetting. "That's right...I'll be sure to let our Matriarch know you were here. She's lost none of her prowess, and recent events in Cenril mean she's putting all of her skills to work, including her magic." In response to his question, she says, "Brennia and I met in Cenril, at the Night Market. I healed an injury of hers, and she and I grew closer from there."

Meri smiles as Kanna confirms that she not only knows Quintessa but studies with her. Now that she is thinking about it. Wasn’t Kanna that ghoul that Tessa was threatening Morgan with? This thing? This? Adorable? Thing? Meri is going to have to stew on this for a bit. “Well it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. If you study with Quintessa, I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing each other around. But for now…? I think I am going to grab another drink for the road.” And on her way to accomplish that mission, she and Hildegarde cross paths. Meri meets the Queen and fellow warrior with a fond smile, similarly recalling the details of their skirmish. “Aye. Maybe with a bit of luck you and I will go toe to toe again. We did put on a good show the first and only time we fought. Down in Vailkrin, wasn’t it?”

Brennia giggles again and gently nudges the man, "oh we really do have catching up to do. The castle has been turned to much better use than my wallowing. It is now a bard's college. You really must come up some time and listen as the students perform," with that, she remembers something and determination replaces her nervousness as her solid teal hues seek out Lanara. "I looks forward to your visit, Ordhranos. Take care, yeah?" With that she gives his elbow another soft squeeze before she nods over to where Lanara is with August, "I'll be right back, love." She offers as it seems she's now in a discussion with Odhranos. Excusing herself and those large black wings that always feel like they are in the way no matter how tight she tucks them to her body, she doesn't stop until she reaches Lanara. The genuine warm smile spreads across her lips as she takes in the woman's beautiful looks anew, "tiny dancer." The adoration for her old fellow professor is evident, "how have you been? So many of your students miss you." She addresses Tiber last with a short wave, "hello August. It is good to see you in better spirits," last she saw, he was wallowing in the tavern crying over who she can now assume was Lanara. She doesn't realize the tense situation that she walked into though and her gaze lands on Haakon with a confused look on her face.

Odhranos heard many voices calling out to Brennia and Zahrani and when a lull in conversation permits it, he smiles, bids fond farewells and merry meets, then casts off into the sea of people once more. This time, however, he simply must meet whoever it is playing that scintillating organ music. The organ is easy to find, such a weighty mass of metal is as visible as a star to the terramancer. Once he works his way over, Odhranos approaches the seat and flashes a smile to the organist, who just to happens to be Ernest. "Got room for a duet?"

Demeter nods, taking a drink of the brew. “Luck has not much to do with anything if one is not wise.” She says in her Icelandic accent, eyeing the other two that Leander was speaking with. No idea who they spoke of, she was a new resident.

Svard only went silent now, with a good-natured gesture of his bearded chin, nudging Josleen towards his unnamed companion. This was the way of things. The Gods brought all together, twisting the fates, and while he did not like the idea of this exchange and charity, or understand at all why so many were looking for this Prince- he devised that the Prince was undoubtedly someone of importance or renown and that these two would endeavor forward on a quest together. Perhaps they would forge a saga out of it, for their heirs, and it would be of great meaning to the people of this place. He was not sure. His measures were his own and, while their attention drifted, he eagerly took the moment to plunder another tankard from an attendant and deposit his empty one in trade. The ursine head atop his own, a primitive but magnifiscent thing, bobbed slightly as his head tilted back to indulge. Before he levied a glance among the others nearby.

Zahrani turns to see Talyara, the paladin smiling warmly and offering the witch an embrace. "It really has been too long. How have you and Krice been?" The witch's presence brings back warm and tumultuous memories. It's good to see her friend well.

Tsuola 's black eyes wander to the people fathered while Krice responds. Spotting Hildegarde, a faint look of recognition flashes over her features. “She is the one that gave me Bone Chiller long ago,” states the dryad, to nobody in particular. She did not have the frigid bow and with its nordic runes with her presently, but her hand instinctively reached to feel for it, instead falling to rest upon her shoulder. To Krice, her shoulders rise and fall with a shrug. “I have been as I always am. Home with the trees. The noise led me here. I wanted to see.”

Haakon lifts his arms in attempts to save his drink as he is caught between the two strangers. It wouldn’t have been such a hardship if one hadn’t been a sweating, piggish man and the other lovely but obviously taken. “Haakon,” He offers with an easy smile, one that dropped away as he finds Tiber was less sympathetic than he might have guessed. “Yes, excuse me.” His reply was clipped with annoyance. The man finally moves on, seemingly to harass someone else with his presence, and the vampire takes a healthy step back. At a more proper distance he offers Lanara a parting, short bow and steps away. As he scans the crowd for a familiar face or perhaps another hit of gleaming armor, his keen senses pick up on a name he hadn’t heard in several centuries. Haakon glides toward Leander and Queen Josleen. “Pardon the interruption,” He says, not sounding particularly sorry at all, “But did I hear someone mention Prince Monaepharma?”

Ernest took just a moment to resolve whatever chord he'd set up before pulling back about half of his Helpin' Hands from the keyboard to give the man more space and scooting to the side, patting the bench beside him--then, taking a closer look at the man's blindfold, he sent one of the Hands to help guide him down onto the bench in case he needed it. "It ain't mine, but I cain't see why not," he said, grinning. Maybe they could take turns doing solos as a sort of organ battle. That'd turn up the heat a bit. "Name's Ernest, friend. Ernest Crane."

Zahrani smiles sheepishly at Lanara's compliment, reaching up to run her fingers across the carefully braided hair on her head. "Thank you!"

Odhranos 's face crinkles with happiness. "Ahh, so love bloomed from care. That's really beautiful." The Terramancer's cheeriness certainly conveys how happy the news makes him. "Ah! I had best be off! Have a good night, both of you!"

Shishi and Orange attend the party up until just before the point that anything truly absurd happens, should it. Leralynn likely sticks close to either Kanna or Tessa at any given time while Blue fields the usual onslaught of gladiatorial fanatics looking for a piece of the champion. The most frequent line of questioning and shop talk involves who The Blue Demon would most like to face once all the dust settles. He gives different responses based on what he expects the questioner wants to hear. Obviously Queen Hildegarde is mentioned often, given the heavy Frostmaw presence at the ball, but Quintessa takes up her fair share of responses as well. Notably Larewen is the contender he picks the least, as even the thought of that championship fight is paralyzing to The Titan, but all of them are selected at least once during this census…

Josleen, confused by Leander’s question, suddenly feels herself placed on the back foot. She has been a queen for far too long! This new street lingo for a simple drug deal has grown too complex. Her quick mind pieces together a few things from context. Notably, Leander asked where the Prince resides. Surely this must mean that Leander wants to peel off to do the drug deal somewhere more discreetly. However, Queen Josleen is too much of a public figure with too many death threats on her head to sneak off with strangers. Her queensguard would never allow it, and rightfully so. “I’d like to meet the prince myself. I hear he is in attendance at this party, though I know he is a man of discretion. I, too, can be discreet if you’d give me a chance.” That’s when Haakon appears at her side and she gives the handsome, well-dressed stranger a sidelong glance. Perhaps this man has some prince monaepharma to deal? “Yes, could you introduce him to us? I am sure at he is at this party and I will pay handsomely to meet him.”

Hildegarde nods at Meri when she recalls the location of their now ancient battle, "Aye, it was, with the spiders!" The knight still kept the spider-silk scarf that had been awarded to her, it remained a critical part of her armour in fact. "Perhaps we shall find each other in the tournament once again," she said with a fond and polite nod to Meri before allowing the psion to continue on her way. As she turns away from Meri, she catches Tsuloa looking at her with some recognition that is likewise shared by the Silver. Seeing that Tsuola is talking to Krice, she offers her only a smile and a polite nod of her head before resuming her circle of the room.

Talyara beams at Zahrani and quickly returns the embrace, giving her friend an extra squeeze before stepping back. "We are doing very well, thank you!" She recalled that the paladin was in a relationship with the lovely avian Brennia. "How are you and Bren? How is everyone at the compound?"

Tiber keeps Lanara close, and then his eyes shift as Brennia makes her way over. He glances back briefly as Haakon walks away. Sorry, Tiber was a brood-ish man. Then, oh, boy. Brennia greets Lanara and then him, but as a different name. The one she met him with. “August?” He plays dumb. “Who the hell is August?” Him, but he would play the denial game. “I’m Tiber. We met briefly.” Last thing he wanted was for Lanara to know that he was the drunken singer in the taverns when she left, and to know where he even got the name in the first place. “You’re Brennia. Bard’s College, right?” Golden eyes look down at Lanara and then back to Brennia. It was a hint for Brennia to tread around the August topic around Lanara.

Lanara is delighted that she's so popular this evening, though she thinks the attention from the males is due to that obvious slit in her dress that shows off the ex-dancer's toned legs. As Brennia arrives, the witch leans forward as much as Tiber's hold will allow, to pull the woman in for a gentle hug. "You are lovely as always, Bren! It's wonderful to see you and we much meet up for lunch, soon. I miss the students, too..." Lana's voice softens as she reminisces about her old career, "Perhaps I can visit the school... Maybe help in other ways?" As the avian calls her boyfriend by the wrong name, she laughs, "Oh you must be mistaken! This is Tiber." It's then that the lycan and vampire speak in short, clipped tones, and Lana smiles awkwardly, before excusing herself. "I will be right back, I just need some air." A wave of dizziness hits the woman and her fingers coil around her hourglass pendant as she goes to stand near the entrance to breathe in some of Frostmaw's chill.

Odhranos sits himself down at the bench and stretches his fingers as he gets a feel for where the keys lie before him. "Odhranos Kerrigan, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ernest." Odhranos sets his hands to the keys and joins in with Ernest with a rich-bellied bass harmony, matching the Helpin' Hands with a flurry of practiced fingerings. "Those are interesting looking appendages you have there, if I may say. Magic, or mechanical?" Odhranos doesn't miss a single note as he poses his question, breaking into a grin as he settles into the music like he had never left.

Tiber watches Lanara leave and his brow furrows. He would check on the witch shortly.

Meri grins at Hildegarde and offers the Queen a salute before she turns to grab one final drink for the road. On her way out there would be several goodbyes that are issued. It’s a bit of a list so Meri is not going to send says to all of the players, but the list of people that Meri waves goodbye to includes: Kanna, Lanara, Tiber, Krice, Taly, Zahrani, and probably some others. Hopefully they know who they are.

Hildegarde continues her rounds around the hall of the fort, catching sight of a stranger she is yet to speak with and one who Josleen has been seen speaking to. Etiquette would dictate that she too must now speak to Svard, lest a queen of an enemy state out-do her! “Hail and well met,” the knight offers to Svard as she reaches his social bubble, “I do not believe I know you, sir,” she greets politely. “I overheard your mention of the gods. Are you a man of faith?” she asks with a genuine interest. It was a well known fact that Hildegarde was a devout follower of the gods, particularly Aramoth.

Caltarok || While resting at Mesthank's tavern in Kelay, Caltarok had seen fliers for the Titans of Winter and for the celebration party planned prior in Frostmaw's Fort. Having elected to sit out rather than to join the tourney, Caltarok wanted to observe and get to know the inhabitants wherein that he shared this world. Truth be told... he just wanted to avoid being made a mockery of... his pride as a dragon wouldn't allow it. He hadn't learned to fight humans, elves, or the like on even ground using their tools which over centuries had been mastered and taught to the younger generations. Unlike most dragons, Caltarok sought to under these implements and the 'progression' of the lower races with their fake fangs and claws. He traveled by ground this time partially because of being hunted, trying to hide what he was, and due to Slyphrena had yet to return to his side. Thankfully, he found the trip uneventful and had 'freshened up' by dusting the grime of travel at the nearby tavern. Caltarok enters with his winter-wolf fur cloak flowing behind him and winter-wolf braces and boots. The rest of his leather jerkin and pants is a normal leather brown with a slight sheen from the conditioner applied and the green embroidery styled that shifts between elven and dragonic and subtle drawing of leaves and trees. Neither of the sprites normally with him are seen, but Pyra was near if needed due to their pact. He had not understood from the flier about 'high-class' that he should actually dress up in something more than his normal day leathers. He stood in the doorframe for a second stunned by the ladies in the gowns and men dressed... military uniforms in some fashion and others... he had no words to describe the clothes.

Leander smirked in response to Demeter's observation. It was very human to both disavow and call upon luck. There were some endearing things about this culture. He would ordinarily have made a laconic observation in that vein but he remained invested in Josleen's having mentioned the name of displaced monarch Prince Monaepharma. The news she had for him was difficult to interpret. She seemed to be similarly situated to him, for she was also seeking to meet with the Prince, and Haakon was now joining the fray, just in time, apparently the man here who could make the necessary introductions. "Yes, I have business with him," Leander informed Josleen and Haakon. He studied Haakon briefly, quickly ascertaining that the man seemed tall and pale-skinned and official enough to be some foreign prince's attache, and retrieved the prince's letter from his trouser pockets. He presented it to Haakon, as if it were an admission ticket.

Krice followed Tsuola's focus to Hildegarde, acknowledging that the Steward had gifted the dryad 'Bone Chiller'. With Hilde returning to the rest of the room, the warrior looked at his dark-skinned friend. If she was privy at all to things beyond the chaos of that which was visible, she might be able to sense a strange sort of maturity about the warrior, as if he was tempered by something more than age and experience. It was nothing negative, but certainly something more prominent than had been there when last they met so many months ago. He listened not only to Tsuola's words, but also to the distinct chatter of a certain emerald-eyed witch somewhere behind him, mingling not only with her sister but with the crowd at large. To the dryad, Krice said, " It's a celebration of the opening of the Titans of Winter tournament. I think." He squinted one eye in thought; the enigma hadn't been paying too much attention to that part. Lanara's need for air earned her a brief glance from the warrior, followed by an acknowledging look as Meri departed, and then a more pointed glance at the crowd in search of Talyara's location among the rest.

Zahrani glances back to see Brennia interacting with Lana and Tiber, before returning back to Taly, "She and I are doing well. As for the Collective..." She pauses for a moment, "Cenril's outbreak hit us hard, but we're managing. The city is taking inspiration from us, it seems. Our people are good in a crisis." She wouldn't bring up the men, women, or children lost to the zombie outbreak. Not good table conversation. With a deep breath, she then asks, "What's been keeping you busy of late?"

Svard looked to the armored figure, sea-green eyes tracking the scarred face, the attire. A proper shield maiden. There is a change in his tone then as, despite his good-nature, he affords a different degree of courtesy. "My name is Svard. I've just opened a Smith in Rynvale." And to her other question he lifts his tankard, takes a long pull, and lowers it with some weight to the words that follow. "In my experience we are all of faith - some of us more honestly than others."

Lanara pulled Meri in for a few quick words on her way out, a few of which were regarding Fleur, before the two hugged and parted ways. Having gotten some air, Lana feels the fatigue settling in, and she curses her 'condition' for daring to try and ruin her night. Dark hues land on Josleen, and although she's not a huge fan of the Queen, she gives her a curt nod. The woman's dress was stunning and she looked lovely. Itching for a cigarette, Lana pointedly seeks out Tiber as a slow song comes on. "You have to dance with me."

Brennia returns the hug of course as her brow knit together again as it seems she is mistaken, but the thing is with avians being highly intelligent beings, she knows she isn't and her gaze travels away from the pair. How awkward, there are secrets like that in a relationship. Glad to skip over the subject, she keeps the focus on the college, "of course you are welcome to the college anytime, Lana." Bren was an odd nickname, but she just goes with it. When Lanara abruptly leaves them, she just gives a disappointed look to Tiber because why not be honest about how he ached for Lanara when she was gone? The avian is bold enough to follow Lanara and she gives her space as they take in the fresh air together, "is everything okay, Lanara?" The concern in the bard's voice evident as she chances another side glance to the woman.

Talyara was happy to hear that things were going well with Zahrani and Brennia, but her smile falters slightly when she explains that the Collective had been hit hard. They had all been so kind and welcoming when she came to visit, it was hard to imagine anything horrid befalling them. "Well, if I can do anything to help, outside of your own extensive resources, please don't hesitate to ask. alright?" As to her business, she shifts on her feet and nips at her bottom lip. "I have been focusing on a very ill patient. It's been a long, hard illness but I think they are finally getting closer to recovering."

Ernest couldn't help but glance at Odhranos's fingers as he worked the organ in his own way--this was clearly a rightfully skilled player as opposed to someone slightly cheating at it like himself. "Hmm? Oh, th' Helpin' Hands? Magic," he said, wondering absently how he'd seen them with a blindfold on. "Necromancy, t'be specific," he added, a little quietly and disguising it by pulling out several stops to build a crescendo with the organ before sliding them back down. "I find most other forms of minion t'be inconvenient most times. Cain't keep 'em in a pocket like y'can these li'l guys, an' they're so versatile." To accentuate this point, a team of Hands crawled across the topmost keyboard and trilled a long, blue-note-filled scale in the high register.

Demeter moved away from Leander, and back to lean against the wall by the bar to not get mistaken for a bartender, again. Looking towards the entrance, pondering on leaving. Just as she did, she spotted Caltarok, he did not come fancy dressed as she did not other than showing off more of the tattoos and the cloak that made her wings be an illusion of not present. She would not go to him, just incase he had others he wanted to speak too. Sipping more of the brew she had finished, holding still till decided to get a refill or a shot.

Haakon minds his manners and gives Josleen a polite, if brief bow. Her question is met with a look that was something mixed with embarrassment and humor. “I wouldn’t pull out your coin purse just yet, Grace,” He hides a laugh behind his drink. “Which one of you received a letter detailing his tragic fortune? Has he offered to compensate you handsomely for the details of your banking information?” Leander offers up the letter to him and he scans it quickly, nodding with a new seriousness. “Yes, this seems official.” He holds the seal on the back aloft. “You’ll want to take care of this right away but unfortunately due to the dangers surrounding his current position he is not a will to show his face. Though, I was sent to give you his additional offer.” Unable to continue the charade of seriousness, a smile teases the corner of his lips. “It seems he’s come into a parcel of beachfront property in Kelay that he’s selling for practically nothing at all.”

Hildegarde dips her head in acknowledgement when Svard offers his name to her. “Svard, an honour to meet you. I am Hildegarde the Silver,” she offers in a polite exchange. “A smith, you say? I always have need of a good smith. I should like to call upon you in Rynvale and see your work, sir,” she tells him with a nod of her head as if this made it a promise. His commentary on faith garners another nod, accompany by an expression of ‘hmm’, you know the one – the raised eyebrows, slightly widened eye and curved lips. “A good answer,” she finally says with a little smile, “I hope you enjoy the festivities.”

Lanara is grateful that on her way back from getting some much needed air, Brennia had been at her side. The beautiful avian is given a nod, though the witch holds secrets in her dark eyes. How could she tell one of her dearest friends that she only has weeks to live? She hasn't told anyone... Yet. "I'm fine. I just feel a little anxious in large crowds, after being away from the lands for a year. It's... Overwhelming." A parting hug is offered, "I better sneak in a dance with Tiber before someone takes my place!"

Zahrani offers a closed-eyed smile to Talyara, a feline gesture of affection, before saying, "Thank you, my friend. You are always welcome in our home. You should see how the cubs have grown." Some of them weren't even cubs anymore. "I'm glad to hear your patient is doing well again. May I ask what ailed them?"

Tsuola ;; “The Titans of Winter tournament?” repeats Tsuola. That must mean the Blue Demon is around here, somewhere. She considers searching for him to say hello, but keeps her feet rooted to the floor. “I will have to stay and watch when it starts,” is her reply to Krice. She tucks a white strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you fighting in the tournament, Shadow? I did not see it, but long ago a dryad from Rynvale competed. I did not get to meet her, but I heard that she lost an eye.” She wonders if perhaps one day she could fight in a tournament, but the dryad thought it unlikely. Silence follows until the realization hits her. She didn't ask about Talyara at all, did she? Her expression turns a bit sheepish due to her forgetfulness. “How is your dear one, Shadow?”

Josleen’s face falls as Leander retrieves an actual Prince Monaepharma scam letter. What a waste of time! Visibly irritated, Josleen gestures forcefully towards the letter, smacking it with the authority of a woman accustomed to bulldozing over the lower classes, and says to Leander unkindly, “That’s a scam, sir! Are you pulling my leg? Is this some elaborate ruse? Do you have the stuff or not?” Her head shakes in tiny, peeved motions. As Haakon explains the infamous scam, she looks to the fellow wealthy person for commiseration. The vampire’s mocking of Leander gives Josleen no small pleasure, which she hides poorly by pulling third glass of champagne from a passing tray and grinning against its rim. She’s downed half the glass by the time Haakon is done ridiculing Leander into the dirt. “Sir,” she says to Haakon, her voice suddenly high and lilting, “Could you help a lady in need of a little princely delight?”

Tiber ’s face was stoic, but his eyes screamed guilt. At least Lanara left, but he was not too far behind her, or Brennia. He keeps himself in the distance and lets the two interact before patiently waiting for Lanara to come back. He tips back the rest of his drink, places it on a serving platter, and looks around the room. ‘You have to dance with me’. Finally, the chaos dissolves--this is what they were here for, right? A silken, charming smile grows across his lips before taking the Kelvarian’s hand and placing a kiss against her wrist. “Glad to see we’re doing what we came to do. Should I do the wave?” He grins boyishly. Only for her. The man would then pull to try to guide her to the dance floor for that sweet, sweet slow song.

Caltarok || Spotting Odhranos amongst the crowd of people at the party, Caltarok wanders toward the mage in greeting. Caltarok had noticed Demeter and gave her a nod as he headed towards Odhranos hoping to catch up with her later and see about training with her. If Ordhanos doesn't notice him approaching, Caltarok would clear his throat before speaking to get attention. "Hello there Sir Odhranos. My apologies for not staying around to chat with you last time we saw each other."

Svard put some of his good humor aside and offered, instead, sincerity. His eyes cut the woman's features once more, taking further note, from the high cheekbones to the fall of her hair and the keenness of her look. "I will. Thank you."

Odhranos hums approvingly. "That'd explain it then. I was wondering how I could see them." Odhranos lifts his hand and points a thumb at his blindfold as he smirks. "I'm stills getting used to this, so getting the exposure to other people and other things helps" He sets his hands back to the keys and shrugs his shoulders. The crystals that have been fluttering gently from his shoulder spring into motion, gathering and extending from his left shoulder to sprout a third crystal arm, which hovers over the lowest keys expectantly. "What say we show these ladies and gents what a two-man quadrio can do, eh?" The terramancer is feeling feisty tonight it would seem.

Talyara cannot even imagine how big the cubs are now and she makes it appoint to visit the Collective soon. "Oh, they were poisoned by something very strong that not even the best medicine could help clear up." Taly sighs at the thought but then shakes her head. "If you'll forgive me, Rani, but I think I need a drink. Let's catch up soon, okay?" Taly gives her friend a quick hug before excusing herself and meandering over to the drink table.

Odhranos turns to look over his shoulder at Caltarok's voice, and though he can't confirm the apprentice is standing exactly there, he grins towards him regardless. "Caltarok! Not a bother at all! Glad you're here!" Odhranos is decidedly less formal than the last time Caltarok laid eyes on him. "No need for the "Sir", tonight I am a simple Odh to you and everyone else! Have you got a drink yet?"

Demeter nods back to Caltarok one of the few or rather two that she had spoken to before. If this is what the fancy people of the land called ‘fun’, next time she would go train instead. Drinks so far are the best part. Popping her neck on each side, moving for one more shot. Refill her mug and snag an apple. Shooting the shot back before taking a large bite from the apple. Knowing Caltarok and her would soon lock blades, begin the training they had discussed previously. But that, that would need to be planned.

Krice 's expression turned somewhat somber for only a moment, easing into attentive curiosity as he caught hint of the conversation surrounding Josleen and Hildegarde. The former's petulant dismissal of Leander's letter was not surprising--he had a certain impression of Josleen--but once again Talyara's conversation pulled his attention. When Tsuola spoke of the tournament in response, Krice turned his gaze upon her and shook his head. " Tournaments do not interest me," he answered, honest and without flair. In response to the dryad, of the injured fighter of whom she spoke, he mused, " I don't really -watch- tournaments, either. I can't recall if I know who that was." When conversation turned to the topic of the woman who ever-occupied his mind, his features softened once more. How was his dear one? " As dear and beautiful as ever." Without even looking at the witch in question, Krice gestured for Tsuola to follow him as he turned for the bar, inviting her to join him; his change in location triggered by Talyara's need for a drink. " Come say hi," he said to the dark-skinned dryad. Once at the witch's side, he would take gentle hold of her left elbow with his right hand, a touch not only of affection but also reassurance. Her story of the poisoned patient had reached his ears despite distance and other noise, and he needed to know that she was fine.

Hildegarde makes her farewells to Svard, releasing him from her brief attention to continue circulating the hall. Gotta keep on hosting!

Leander was struggling to interpret Haakon's initial response, and struggling even further to understand Josleen's. "It's --" the kraken glanced at both, his expression cagey, "It's not real?" Josleen at this point demanded to know if he had 'the stuff,' and he barked at her, "No!" He watched Haakon read the letter, listened and the vampire invented more facts, and Leander felt his face grow hot with shame. There was nothing more to say. It was a scam, he understood scams, and his believing in this one was embarrassing. His hand closed into a fist, and inadvertently Josleen's inquiry about obtaining a little princely was punctuated by the sound of the glass cracking. "Let me help you with that," one of the waitstaff relieved him of it. Leander glared at Josleen and Haakon, and moved elsewhere, avoiding the sting of further conversation about the subject.

Lanara feels her heart beginning to race when Tiber presses a kiss to her wrist, and she looks at the man with such obvious adoration, that even the butterflies she's feeling having butterflies of their very own! Their bodies glide smoothly over the floor, and as the male spins her away and returns her to her rightful place against his body, she grins, "I'm so grateful that you didn't do the wave! I'm also relieved that you are handling the floor -much- better than the ice..." Tiberius definitely doesn't have a future career as a figure skater! Once the song comes to an end, the witch lifts her head and tenderly kisses her lycan, her dark eyes a mixture of desire and mischief, "Go steal a bottle of the finest ale you can find... Let's turn this into a party for two at our place?"

Haakon seems taken aback by Josleen’s sudden outburst of anger. As she slapped the letter away from him she teased an actual laugh from him. “I’m afraid you’re not the only one that’s been had,” He says in attempts to appease her and spare Leander of any more of her wrath. He gives the stranger a sympathetic glance before turning his full attention to the Queen, knowing well it would serve him poorly to offer her less. “While I’m not traveling in the company of the prince tonight,” Haakon’s eyes slide from her face and just over her shoulder, to a man in bright furs that laughed too loudly at something his lady companion said. “I might have an idea of who is. Allow me a moment and will see if I can champion his attention for you?” Without waiting for her to respond he peels away from the small Prince Monaepharma fan club. After a moment of short conversation and a casual handshake, the vampire returns to the Queen and company with several princely treats. He has secured the party favors Josleen seeks.

Ernest nodded, the gesture both an affirmative and a way of spawning a Helpin' Hand Mk. II out of shadow magic. The smoky haze whisked over to the other musicians to get their attention and snapped its fingers to a much quicker beat. So much for slow dancing. With Odhranos's three trained arms and Ernest's multiple untrained ones, the organ music was about to get very, very hectic. "A one, a two, a one two three four--" It's said that in every culture, there comes a point in time at which ragtime must be invented. (Don't ask who said this. The exact name of that particular musicologist has been lost to history. The saying itself may also have been lost to history, in which case I recommend not asking how I know that it was ever said at all. You'll just have to take my word for it.) For Frostmaw, it's very likely that that time happened to be right now, with an absolutely -frenetic- duet between Ernest and Odhranos.

Odhranos had challenged Ernest, and boy oh boy did he deliver. Odhranos bares a grin of glee as he partakes in musical genesis and Sven, if he doesn't love every moment of it. "That's more like it! We'll have a céili in here before the sun rises!" Odhranos sets to the bass notes like a feverish tarantella, striking up a harmony that, as will be said by teens in centuries to come, absolutely slaps.

Caltarok shakes his head in response to Odh's question before remembering his condition and responding, "No. I cannot say I have gotten a drink yet though I doubt I will be drinking this day. I only just arrived a mere few minutes ago to this….ummmm…. Party. You will have to forgive my formal sense, but I will try to adhere to calling you Odh for tonight at least. Though perhaps a time after this party we can speak in private about the future?" Caltarok noticed the Odh playing the organ with his magical prowess with great respect he adds, "That is very fine playing. I hope I can control my magic as delicately in the future."

Tiber keeps a steady hand on her waist. As they dance, he twirls her, and whispers in her ear of things only she can hear. There are some laughs, some lustful stares, and an overall content atmosphere that envelops the two on the ballroom floor. “What? I might just join a hockey team,” he smirks before looking over her head at the other guests. He then leans into the tender kiss before grinning against her lips. “I thought you’d never ask. On it,” the Catalian pulls back before stalks the bar. When another guest is not looking, he snags the bottle off the counter and saunters away. The lycan then smirks wickedly before reaching out for Lanara’s hand to sneak out of the ballroom.

Tsuola , in her eagerness to see the lovely witch that Krice clearly adored again, is not as mindful of her steps on the way as she follows the warrior through the crowd. Normally fairly nimble and able to move with relative ease among the still, frigid trees out west, the dryad finds the constant movement of the people less simple to navigate. Her shoulder clips Svard as she drifts past, presumably at his chest. The impact results in an abrupt stop from her, in which she peers at the man's face. “Pardon me,” she whispers, then steps to his side and presses forward, until she is steps behind Krice and Talyara. Should the witch be facing her, her black hand lifts to wave. “Hello,” she greets.

Odhranos continues speaking to Caltarok as he plays. "I'm usually guilty of the same, but letting our hair down every so often is a must for formal folks like we. But yes indeed, we must have a chat, I'm sure there you have a lot on your mind and I'll be happy to answer any questions you have." Odhranos blushed at Caltarok's compliment, nearly missing a chord as he goes to fuss with his hair. "You're too kind, truly. I'm sure you'll be just as good in no time. It's all practice after all!"

Lanara giggles and takes Tiber's hand, following his lead as they make their way out of the party. Before they leave, she does pause to blow Talyara a kiss, and she vows to write to her sister soon to plan an engagement party. Anyone else that the couple comes across on their way out is afforded a smile and wave.

Josleen meets Leander’s outburst with a cool stare that slides down the length of her upturned nose. “Mmm,” she says in icey bemusement. However, when he crushes a glass with his bare hands, a seed of sympathy buds in her heart. Poor man has really been had. Haakon’s tacit disapproval of Josleen’s outburst further brings her back to her senses. She’s been on edge, but it’s no excuse. The Queen nods as Haakon gets the deal done, finally, but her gaze follows Leander through the crowd. To Haakon, when he returns, “Thank you. It seems I’ve lost my nose for this sort of thing. I’ve been held up in a castle tower too long. Would you excuse me just a moment?” Haakon has brought back too much, and she leaves two pieces with Haakon then chases Leander with brisk steps that click loudly on the ballroom floor. “Sir!” she calls. Once she has his attention, she palms to him two pieces of Prince Monaepharma. “I apologize for my outburst and I am sorry for your disappointment. I hope this helps you take the edge off.” She smiles genuinely at the party crasher then disappears back into the crowd to discreetly eat a piece of pixie dust laden candy and chase it with champagne.

Talyara picks up a flute of champagne and lifts it to her lips to imbibe when she feels a hand on her elbow. Turning, she finds Krice has returned and she gives him a reassuring smile as she lowers the glass. She was okay even if the memories of how sick he had been when she first found him plagued her nightmares still. Turning to Tsuola, the witch's face alights with kindness at seeing the dryad again. "Tsuola! It's wonderful to see you again! How have you been?" Talyara spies Hildegarde pass near where she stands and she offers the Queen a wave and sweet smile.

Talyara also spies her sister and Tiber sneaking out of the ballroom. She smirks their wave and gives the couple a conspiratorial wink knowing it won't be long before she hears from the elder witch.

Hildegarde returns Talyara's wave and smile as she circulates the room, edging ever closer towards the doors leading to the throne room.

Ernest found himself getting more and more into The Zone. At this point, in the back of his mind he was vaguely considering looking into bard school just to see what else he could get out of this delightful experience in the future--and that's when it happened. The by-now all-too-familiar rushing wind sound that only he could hear. The feeling of vertigo, as though the ground were opening up beneath him and he was about to fall endlessly into oblivion. He continued to play, but his face had taken on a peculiar listless expression and the Helpin' Hands started to falter, colliding with each other and occasionally pressing notes that, if they hadn't been improvising all of this already, would definitely be considered wrong. Odhranos, being positioned so close, might be able to sense that his organ partner was no longer entirely present.

Hildegarde gave a nod of her head to Lisbeth who stood by the doors of the throne room. With Hildegarde's nod acting as the signal, the Captain of the Queensguard gently cleared her throat and took a step forward before making an announcement to the room. "The Queen of Frostmaw departs! A goodnight to all. Please, enjoy the food and drink, Frostmaw's hearth is free to all," a polite way of saying that Hildegarde is retiring for the evening but everyone's still welcome to party. With a low groan, the doors to the throne room open just as they did at the beginning of the night and both giant and dragon make their way through the doors to the foreboding room. The doors shut firmly behind them both, allowing the revellers to continue revelling.

Haakon tucks the two pieces of Prince Monaepharma away in an inner coat pocket and finishes off his drink as he watches the retreating figure of the Queen. When she’s lost to the crowd, he circles the room once more, but finds himself weary of the crowd and the noise. He longed for the quiet and for the sight of dark brown eyes in the low light of his hotel room. Soon enough, the vampire slipped back out into the cold night.

Leander obtained a new glass of whiskey, and drank liberally from it. He was heading to retrieve his coat, a process which was like to be significantly delayed by a surprisingly long coat check queue. He regretted, on top of looking stupid, looking like he'd obviously rage quit a conversation. When Josleen appeared, and pressed into his hands two pieces of candy, saying something like an apology, he gazed back at her with mounting confusion. "Thank you," he said, to her back at this point, before examining two candy parcels held in his palm. This was Prince Monaepharma. With a snort, he unwrapped each in turn and discreetly slid them into his mouth.

Caltarok responds softly and with a little bit of magic to ensure his next words would only be heard by Odh, "Yes… in time and practice I hope to gain full control of my abilities fully. Though I hope to at least gain some control on some of my magic so the spirits don't have to help me keep it managed." Dropping the shielding, Caltarok continues on… "But for the formality… That isn't something I can easily so cure for it is the core of my people to a degree and of my own nature. But I will definitely try to…. Curve the habit?" Caltarok is unsure of the saying used by humans in this case. "Either way perhaps after the party? For now I am going to see someone I met not too long ago that had sought mages back in Kelay."

Odhranos is intently focused on not slipping a note in this frantic maelstrom of music, but he does notice when his partner starts improvising. At first, Odhranos crows with approval, but his joy turns to concern when Ernest starts listing and slurring his notes. "Ernest? You doing alright?" Odh turns towards his fellow organist, but curses that he can't see him to make out what's happening to him. He sacrificing his right hand, having his two left hands fill in with block cords as he reaches out for Ernest's shoulder, seeking to shake him a little to elicit a response.

Odhranos , before noticing Ernest's decline, spares a smile for Caltarok, entirely unaware of what of the apprentice's speech had been for him alone and what had been widely audible. "I'm sure the ability will come to you before long. And where I can help, I shall. Do stop by Lanlan's castle in Cenril, we can have our chat with a nice spot of tea!"

Krice was reassured of the stability of Talyara's mood by the smile she gave him as he touched her elbow. The memories were fresh for him as well, but together they had worked through it. They would be fine. The crowd began to thin, a small blessing that allowed his weighed mind to seek out Tsuola. It was good to see her possessing of enough confidence to wade through the remaining people on the floor, though her brush with the - to him - stranger piqued his attention. As she excused herself, the warrior extended his free left hand toward her, offering a point to which she could focus her travels. As she and Talyara subsequently interacted, he became aware of the music's odd notes and glanced in the direction of the musicians, noting briefly the uncertainty of their interaction. Were they overzealous? Was something amiss with 'Ernest'? His attention would not be long from the women in his company if that musical interaction did not evolve into something wildly problematic.

Ernest was not doing alright, and Odhranos's touch to gently shake him had perhaps the opposite of the intended effect. The mage guild leader's special sight might catch sight of something inside Ernest's body becoming dislodged--some kind of magic energy, the spirit inside his corpse--and with a howl and rush of cold air the mummy's ghost fell right through the organ's bench and only managed to avoid disappearing through the floor completely by latching onto his body's ankle. The Helpin' Hands all collapsed as every bit of energy Ernest had was funneled back into hauling himself, one hand at a time, from the yawning abyss below him. In words that sounded like echoes from a great distance, Caltarok and Odhranos would hear a stream of cussin' and shouting and blaspheming Vakmatharas as the undead struggled against the pull of the Beyond. "I jes' got my compass--I saw him TODAY, you git--read th' room--"

Tsuola wonders how she could have missed all of the food and drink laid out. Before she can take a look however, she's greeted by Talyara and cannot help grinning. “I have been very well,” she replies. “It is wonderful to see you again. How are you?” The champagne flute in the witch's hand piques her interest, and so naturally Tsuola inquires. “What are you drinking? It looks...fizzy? Is that the word?” Her eyes look to Krice for confirmation.

Talyara leans into Krice briefly, an affectionate gesture, before continuing her conversation with Tsuola. "I am doing well, too! I has been too long since we met up last." When the dryad comments on her drink, Taly offers the undrunk glass to Tsuola. "It's champagne and it is fizzy. Sweet...but a little dry? Here, take a sip if you'd like to try it."

Odhranos barely managed to stifle a blistering barrage of curses as Ernest fell limp. His own crystal arm burst and clattered along the keys as he turned to his ailing companion. As Ernest's soul started departing his mortal husk, Odhranos felt the dread mounting in his stomach. Could he not get a single night off without dealing with dislodged souls and their foibles? Odhranos decides enough is enough and lets fly a stream of the foulest cursed known in the Oileanian language. Hopefully Caltarok doesn't speak the language, or his opinion of his newly elected leader would likely take a swift nosedive. "I've lost enough friends recently, Ern, by Sven you're not joining the list." Odhranos growls, and through his hand on the undead's shoulder, he shunts as much of his magic as he can to bolster the beleaguered soul.

Caltarok bows slightly, "Indeed I shall come by there. Though I didn't know Lanlan had a castle in Cenril… I will definitely come by there. A spot of tea sounds wonderful. Thank you." Caltarok blinks seeing the hands of the second player react and the strange sound coming out of the fellow organist. He moves to be closer at hand, "Odh… I am not sure what I can do… but if I can assist tell me how even if it is trying to lend you access to my 'source' for more energy." If Odh decided he wouldn't need the apprentice, Caltarok would before to move away in order to stay out of the way.

Krice observed Tsuola and Talyara's interactions with a pleasantly neutral expression on his face, clearly content with in the company of these two women. As Talyara leaned into him, he welcomed the affection openly. A squeeze was given her elbow before he stepped away, drawn just a metre from the two females as Odhranos and Ernest's situation took a ghost-dislodging, magic-yeeting turn for the worse. The warrior stood at attention, his right hand hovering over the hilt of the katana sheathed against his opposite hip, and watched in silent anticipation as the situation unfolded. With magic swirling in the air, easily detectable by the warrior's sensitive perceptions even without the obvious -appearance- of it, he remained at a distance to observe.

Tsuola accepts the glass and tentatively takes a sip. Its scent reminds her of fruit, but the taste clearly does not, judging by the manner in which the black markings on her face scrunch up when she winces. Swallowing, and blinking confusedly at the sensation of the drink, she hands it back to Talyara. “That is...I do not know if I like it, but it is different. Do they make it out of blueberries?” Because of course, everything must have a blueberry flavor. Krice's movement toward for his katana is met with confusion. Was something wrong? She turns to look.

Ernest felt the surge of energy flow into him and with a triumphant "Yeee-hawww!" he flung himself back up into his body with enough force to knock him backwards off the bench. He hit the ground, rolled, dropped his hat, grabbed his hat, sprung to his feet and planted his hat back on, throwing a thumbs-up at Odhranos and letting out a wild, "Now THAT'S what I call a rodeo!" He snapped his fingers and several of the Helpin' Hands sprung back to life, dancing across the keys for a quick Shave And A Haircut cadence as a finale. "Though I ain't never been th' one wrangled before! Friends, I owe you at least one drink!" He waved them towards the refreshment table. Which was all provided for free anyway, but maybe it was the thought that counts.

Talyara cannot help but grin at Tsuola when she scrunches up her face after taking a sip. It wasn't to make fun of the dryad for her reaction, but rather show empathy in that she too had drunk of stuff that caused her to make that face as well. She takes the glass back and nods her head. "The do make more fruity wines! I have one at home that is quite sweet and made of huckleberries if you would ever like to try it." Krice's protective stance draws her attention and she frowns in his direction.

Odhranos grits his teeth as he tries his best to help Ernest get a grip on life. "Standby Caltarok, I may need your help in a moment. Depends on how far he's go-" Odh doesn't have the chance to finish his sentence before Ernest springs back to life with the greatest bait-and-switch in musical history. Swept up in the chaos, Odhranos sets himself to the keys, blasting into the finale alongside Ernest before he slumps back from the organ in a daze. "You, my friend, are quite the interesting bloke. I will take you up on that drink" Odhranos laughs heartily, his momentary panic now transmuted to elation and delight with Ernest's bombastic recovery. "Cal, care to join us?"

Demeter watched amused with slight interest at the commotion beside Caltarok, honestly, she was ready to move in to assist her friend? Was he a friend? No, not yet he had not earned that kind of trust from the female avian. On that note, she put the mug down on the table for a clean on and a refill. Holding up one finger for a shot, taking it and pushing the glass back to the bartenders. Pulling another smoke out, lifting her pointing finger up as a tiny flame danced above the tip puffing to get it lit. Shaking her hand to rid the flame from her, deep inhale follows by a slow exhale. The one she thinks they called Ernest was loud and had a weird way of talking. Seemingly, people were leaving or dancing now. Not knowing how to dance herself, she remained drinking and being the loner, she is. The one Caltarok spoke to, she thinks she heard him addressed as Odh. Mental notes took, just incase needing to search these people out in the future.

Krice wasn't disconcerted by what he saw, per se (they all lived in Lythridel; there was a heap of weird crap to see), but the odd manner in which Ernest seemed to... -reclaim- himself was just that; odd. Once assured that the musicians had regained some semblance of normalcy, the warrior left his katana dormant at his side and returned his attention to the girls in his company, just in time to catch a glimpse of Tsuola's lingering champagne-displeasure, and to note Talyara's concern. " False alarm," he reassured, followed by a polite gesture to decline Ernest's offer. The warrior would stay here with the witch and dryad. Replying to the latter, he said, " I don't like any of those drinks," followed by a quizzical, " Don't know if there's one of blueberries, but it could probably be created if not." He nodded to indicate Talyara's invitation. " And the huckleberry wine is probably worth a try." He glanced at the chestnut-haired beauty, his expression uncharacteristically boyish. " I wouldn't know."

Tsuola 's eyes light up. “Now that sounds lovely, Talyara.” Thanks to Shishi, berry-flavored everything had become her favorite. It seemed to her that whatever had happened was over now, as one of the strange looking men claimed that he owed them all a drink. Naturally, she asks him, “Is there a blueberry drink I can have, please?” And Odhranos is regarded with a look of recognition, but also confusion. This surely is not the same mage that she met in Xalious before, is it? She steps away from the witch and warrior to approach the terramancer. If she is able to walk alongside him, she attempts to do so, but if not, she greets anyway. “I was right. Our paths would cross again in Frostmaw, Odhranos.”

Caltarok sighs in relief about Odh's friend, "Not this time. I hope to speak with Demeter a bit." He turns and heads off to where he last noticed her by the bar. He figured he would try to catch up with her and follow-up on the training mentioned the last time.

Talyara looks past Krice towards Ernest and Odh, canting her head to the side as she tries to decipher what had actually happened to put her warrior on edge. Whatever it was, seemed to be over with now and is confirmed as such by Krice. When he turns his attention back to the two women, she moves to stand beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning her head against his chest. "You -could- have some of the huckleberry wine if you wished." Looking towards Tsuola, she smiles as she approaches the others and smiles. "I like her," she comments to Krice.

Odhranos nods with understanding as Caltarok departs. "Do take care, I'll see you in Cenril sometime in the next while!" As he heads after Ernest in search of a promised drink, he is caught off guard by the voice of someone falling into stride alongside him. The voice is familiar but not one he can place immediately. Only when Tsuola mentions knowing their paths would cross does a memory surface. Odhranos tilts his head aside and smirks cheerily. "Right you were. Though I had thought they would have crossed sooner; so much has changed since we parted. How are you, Tsuola?" Odhranos tilts his smile in the dryad's direction as they approach the bar.

Demeter was still at the bar, looking over to see Caltarok just in time to see not only hear him state her name. Taking a deep drink of the brew in the mug, looking around at other as she always does. Constant aware of surroundings.

Ernest hadn't at first realized that he'd addressed -everyone- with his loud exclamation, but since Odhranos at least had accepted his offer of a drink and he had been particularly loud, he waved both him and this other woman over to join him at the refreshment table. "Blueberry?" he asked, as confirmation, thinking it over. He glanced at the drink selection--nothing -seemed- to be blueberry flavored. But he might be able to try -something-... he snagged a glass of some sort of wine and squinted at it, the dark fog that billowed off of his longcoat swirling around it to form a small magic circle of floating runes. Another Helpin' Hand had leaped onto Odhranos's shoulder and would fetch him some kind of drink from the table at his desire while Ernest worked his magic on the wine. "D'you prefer it stronger or weaker?" he asked Tsuola, peeking at her over the rim of the glass. "I got a thing fer either."

Krice watched Tsuola's departure until Talyara spoke, at which point he regarded her with an agreeable smile at the edges of his eyes. " I like her, too." Having sensed little in the remaining crowd who would pose a threat to either Tsuola or Talyara, though they could hold their own in various ways, the warrior murmured a word to the witch at his side and gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze before he stepped away.

Tsuola ;; “I am well, Odhranos.” The dryad considers pointing out that she had seen him a handful of times in Frostmaw actually, given that her tree is not far from the cabin he shares with a certain seamstress. Realizing with her spectral appearance, that sort of comment might sound far more creepy (and likely fitting, given her nickname being Ghost) than anticipated, she explains in a gentler way. “I considered approaching sooner, but Miss Stitch and I like to keep our boundaries. We are in each other's front yards, so to speak.” Then Ernest is replied to, once they approached the bar again. Having never seen a person mix drinks before, the dryad doesn't know what to expect. Strong or weak? The question elicits a slight tilt of her head and a blink of her black eyes. “Blueberry.”

Talyara frowns slightly when Krice whispers in her ear and steps away. With Tsuola socializing with the others, Tiber and Lana snuck away, Meri and Zahrani retired for the night, the little witch felt little need to stay here by her lonesome. Instead, she goes in search of the enigmatic swordsman to ensure his wellbeing.

Caltarok steps up to the bar and noticing the brass torc on his arms. He smiles as he orders a water from the bartender avoiding the chance of being impaired and losing control. Nodding to Demeter, "I see you was able to join the warriors guild. Congratulations. Was you able to find join the mages too?"

Svard moved steadily amongst the others. And, while a few of the finer folks avoided the man in the bear-skin, the Smith appeared to harbor no offense and afforded it no impediment to his good time. The bulk of his well-wishes and conversations ended up, however, being with the help. Whom were frequented his attentions due to the drinks, and particularly the food, they kept on hand. The purpose of this entire affair? He'd no idea. The host? Not a clue. The station and nature of the guests? Couldn't have told you. But he moved steadily through them all, his blond hair in tight, neat braids against his scalp. The wild look of him more akin to a warrior than a trademan. The means by which he carried himself far less intimidating than his aesthetic might suggest. To any that greeted he offered a smile. And while in many ways he did not conduct himself as a man familiar with courtly courtesies and affairs, he was polite in his own way. The way of -his- people. And it translated to good intentions.

Krice hadn't said his farewells to Tsuola, but she was busy with others and he saw fit to leave her as-is; they would cross paths again, undoubtedly. As he walked for the exit, not hurried but purposeful, he seemed privy to the presence of his witch companion and extended his right arm behind him, fingers splayed, inviting her hand to his own. Once coupled, the warrior would lead her through the main hall to the west wing in which his quarters were situated.

Odhranos raises his eyebrows and responds with a simple "Ahh." Then a pause. Then another "Ah." The pieces begin falling together. "That's your willow out the front of the cabin?!" Odh, dear, you're acting quite startled, whatever for? "Sven, if I'd known, I'd have said hello, we were practically neighbors." Odh is suddenly reminded of how the last few things he did in the cabin involved drilling a huge hole to Tristoth and almost blowing up the cabin trying to save Val. "I hope I didn't disturb you often." He remarks sheepishly, as Ernest's Helpin' Hand makes the wise decision of swiping the nearest liquor bottle and pouring Odh a dram. Which he downs gratefully.

Demeter looked up to Caltarok, “I need and warriors. So, I feel I am heading down the correct path and not away. Honestly, I accidentally found the lovely Quintessa. We ran into the other at a bridge. Was debating jumping off the bridge, just a small thrill you know?” Noting the choice of water, “Avoid liquor, Cal boy?” Taking notice of all those that were now joining the bar, especially Svard. Noting his appearance was similar if not akin to her own, same as his braids, style he kept his hair. If he had wings, she would had sworn he been part of the barbaric kingdom of avians she had been apart of.

Ernest paused. "Blueberry" could mean either one. Figuring she'd prefer to get the most out of her blueberry flavoring, he elected to go for the Strong enchantment, which was actually an extremely diluted form of The Curse of the Wandering Child. Weaving in a few notes of illusion in order to make the drink look and taste much blueberrier, he eventually finished his casting and allowed the runes to dissipate into harmless smoke. He presented the newly-altered glass of wine to the woman with a grin. "Blueberry," he said, "but don't let it go to your head." See, the problem was that Ernest was really kind of lousy at magic in general. In order to enchant items, he either had to draw runes on them--which in this case wasn't an option--or curse them. And so the glass of wine he offered to Tsuola was indeed cursed. Fortunately, he managed to tone down the -effects- of the curse, and Wandering Child wasn't his most dangerous one to begin with. It would manifest this time merely as a mild form of absentmindedness and low attention span--maybe even a subtle elevated feeling. Perhaps sort of like being drunk and high at the same time.

Svard had been considering the crowd at large when his eyes found Demeter's own. The Smith's gaze was a sharp one. It appraised quickly and without apology. And he nodded. A muted greeting across the distance - a silent acknowledgement. He had never seen creatures with wings before, not in the flesh, and all his curiosity came even as he lifted the tankard and took a pull from it.

Tsuola can't help laughing at Odhranos' reaction. His apology is given a dismissive wave, unaware that he cannot see. “Absolutely not! It was the most excitement my tree has seen in some time. Besides, smoothing out the snow again is always fun.” A pause follows, in which she notes the man clad in furs that she bumped into accidentally. His attire looked familiar, but she wasn't certain. She couldn't recall ever seeing a man clad in bear-skin before, but it reminded her of a people that had once lived out west, and have since migrated south. Gunvald was the first she had seen in ages, but perhaps this individual as well? “Kuronii,” she murmurs, fondly. Perhaps he is. Either way, her eyes turn to Ernest, who she watches with rapt attention. Is this what people did in taverns, she wonders. Watch magicians create strange concoctions by request? The blueberry drink presented to her is held tight in both black-fingered hands while she peers down into the glass. She takes a drink, hesitant just as she was before with the champagne flute, and is pleasantly surprise that it tastes strongly of blueberries! “I thank you, drink maker.”

Caltarok nods to Demeter's question. "That's great to hear about the guilds and indeed water just this time. Want to keep my wits about me this time. Though definitely want to take up on that training suggestion and spar hopefully soon. Maybe in the mountains later in between watching the matches for the tourney?"

Demeter ’s grey eyes narrowed, did he see her wings from under the enchanted cloak? If he did to her, he could be considered a threat. As if already not everyone to her was, until proven otherwise. Let alone Caltarok was a pending threat, almost marked off as non-threat. Her eyes went back to Caltarok, battle? Those large grey eyes lit up, almost sparkling. “That would be wonderful, think you can take on little me?” Did she try to make a joke?

Odhranos sheepishly nurses his glass of liquor as Tsuola chuckles. "Well, I'm glad to hear no harm was done. And I must take the time to properly appreciate you're tree when next I visit the cabin. Inks and I have been staying in Cenril lately, ever since…" Odhranos gestures towards his blindfold meaningfully. "But I miss the cabin. It's home at this point." Odh lapses into silence, sipping his drink and occasionally pulling a face at the strength of the alcohol. "Say, Ernest. What exactly did you with Tau's drink, if you don't mind me asking? A bit of hydromancy perhaps?"

Ernest tipped his hat politely to Tsu. "Yer very welcome." He took a swig from a flask he produced from a pocket, then squinted and glared at it. Strangely, it was almost as if he'd -felt- that. These run-ins with Shishi were doing something for him. Good thing he'd be doing more shortly. Odhranos's question brought him out of his introspection. "Hmm? Oh, not exactly." He took a couple of steps towards Odhranos to whisper in his ear more of what he'd done, so as not to spoil the magic for the lady.

Ernest whispered something to Odhranos.

Caltarok raises an eyebrow at Demeter's comment, "A joke? I think we both know you may be the better hands on between the two of us. Though… you may find me more than a match in other ways?" Looking around, he lowers his voice to her. "Trying to hide more from the courts?"

Demeter crinkles up her L shaped nose from getting broken too many times, so many she had lost count. “Yeah, I tried to make a funny. I am working on being better at socializing.” Almost, almost and tempted to bump him with her hidden from sight wings. Her thoughts paused as he made his statement of ‘find him a match in other ways’. What did he mean by that? With his voice lowered, she leaned in to hear it. Her high pointed ears twitching, answering in low tones. “Why reveal one of my weapons? What if someone gets the insane idea to touch my wings without my permission? Having wings draws too much attention, so I took this handy thing off a merchant. Maybe by force.” She stomps her smoke out with her heel.

Tsuola normally felt overly protective of her tree, considering it was her life source in essence, but the terramancer didn't seem like the type to chop a tree down without asking first. “I hope you enjoy it. It's home for me,” she replies. A slight frown begins to form when it finally dawns on her why Odhranos is wearing a blindfold. “I apologize that you cannot see. Perhaps one day you will again?” Her tone is uncertain, but she takes another swig of her blueberry drink. Whatever magic it was imbued with was slowly beginning to take hold, with the dryad feeling a distinct lightness she couldn't place. “I like this,” she remarks to Ernest. “I would like another one someday.”

Caltarok chuckles and nods understanding Demeter about the wings, "Understood. Glad to hear nothing major with what you are trying to avoid." Caltarok waves a hand dismissively as he gets the water and begins nursing it slowly to turn to face Demeter. "Got to say… these are weird traditions going on here. Are you battling in this tourney?"

Odhranos brows furrow at Ernest's explanation and he is about to suggest that Tsuola try something more mundane, but she has already taken a swig so… let's just pray the undead cowboy knows what he's doing. " Perhaps someday. But for now, I have my magic, which helps me in lieu of sight." Odh casts his eyes to the ground, where he can see the silvery footprints of the gathered partygoersl that remain. He has kept an eye on the footprints he can match names to, and has an idea who the people around him are, but a pair of footprints have not been greeted yet. Odh raises his unseeing gaze and gestures towards Svard. Odh is feeling friendly tonight, so he raises a hand in greetings "Well met, friend. Would you like a drink?" He asks the bear-skin-wearing Norseman.

Demeter shook her head no, “No, figure I would come for the free drinks. Or least I think they are free, or I owe for how much I have drank.” Her pale pink lips formed an O as in to silently say, ‘oops’. “It kind of reminds me of home, except the ones battling were able to take a maiden to their quarters to be ready for battle the next day. Just not a dance like these, was more of a huge fire and drums playing. A lot of drinking, sometimes by spring woman bosoms be full of new life. Which caused a lot of angry wives, and wives fighting the other woman for right over the child. We liked to shed blood.”

Caltarok tries to imagine what Demeter just transcribed to him and shakes his head. "Even that is foreign to me. For me… we didn't always battle that oft'. The elders and queen certainly limit in battle beyond the contests to find companions and prove oneself. Much like you over tribes fought with each other… but in different ways." Caltarok's gaze drifts back to his earliest memories and the battles consisting more of wit and the use of strength without always drawing blood. The other races certainly seemed barbaric in comparison.

Tsuola has now emptied the glass. She's peering down at it, saddened that there is no more. Odhranos replied to her some time ago, didn't he? Slowly her head lifts, to face him. “What did you say again? I must not have heard. Or I forgot. Or...” Her head lowers to the bar to rest, pale arms folded beneath it. “I don't feel so good.” Her stomach churns. Is magic alcohol good for dryads? Looks like the answer's no.

Ernest nodded to Tsuola and Odhranos and tipped his hat, reaching out a hand to gather up all his Helpin' Hands. "You'll have ta come by my office, or I ta yours." His hand made a twisting motion and produced a business card for her, given Odhranos wasn't exactly in a good state for reading such things. The card read "Ernest Crane, Villainous Consulting Services" in large letters, followed by a brief list of what those services actually were: "Scheme Planning, General Mayhem, Customized Curses, etc." followed by an office number in the necromancer's tower in Vailkrin and hours he might be available. "Fer now, I have ta be off. Good meetin' y'all, though! See you around." And with that, he headed for the exit, taking one of those Helpin' Hands and tinkering with it a bit, pulling something else from his pocket and wedging it between a couple of the bones. Then, on his way out, he casually, surreptitiously, tossed the modified hand inside the machinery of the mobile organ. What exactly he planned to do with it, he hadn't figured out yet. But it was good to have options.

Demeter shrugs, “Nation of who can best the other, a lot of pride and ego. Unless you were part of,” she pauses trying to remember the term. “The warriors, no the militia. Yes that is it. If you were in the militia, unless in the top of the tops. Even then you were paired with someone of equal and good breeding. It is odd, I even felt it odd. Marriage never based on love, only based upon the promise of good offspring that benefit out kingdom.” She tilts her head, “What of you?” Looking around her, noticing how everyone was leaving. “Should we head out? I think they are closing things up here. Do you know the way out of here? Or do I need to provide it?”

Odhranos perks up when Ernest addresses him, but he almost pouts when his new friend says he's leaving. "Well, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We must jam again sometime." Ernest is waved off just as Tsu plops herself down and complains about not feeling too well. Ernest, you son of a - Odh casts about in search of something to help. Damnit, he can't even see where a glass of water might be found. "Ahh, ehh… bear with me Tsu…" Odh leans over the bar and requests some water, awkwardly accepting the glass from the bartender and holding it out to Tsuola. "If you're feeling poorly, then it mightn't be a bad call to get you home. C'mon, I'll help you up and we'll find Inks"

Tsuola is drunk snoozin, faceplanted on Ernest's business card. I promise she isn't dead.

Odhranos heard a joke once about a blind man and a dryad walking into a bar. Turns out it's a lot less funny when they're walking out of the bar and the tree is depending on the blind man to walk. Odh sets off in the hopes of finding Inks before Tsuola starts snoring. 01:58:38Tsuola audibly groans. Did she have to get up? She feels kinda comfy resting right here. But her tree isn't too far, is it? "O-oh? Okay, we can go Odhranos." Lifting her head, Ernest's business card now stuck to her forehead, she slumps into the terramancer and pivots for the exit. "To the cabbin with you," she slurs. "The tree with -hic - me.."

Iintahquohae shouted, "Are you -both- drunk?!"

Caltarok having noticed the emptying fort shrugs, "I know the way out… maybe a few ways I shouldn't too. Where should we head the tavern? Or just should we head to the mountains and prepare to train?" Caltarok moved to stand and to leave out the main door before adding, "As for my people… let's just say we didn't shed blood to oft' though the tribes did have healthy contest of strength. Though for us we didn't… ummm… marry often. Some did out of love and others because the queens/elders wished it."

Odhranos said to Iintahquohae, "Short answer, yes. Long answer, the tree is mauldy and the me is tipsy. Help me, she's heavy"

Demeter started moving towards the exit, “Honestly, this is my first time since I have been a wee thing seen snow. So, let’s take the long way to the tavern?” Waiting till they both were outside to speak more, “Marriage for love? That was a rare thing where I am from, I guess it was trumped over for the more of gain. I know my parents did not love, least from what I am told. Never knew my mother.” {{PC|Haakon}