RP:Yule Be Sorry

Part of The Savage Queen Arc

Continued at Part 2

Concluded at Part 3

Summary: The annual Frostmaw Yule Ball kicks off with splendor and spectacle as guests arrive in their finery. The fete is a glad affair, with prizes and the title of Queen and King of Love and Beauty awarded to Alvina and Kreekitaka for their exceptional attire. Suddenly, a sonorous voice fills the hall and upsets the festivities.

Frostmaw Fort Main Room

Leone :: The Main Hall is festooned with snow and ice, the austere aire normally sported by the war-hardened building almost entirely dispelled by the festive decorations. The walls have been draped with glittering bunting of fresh fallen snow, each facet of the powdery snowpack glinting like encrusted diamond dust. An icicle chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the crystalline points refracting the light of the candles they pierce and hold aloft like waxen effigies of former foes. A long table occupied the far northern wall of the room, leaving just enough room for servants and pages to come and go. It is laden with food and drink, delicacies that breath the spirit of Yule in the steam that curls up from them. Winter berry greenery bedecks the table here and there, bringing special notice to the Steward's favorite dishes. Against the western wall, a five-piece band of musicians strums, plucks, and sings tunes of Frostmaw's past. Chairs and settees with rolled arms and staunch, tall backs clad the remainder of the walls, over reprieve from the festivities for those who need it. The center of the room is vacant, obviously left open for those wishing to dance.

Pilar was amazed she'd made it in time, having to go all the way to Vailkrin to retrieve her dress, then climb up the mountain in the span of an afternoon. It wouldn't have been an issue had she not spent the entirety of yesterday in bed recuperating from horrible mage-induced burns. Artia's magic had worked wonders for her, but she still wasn't completely healed. Her arms, torso and upper legs had been salved and bandaged, though they weren't visible. Pilar's gown was almost Puritanical in its modesty, covering her from throat to ankle. A black bodice embroidered with red gave her some semblance of a figure, but the remainder of the dress was plain, unadorned ruby velvet. She wore her same gold-colored shoes, despite the fact that they had definitely seen better days. She simply hadn't had the money to get new ones for the ball. She hoped no one would notice. She looked around the room, searching for Artia.

Lanara :: A hush falls over the room as Lanara steps through the doors, and surveys the scene with large, chocolate brown, doe eyes. Several men clear their throats, women peer into their glasses, and others merely stare in awe at the beautiful brunette. Pausing a few feet into the room, she nips her gloss-covered lower lip and glances at the multitude of those that had gathered for the annual Yule Ball. Feeling somewhat out of place, as she doesn’t have a date, and everyone seems stunned by her beauty, she swallows hard and slowly walks fully into the room. Wearing a sleeveless pearl white gown, with small snowflakes embroidered on the fine fabric, she tugs her color-changing shawl tighter around her bare arms. The dress is form-fitting on her bosom and torso, cinches at the waist, and lightly shifts outwards, until it reaches her ankles. Donning silver pumps for shoes, and having added just enough make-up to accentuate her fine facial features, the woman appears to have captured the meaning of the Yule Ball, to perfection, as she appears to be sparkling and shimmering with every step she takes. The snowflakes sparkle each time light catches them, and the color-changing shawl appears to be made of a unique and likely expensive material, possibly purchased from Kreekitaka, the crab. Even the woman’s hair is done in an elegant style, as she wears it flowing freely, though there are miniscule snowflake pins scattered throughout, so that when she turns her head, her hair always seems to shine and beams of sparkles emanate from her, whenever the light catches the pins. Arriving at the table full of treats, she extends a dainty hand, which has shimmering bangles around the wrist, to place some delectable desserts on her plate. Turning to the side, she peers around the room and finds a seat at a vacant table, where she pulls a chair out and smoothes her ballgown over her slender figure, before lowering herself onto the chair.

Linn , for the first time in quite a while, was wearing something other than his mithril armor around Frostmaw when he stepped into the ballroom. His outfit was formed from thick black felt, stitched to angle and straighten itself around his shoulders and joints and complement his lean form with a hawk-like sharpness. It was originally a rather plain, undecorated outfit until he had given it his own flair of the unusual. Bright cherry-red threads wove their way outwards from a single meeting point square in the center of his chest, the spider-like filaments spreading over his body and running parallel to his limbs and each other to bring out their motion with every twist or turn he made. The only time they ever intersected or met was around his joints where they would fracture off to make more wherever they had become too sparse to map out the movement of his dark shape. It was once he was in the ballroom that he decided to play the effect to its fullest as soft, immaterial streams of energy sprang from the threads and over his body, twinning his black physical form with the soft crimson glow of an ethereal one that flowed with him, small strands trailing off behind his motion as if he were a ghost. He was told he couldn’t wear armor, but it would serve that purpose if he had to make it. Being one of the first in he was able to catch the view before the chaos of the party began, finding Lanara and approaching her and grabbing one of the more free snacks on his way up, smoothing his motions to let the red glow flow with him as he slipped into the chair next to the witch with a smile at her own sparkling dress.

Artia arrived on horseback, getting off the horse the female was dropped in a black silk robe. Walking inside she found herself a table. Removing her robe to hang on the back of her chair, revealing her midnight blue gorgeous floral lace gown for the evening. The dress was covered in lace from her chest down. Fitting her hourglass shape better then any of her gowns as this one had been custom for her by a seamstress in Larket, this fit and flare dress embodies classic elegance. Sleeveless bodice with a boatneck front and deep V-back add a touch of sultry sophistication. A voluminous flared lace skirt added for the perfect amonunt of drama and easy movement. Along the dress sparkled sapphires stitched in. Each time she moved, the dress seemed to move like the ocean, adding to her graceful steps. Three inches from the bottom of the dress down, was enchanted to look like a starry night, stars twinkling constantly. The druidic Witch's hair was curled, adding to the curves of the female. Sapphires clipped throughout the curls, wide hips swayed side to side as she moved, glass heels was the style for her feet this evening. Catching the majestic of the enchanted stars her shoes even sparkled, she stood a tall five foot ten with the heels. Artia even applied a light perfume making her smell sweet as honey, tanned lip gloss applied to her plump full luscious lips. Her eyes scanned the place as she headed towards the bar to pick up a cinnamon schnapps, once her hand picked it up the druid witch turned, hips swaying side to side as if to a song inside her mind. Alas the Witch's hips naturally swayed. Moving to sit back down at the claimed table. Parting the luscious lip glossed lips taking a sip. Pulling out her necklace, quartz charm with the Larket insignia embedded marking her the Larket's Apothecary. Once she sat people whispered in praise of the Apothecary attire whispering among each other about who she was. Artia was proud of the position she held in Larket.

Khitti was not spectacularly dressed in her midnight-blue, knee-length dress. This trip to Frostmaw, despite the ball, was business after all. After very recent events in the tavern, she took to wearing the hood that was attached to and keeping to herself, crimson locks, pale face, and dark eyes concealed. Stress levels were over nine thousand currently and rising as the amount of people already present were eyed warily. She stuck to the outskirts of the hall, a natural wallflower, content with people watching until she were approached or until she were brave enough to actually go speak to anyone at all. Black heeled boots bring her to a randomly chosen wall away from others, verdant hues scanning each face for the alchemist she sought.

Hildegarde never did like to be late to things. It was just impolite! Yet Mikael, her trusted guard, confidante and friend, had made her wait. He had fussed over her dress and her hair as if he were a stylist who just happened to be a very skilled warrior. Finally, the two ventured to the doors that none would enter through: the doors leading from the throne room. The two exchanged a glance and Hildegarde nodded her head, as if to silently say she was ready to go through. Mikael, in full Queensguard regalia, opened the double doors widely and spoke with a booming voice; an ideal voice for a herald, “Hail, the Lady of Frostmaw!” he announces to the room, knowing the title was one that was reserved for the Queenly figures of Frostmaw alone. Yet Hildegarde cannot look to him and reprimand him or else all her guests will know that her guard has played her as Queen and not just heir to the throne. The Silver stands tall and proud, looking across the room before deigning to step into it and begin the process of socialising and mingling. All will notice that her dress, while in the Frostmaw blues, is a combination of fabric, leather and chainmail: a dress that truly characterises Frostmaw as a city always prepared for war.

Ashe had not expected to starr in a band, when hired. Of course, he hadn't expected to be hired to begin with. Still, when he'd been come to rehearse on-scene he'd been met with the unexpected existence of a band of, ah, local talent. Of course, more people to play more instruments made things easier even if it was a matter of simpler music in the spirit of cultures such as Frostmaw. Even still, assuming simple meant easy would've been a rookie mistake. As the band set up and went to work shortly before the doors to the ball opened, they'd rehearsed these 'simple' pieces of music until they could hear them ringing in their ears while sleeping. Like any tradition passed down from generation to generation, the seemingly simple was deceptively complex. Still, the program had been enhanced with one or another foreign tune more fitted to the ballroom scene. At the moment, however, it was a matter of simple instrumental. A setting of the mood. Enjoyable background noise. Leaving Ashe to sit rather relaxed and nonchalant and watch the guests stream into the hall. Unlikely many others, Ashe had not dressed specifically for the occasion. The bard hadn't exactly had a chance to procure a new set of clothes specifically for the big day, as he'd been hired a mere handful of days prior and most of that time went into other business. As such, he sat in his usual-- though not entirely unsuitable-- ensemble. A burgundy and forest green vest of shining cloth with silver claps and inlays over a bright white shirt with loose foldable sleeves and a pair of pants in the same high-quality cloth and colors, one pant leg burgundy and the other green, flaring out in distinct patterns and splitting up widely before reaching the bards feet. He smiled out towards the patronage and winked at one or the other from behind his round, green tinted, spectacles while drawing the bow over the strings of his violin with undisturbed precision.

Aira had toyed with the idea of whether or not to go to the ball, sitting in her room in the tavern pondering her options. In the end she had decided to go, not for the food or festivities, but rather for an ulterior motive. She was still in need of a bow and what better way then to steal one from the armory when a grand ball is going on to use as a distraction? She breathed out a deep sigh, crinkling her nose slightly at the thought of channeling the old Aira, the one who grew up in a noble house in Rynvale and was expected to play the part of a lady. She supposed she was thankful for bringing some of her old clothes with her which were mostly fine gowns. Sighing, she rose from her bed and moved to the wardrobe to paw through her dresses. The hunter had spent the latter part of the afternoon getting herself ready, fixing her hair and even putting on some makeup. She fled from the tavern when it was nearly time, hurrying down the stairs and through the room before anyone could comment on her attire, although she would swear she saw a small smirk upon Drargon's face. She was rather bashful as she entered the fort, her golden hued heels clacking against the floor, hoisting her height to nearly six feet. Her dress was crafted magnificently, the sleeveless, form-fitting bodice covered in nothing but metallic jewels. At the hip, gold silken fabric flared out to the ground, those same crystals that made up the bodice thinning out the lower they got on the dress, the hem ending in a flowy train that fluttered elegantly behind her with each step she took. Hidden from view was a garter around her mid-thigh which held the small dagger normally reserved for her boot; this might be a merry occasion but as a trained hunter she did not wish to be unprepared before she could get her hands on a bow. The hair above her left tapered ear was freshly sheared and the longer tresses were swept over her right shoulder, clasped into place by a crystal pin, soft waves of platinum locks cascading down her chest. The makeup she wore was minimal, just enough to enhance the natural beauty she tried to deny. The only item that seemed out of place was a black glove-like cast upon Aira's hand, a gift from Frotsmaw's healers to protect her deeply frostbiten fingers; however, it did not distract from her beauty. Truly, the high elf was breathtaking, perhaps even more so since she was normally seen in Frostmaw furs and hunting gear. Hoping she would not draw too much attention to herself, she slinked into the back of the fort and wove her way through the crowd, copper irises looking for a familiar face.

Xzavior walked in and looked around the party, a few looks past his way a couple knowing what laid under his disguise and gave him looks of disgust. Xzavior wore a black suit and his hair had been combed back, he was properly trimmed and looking livelier then ever. Adjusting his collar he made his way to the large table of food and dished himself a plate. Giving another look he caught sight of Artia sitting at one of the tables and made his way over, "Well, you were right, my heart did stop

Ynhaldei shrugs, "Cold as always..." an outsider, trying to get used in the cold, frozen land of Frostmaw, things that people do for 'reasons' shaking her head as she soon shed off her wool-fur coat thing... who would even bother knowing what animal is in it anyway?! Its warm... The End. Well atleast for her, that's the thing, others may want the purity of the cloth and all other aspects that she isn't bothered to even think of right now. Word of mouth does spread faster than the newspaper around this parts, a Party to celebrate... something. She can't remember, anyway. She is here... She is hoping to find Orikahn here... or maybe Hildegarde, She probably knows where he is. Entering the hall and giving her coat to one of the servants by the doorway as she rubbed her hand against her arms. Wearing her black corset, long sleeve black blouse, bow-tie, white gloves and black socks, pretty much her usual clothing as her profession. A magician. She tops it all with a hat as she went into the hall, hoping to find a hearth of sort to warm up her body or some Ale.. Liquor would be nice. Looking around for now, searching for anyone familiar.

Hudson and Ansel have gotten ready in the same hotel room, their dates having banished them to paint their faces and curl their hair andHildegardeor do whatever it is they're doing in there. Hudson and Ansel are in tuxes and ready in maybe 10 minutes. Most of this time is spent in the group think exercise of tying Ansel's bow tie, because it's hard and ye olde YouTube-on-the-cellphone maneuver isn't possible in Hollow. Hudson has some words for Ansel's decision to not get the one that comes pre-tied. Why would you do that, man? Anyway, they manage, no thanks to Ansel, whose bow tie is a little bit crooked despite best efforts. The men wait another 5 minutes (what are they doing in there) before they break into the mini bar and begin liquidating the tiny flavored liquor bottles in there. They are in truly great spirits, pun intended, and smelling vaguely like high proof banana-flavored liquor, by the time Josleen and Alvina have joined them. After presumably the customary you-look-beautifuls that are exchanged at such events, everyone piles into the same carriage and stares at everyone else until they arrive. The foursome stay together as they walk into the room, as groups tend to do, and Hudson finds himself next to Ansel, as they were tasked with getting the drinks and are waiting with a larger group of men who presumably were also tasked with getting the drinks. "So, don't look now, BUT: Lanara ten o'clock," he says in an offhand, discreet way to the other man. Huds orders the booze for the group, letting Ansel off the hook so that he can do the thing where you sneakily pretend to be engrossed in looking at something in a woman's general direction.

Corinth walks obliviously into the main room of Fort Frostmaw, scanning the scenery with bright green eyes that seem to emit peace and tranquility. Unlike the rest of the crowd, the avian's attire is simple and rugged, plain leather garb and riding boots. The only thing elegant adorning his body is the exquisitly crafted rapier sheathed at his left hip. Despite this, his natural grace and beauty as well as his large, alabaster wings seem to more than compinsate for his generic garments. Corinth peruses throughout the crowd, bowing politely and greeting every guest with a bright smile. He sees a familiar face and comes to stand before the one known as Savio. "Good evening. It pleases me to see you again. I do believe a bit of magic was used for me to arrive in this strange place, but I've found that it's always best to just go with these kinds of things. I am where I am......I always say.......and I' m always right. Hahahahaha!"

Savio walked slowly to the front doors of fort, He had at first considered a simple dress code like that of his classic cotton black clothes with a scarf, but a friend from his past from a land to the extreme north of the contient had sent him a suit just for him. From the top down he wore a tall felt black hat, with a brown trench coat, underneath when he removed it and placed it on the coat rack with his hat, was a dark blue suit with purple silk shirt, around his neck he wore a black scarf with neon green patterns, and his pants were well groomed and matchedhis attire. On his feet he wore soft leather boots black as night but fanciful and not made for deep snow travel. His only regret crossing his mind was not being able to get a hold of a date with somone he knew. After entering the room he glanced at those who had entered before finding a seat at a table with somone children where he pulled out some candies for them, as well as some toys he had bought from a tinker to give them.

Drileana enters the room rather quietly, her crimson eyes taking in the sight of ballroom. While others are immaculately dressed, the necromancer's chosen garb for this evening perhaps comes off as a touch muted; she wears a flowing gown the same color as her skin, the very same garment gifted to her by Phaedra just days ago. Truthfully, Draelina would be far more content wearing nothing, but such displays are oft considered vulgar or shocking on the surface...which would lead to a wealth of unwanted attention in such a populated place. The midnight gown is quite adept at accentuating the drowess' curvy shape without being especially revealing, and it allows her to move rather easily as she surveys the various strangers. Not a face here is familiar to Draelina, and as such there is nothing resembling a date on her arm. A hand lifts to tame a pearly lock of hair while the dark elf watches quietly, her presence a touch unassuming compared to others...save for the whole being a drow bit.

Artia looked up from an empty glass, her blue and red eyes wide at the way Xzavior had dressed. She didn't expect the naga to clean up so nice, thinking he would wear just a shirt and some slacks. Blushing softly, pushing a curly lock from her visage to show she painted a snow flake at the corner of both her mismatched eyes. "I told you my gown was stunning, and you look rather handsome yourself, Frost." Standing up, she nodded for him to follow, revealing the V-shaped opening of her back, showing off the well done tattoos of a willow tree, with each element t engraved into the bark. "Join me for a drink?" Offering her arm, "Have you seen Pilar yet? This place is so crowded already."

Ynhaldei :: "Clearly" she spoke out quietly. Everyone is so well dressed tonight, unlike her... she looks like a mere servant alongside these people... then again she isn't here to socialize or win how-much-gold-did-I-lose-to-get-looked-at-because-of-my-clothes award anyway. She is here for information, business and the like. She needed someone found and someone here knows where he is. She needs a job aswell... then again what can a magician get in these lands anyway? She can't put into her resume 'Tactician for pillaging cities', that she is sure of. She finally shrugged and went for the food table at first, so many males are going for the drinks right now and would not bother joining a seemingly never ending line before it. Working on looking for some warm meals for now, hopefully to heat her up enough to deny this cold.

Hildegarde begins to mingle with the crowd, Mikael her giant shadow for now. However, Hildegarde is a dragon and like all dragons she has an appetite! She finds her feet taking her towards the buffet, where she picks at some nibbles and politely offers a smile and a hello to whomsoever was nearby. She’s got her eye on that cakelog though. She’s checking who comes by for a second helping.

Pilar 's search for Artia revealed to her the presence of an abundance of beautiful women. The vampire could hardly turn her head without beholding a figure of radiance, which became quite distracting after awhile. She also noticed several familiar faces and was almost tempted to stop and talk with some of them, but she had come as Artia's date, so the least she could do was find her. Making her way to the tables, she eventually found the witch she sought, in the company of Xzavior, no less, and wowie wow wow. The witch was a sight to behold, definitely the most gorgeous out of all the women in the room. The witch, apparently not seeing her, left with Xzavior for the drink table. Pilar felt a pang of jealousy, and picked up the pace to catch up with them. She eventually made it to Artia's side, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Mi rosa..." She was too tongue-tied to say anything more.

Alvina was struggling with her outfit while Hudson and Ansel left to go gather an appropriate amount of something to drink. Against Josleen's stern opinion that the bard should NOT have worn that strappy black thing Hudson was trying to pass off as a dress, Alvina had already given her word and found herself in the middle of all these elegantly dressed ladies looking a bit like she belonged in the tavern for some sort of seedy aftermath. It was flattering, sure, but it was more eccentric than ANYTHING she normal wore. A few looks were shot her way from some already intoxicated but well dressed men, sitting in a pack that raised the invisible hairs on the back of her neck and drew her to stay as close to Jos as possible. What if Chester, the feline from the Frostmaw Tavern was here?! Alvina couldn't imagine. Her shoes, hair and make up appeared to be the only sensible or lady like decisions she'd made this evening. Modest silver heels with strappy buckles that climbed her ankles like ivy. Very light make up; because it was her freckles that really light up her pale complexion in the first place. Her hair is curled into fabulous ribbons and were magically still intact. Give them another hour or so before they uncurled themselves, she thought while she kept one hand tugging the hem of her dress down as far as possible without removing it from the top half of her body. "You were right..." she whispered to Josleen, wondering if it was too late to hope in a carriage and see about changing this outfit situation post haste.

Larewen approached the gathering quietly enough, her steps carefully calculated. Those that passed near her would feel the thrum of magic in the air around her; the necromancer's craft was, for the moment at least, serving as her sight and guiding her so that she might not walk into someone or something. Again, the elf had garbed herself in a red, form-fitting halter dress, though this time the gown was of a more festive hue rather than crimson as her last had been. The dress was accented with golden embroidery, which given its glitter in the room's light, might actually be real. Over her shoulders, to protect her from the cold (as if her dead body needed it), the necromancer wore a semi-transparent shawl of golden damask. Her hair was drawn upward into a bun, with a few strands curled to frame her pale features. Golden hoops adorned the the lobes of her pointed ears, their matching bangles upon her wrists. Strapped heels, bearing that same bright hue as the accents upon her gown, made a subtle clicking noise upon the floor, easily lost in the din of the gathering. The elf only made it a few steps into the crowd, though. Quickly, the myriad noises overwhelmed Larewen and her magic was drawn inward, lids closing over sightless eyes as she attempted to figure her place within the hall.

Khitti 's lips twist into a frown beneath her hood. Emelyan was nowhere to be found. At least not yet. She had remembered him mentioning that he knew Hildegarde and the vampiress now watched the leader of Frostmaw quietly from her spot nearby. Much consideration was given silently in that head of hers, trying to decide whether or not she should approach the woman and ask on his possible whereabouts or even just to pass along a message to him.

Savio glancing at the trophies on the wall savio tries to catch his breath large groups of people had always increased his anxeity and now he needed to catch his breath. Loosening his scarf he kept walking down the hall.

Lanara lifts her head as Linn lowers himself into a chair at her side, and peers over his shoulder, as though she was hoping to see her sibling. Shaking her head as Talyara was nowhere in sight, causes her tear-drop diamond earrings to likely sway from the movement. “You look very handsome, Linn. I’m pleased to see you, though… Where is my sister? I thought you two would come together, as you –are- a couple, are you not?” Frowning slightly, she takes a sip of her drink, and immediately lowers her arm, not wanting the male to see the self-inflicted slash marks on her inner wrist. Thankfully, the bangle bracelets managed to cover up most of the scarring, so her secret was likely safe. Lana feigns a smile at Linn and watches as several couples begin to step onto the dance floor, a dreamy look in her chocolate hues. The witch missed Krystan, dearly, though she seemed stronger than she had in days, and she even ventured out to the ball, so perhaps she was accepting his loss. Time heals all wounds, she thinks, and being her very first ball, she had to accept and see what all the fuss was about. Hudson was given a quizzical look and a raised brow, though her attention would quickly shift to the gold-hued dress that Aira wore, and she would raise her hand in greeting to the blonde.

Xzavior Taking her arm he followed her lead back to the drinks, his eyes barely leaving her figure for more than a few seconds. He was just about to say something about the whereabouts of Pilar right before catching sight of her walk over and tapping Artia's shoulder. So instead he just pointed.

Josleen and Alvina’s friendship is not yet close enough for Josleen to put her foot down and ban this bandage dress monstrosity. Instead, she delicately hems-and-haws until Alvina agrees to at least wear a shawl. The women do each other’s make-up and hair then sneak a little drink of rose from their own minibar (not the banana-liquor, which is for wild animals). In the carriage she falls silent and nervous. She and Ansel are arriving as a date, and those in the know would understand why this makes her nervous, but also elated. Jitters flutter through body as she enters the spectacular ballroom on Ansel’s arm. Blues seems to be on trend, and Josleen won’t fall behind. She too wears a blue dress, in a royal shade that flatters her figure modestly, though her back is bare, as it is her favorite asset to flaunt and draw attention to. Her hair is drawn up loosely to show off the diamond-and-pearl earrings that Ansel gifted to her for yule; that, and she wants to dance without a curtain of sweaty hair to contend with. She dresses for the party, and in a full-length and appropriate gown to boot (ALVINA, GIRL). When the men leave to get the drinks, Josleen reassures Alvina that she looks great, and not to worry because she is not the most under-dressed attendee Josleen discreetly nods towards Xzavior, who is wearing a suit instead of a tux. (Sorry, Xzavior, Josleen is not sympathetic to the difficulty of finding a tuxedo tailored for a naga). Josleen scans the room for Hildegarde but finds Lanara first and immediately feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise like Alvina’s but for a very different reason. She sends Alvina a knowing look and mouths, “Lanara, 10 o’clock.”

Linn shrugged and sighed at the question of where Talyara had gone. “Couldn’t find her anywhere. The ball was starting as well so I figured I’d show up here and wait for her. If she comes we can have our time, but otherwise well, we just have to keep ourselves busy don’t we?” He grinned before reaching out to pull Lanara into a side-hug, the glowing threads tracing the motion through the air and letting it hang there for a split second. “We can always make some more time later, but for now we’ll be fine.” He followed the witch’s gaze to Aira before waving the hunter over as well, the glowing red that embroidered his outfit and trailed his arm able to make the motion quite visible to her.

Ashe decided, upon the judgment that there were enough people in the hall and that far too many were already crowding the buffet andHildegardeor hiding from one another in some corner or at some table, to take it up a notch, as they say in Cenril. He gave his sidekicks-- because if you asked him that's what the band was-- a knowing look and launched into a different tune as soon as the current one finished. Less background noise and more... music. Something slightly louder. Something easier to dance to. Something more *provoking*. After all, with so many first timers (a trained eye can tell) what fun would this be without an invisible and encourage kick to the hind quarters?

Artia felt a hand on her shoulder, gasping as she turned around to see Pilar, her mouth dropped to see the gorgeous Pilar. "Pilar..yiu are stunning..not like you weren't already..but you truly let your beauty show more then ever. Come let us three grab a drink, I don't know about you..I need liquid encouragement." Placing a soft kiss to her cheek, chuckling at the lip marks left to the cheek of the witch. Leaning towards the naga she whispered to him, blushing while looking at Pilar. My goodness the vampire was the belle of the ball.

Ynhaldei finally found her... although she is stuffing food in her own mouth. Uhm... How should I approach this? curious if it was the same person even. Hildegarde, the scary-lady-knight of Frostmaw. Atleast she isn't wearing armor this time, she nearly didn't see her. Well, she can't see in the first place but the form of her body matched Hilde.. so unless Hildegarde has a doppelganger, she is quite sure this one is the woman she is looking. She approached her, though didn't speak just yet, waiting for her to finish her meal.. or finish at all as she seems to be trying to taste everything on the table.

Phaedra quietly enters the party, that certain feminine grace to her step. As she runs her piercing indigo gaze over the others at the ball, she seems to notice a few people including her sister. Offering a slight wave and a smile, she makes her way over to her sister wondering to herself if anyone else was here that she knew.

Larewen allowed the faintest of smiles to curve the corners of ruby painted lips when Hildegarde's voice cut through the din around her. It gave the necromancer a much needed focal point, and whatever the Silver had to speak to her about would, undoubtedly, be of far more interest to the scholar than mingling with guests she could not see. Again, there was a flare of the elf's magic and she again began to weave her way through those gathered, slowly finding her way to Hildegarde's side. Upon reaching it, the elf would lift her chin in greeting, only it wasn't quite directed as much at the dragon as it ought to be. Dark brown eyes stared past the Silver as Larewen inquired, "Of what, must we speak?"

Pilar didn't think she was all that pretty, especially not compared to Artia or any of the other women in attendance, but she took the compliment anyway. "Thank you... You are beautiful, too." Smooth. Her vampiric hearing didn't quite catch what Artia said, as she was briefly distracted by the sight of another woman making her way over to the group.

Lanara accepts the half-hug from Linn, and pats his shoulder in response, giving the male a real smile, this time. Slight worry eased into her mind at the thought of her sister missing the festivities, but knowing Taly, she was likely off on another mischievous adventure and they would catch up later. “You’re right. I know that Talyara will have a good reason for arriving late, or for missing the ball. I’m sure all is fine, and she wants us to have a blast. I really need this night out… I have been cooped up for days!” Shifting her hues to the quartet once more, she now spies Josleen muttering something beneath her breath and casting a glance in her direction. Was there something on her face? Were her privates peeking out from the dress? Uncertain, she takes a quick peek at her cleavage and sighs in relief, as the girls were in the right place. Awkwardly a hand would be raised towards Hudson, Ansel, Josleen, and the scantily clad woman that appeared to be Hudson’s date. This was a Yule Ball, and Lana didn’t have anymore anger towards Josleen or Ansel, so perhaps turning a new leaf was in order.

Eleanor slipped in discreetly over by wherever the food was being held, a glass of alcohol in one hand, the other finding her hip. Celadon irises drifted about the room, each person in attendance surreptitiously sized up. Although she did recognize at least two people present, she made no attempt to speak with them, or even acknowledge their presence as of yet. She preferred to keep under the radar for as long as she could; she was even wearing a proper dress, as opposed to her usual outrageously-inappropriate-for-her-line-of-work get-up.

Hildegarde paid no heed to the fact that Larewen’s nod was not quite on target. All that mattered was that woman had safely made her way through the crowd. Yet as she is about to speak to Larewen, Ynhaldei is evidently waiting for an audience with the Steward. The Silver offered Larewen a smile she could not see and spoke with sincerity, “I apology, m’lady, but it’ll need to wait. It would seem as though this lady here needs my attention quite desperately,” she said before turning to look at Ynhaldei. “Yes?” she looks at Ynhaldei, then beyond her to one Ashe Stormcrow as he dictated what sort of tempo the band would play at. Her look is an approving one.

Aira clung to the wall as her copper eyes trailed on all the people who were trickling into the fort. Despite her usual distaste of large crowds, Aira couldn’t help the small smirk that curved itself on her full lips. The more people, the stronger the distraction. With sylvan grace and a hunter’s swift movements, the high elf seemed to disappear among the crowd, tunneling deep within the fort. Having worn heels most of her life in Rynvale, she moved easily in them as if they were her usual boots, even trotting in a slow jog. It took a while, but eventually, Aira found the armory...and vacant at that! A victorious “ha!” escaped her lips and she quickly moved inside, slender fingers trailing along the different weapons. The bows...oh the bows! There were so many there that the elf thought she could stay there all night just admiring them. Settling on one that was made similarly to the one Kahn had given her, she quickly turned to leave, crashing full on into Gikal, the master blacksmith. Aira hitched on her best innocent smile as she hid the bow behind her back and batted those long lashes at the man. The man chuckled jovially and threw his arm around the high elf’s shoulders, “Perhaps we can come to some agreement…” Time passed and suddenly Aira reappeared at the ball, a small frown on her face, closely followed by Gikal. Copper eyes scan the room once more and spotted a table with Lanara and Linn, making haste towards them. She dropped her newly acquired bow and quiver of arrows in a vacant chair before turning to the pair. “I’ll be right back,” she grumbled before moving back to the grinning blacksmith who look her hand, drawing her to the dance floor. Aira didn’t look particularly pleased about the turn of events, but if a new bow and arrows meant dancing with Gikal she would oblige. Perhaps surprising, due to her tough exterior, Aira was a gifted dancer and glided along the floor elegantly, her gem-adorned dress glimmering brilliantly in the candlelight.

Ansel basically just had to do a quick shaving and had to toy with his hair a bit. He knew that Josleen took these occasions a little too seriously and he wanted to impress her… Which was why the tux appeared in play. How did he afford this? Let’s just say an old friend caught up to him. No, he did not know how to tie a bow tie. This was all in effort for Josleen, he did not think this through. “Quit whining and just help me, man.” Either way, Ansel looked very well cleaned up and, might the narrator say, handsome. He looked like he belonged in the rich crowd, like he owned his own ship. The suit fitted his lean figure and he had a charming smile to go with it as he escorted Josleen into the ball. Stunning, she was. As the men seat the two ladies and go to fetch drinks, he glances at Josleen before coughing slightly and then idly looking in different places until hazel eyes land on Lanara. He then looks her up and down before looking at the drinks that were being slid their way. “I had a feeling she would show up…” He trails. “Either way, she won’t be ruining anything – that’s in the past,” he then shoves two drinks into Hudson’s hands and takes two of Josleen’s and his and wanders back over to the table.

Kreekitaka had rushed to get here. This was, after all, a very important event. Important people from all over would be here and as such it was his duty as CEO to show up and ensure that he was recognized. Also, it'd be a great place to talk about new designs and unveil the opening of his store and the sharing of his people, and what better way to do that than to show up riding a massive sea scorpion? The gigantic arthropod was twenty feet long from its head to the tip of its upraised tail, its body covered by a thick, bright orange-and-white-striped fabric. Said blanket would be quite warm to the touch, as if it heated itself. Riding the scorpion was Kreekitaka himself, clad in a cape of swirling color and light—the trim and embroidery glowed brightly and the whole thing sparkled like the surface of the sea, colors rippling across it as it flowed when he moved, from a deep forest green to a royal purple, and everyone would see a slightly different color when they looked at it. Embroidered on it in blue light was the shape of an ancient sea creature of some sort—a trilobite, for those who know. When he arrived outside, he stepped lightly off the behemoth he was riding and handed the reins to a valet. “JusTAH! be HHHTHe boss,” he told the lad, as instructions for how to deal with it. “He respecks auHHHTHoriTAH!ee.” Being the boss of a twenty-foot oceangoing predatory arthropod whose four eyes are peering at you like you're closer to being lunch may prove a little challenging, but Kree was sure he could handle it. In the meantime, he stepped into the main palace area and slid his cape around to one shoulder, revealing a necklace decorated with sand-dollars and coral pieces, twin sashes of sparkling silver fabric and a yellow kilt decorated with a pattern of blue circles that glowed of their own accord. On his back was the holster for some kind of large weapon—probably ceremonial—and twin water tanks crafted from rainbow shells. Kreekitaka was here. And he was here to party.

Ynhaldei blinks a couple of times, "Oh right.. cool." she never thought the flurry of food intake would ever slow down.. but it did, it may not be something amazing, but it was a breathe taking sight nonetheless. "Hi Lady Larewen." she spoke to the other woman, she is blind, as much as she can tell, ofcourse she knew as her gestures are all wrong, just like her when she was just still learning. Turning back to Hildegarde as she asks, "I was wondering if you knew where is Orikahn. I heard about the party and brought a tuxedo with me, I was hoping to have him as my escort but I haven't seen him for the past couple of days."

Khitti finally decides to do something about her situation, though it's in the most passive way possible. She manages to stop one of the servants long enough for the vampiress to give him a message to pass on to Hildegarde. He'd approach the leader of the frozen lands, wait until acknowledged, and then give said message to her in hushed tones. The crowd was much too much for Khitti and she took her leave just as the servant was pointing in her direction, showing Hildegarde whom the message had come from. Neither Pilar nor Larewen was acknowledged, the vampiress escaping from the stifling din of the party.

Corinth smiles, grateful that the mysterious magic that brought him to this strange place has not sent him to unfriendly territory. With a deft movement, the avian snaps his wings wide, easily spanning ten feet from tip to tip, and says to Savio; "Well then, the least I can do is provide a bit of festivity for the good people of Frostmaw." Corinth then draws his magnificent blade and thrusts it into the air above him and after a quick chant in a mysterious language, it's tip shoots out a long procession of bright balls of white light that move to hover just under the ceiling, filling the air above the ball. With a slight giggle, he utters a short cantrip. The lights immediately shatter into splendous bursts of divine light.

Drileana seems to notice Phaedra's entrance rather quickly. Finally, a familiar face! Even so, the drowess isn't the type to scurry over and greet the vampire all giddily. Instead, the dark elf turns just enough to tip her snowy head in Phaedra's direction. "Evening," She begins, "It appears the garments you provided were quite...timely. To be perfectly honest, I considered wearing nothing...but, I had no desire to be physically removed the room. That would've been rather unfortunate." To state the obvious.

Linn chuckled at the thought, “I know she’s fine.” He could faintly tell that the cloak he had given her was darting around Frostmaw for one reason or another, never stopping. Whatever it was she was looking for something it seems. “It is good to see you out here though, at this rate we might have to dance with each other though!” He gave a soft laugh at the statement before it trailed off nervously. He never really danced before. He followed Lanara’s wandering gaze to catch the crowds that had come in, cocking a brow at Alvina’s appearance. The bard definitely didn’t seem a person to have a dress like *that*. His attention was again ripped to Aira who had dropped a new bow and set of arrows by them before she was off to dance with… the blacksmith. Just what had the hunter gotten herself into now? For now he was happy to converse with Lanara and eat some of the food, notably staying away from the alcohol of the party.

Xzavior gave a fanged grin, "Well, I'm glad someone agree's." and gave Artia a wink. Pulling his gave away from her, he gave a friendly smile to Pilar "Good to see you again, Pilar. I hope you are doing better."

Savio allowing Olivine to search for a dance partner, Savio moves around the room, watching Phaedra and a Drow discuss something he couldn't here over the noise of the gathering, he kept watching as he walked eventually finding a seat in the back of the room.

Larewen dipped her head in acknowledgment of Hildegarde's words, though she made no attempt to skirt away from near the dragon. It was safer to remain where she stood, and thus her magic was once more drawn inward as dark, sightless eyes roamed over those present. Then, Ynhaldei spoke and the elf's attention was drawn toward the greeting cast her way. Again, there was a faint upward twist of her lips and lift of her chin. "It has been some time, Ynhaldei," the elf replied before the other's concerns were voiced to the Silver.

Linn managed to catch the flash of a blade held into the air before Corinth's display of magic drew his attention around to yet another display, watching the globes of light float up into the air right up until they exploded, forcing him to wince as his eyes were suddenly overloaded. Perhaps it *wasnt* a good idea to stare directly into the light. Watching the show was worth it all things considered though.

Hildegarde had to refrain from frowning as Ynhaldei mentioned Orikahn. Did she not know? Did she not know that he was a traitor and wanted dead in the City of War? Hildegarde, usually quite peaceful, had said repeatedly that she had personally wanted to skin his pelt and tan his hide. “Orikahn committed treason and crimes against Frostmaw. I have waited for him to turn himself into my authority, yet no such luck. So I am due to set a bounty upon his head, unless someone can bring him to me alive.” Perhaps that was a hint for Ynhaldei to do so. As Hildegarde lapses into silence, the woman is approved by a humanoid servant who begins to whisper some kind of message in her ear. With a nod, the man goes about his business again as more guests arrive to the party. “Orikahn has fell foul of Frostmaw,” she said finally to Ynhaldei, doubting much could be done to repair the rift between them.

Phaedra beckons for Drileana to come join her, linking arms with the drow. " Indeed you look lovely.....You can be my date as it seems.....I don't actually have one!" Smiling she blushed slightly as it was embarrassing not to have a date to an event such as this. "Drileana dear.....I think we need drinks!"

The guards tense and some even shout with alarm as Corinth draws his blade. They keep their eyes upon him for now.

Lanara nibbles on a bite of cakelog, smiling to herself, and pleased that she actually was capable of smiling again! Losing Krystan was the worst feeling imaginable, and this was her first venture out of the cottage in well over a week. The air had done the witch some good though, as a faint blush from the cold had make her high cheekbones glow with a rosy tint. Content for the moment, she begins to choke as Linn mentions the aspect of dancing with her, and it takes her several moments to slow her coughing fit. Reaching for a glass of water, she peers up at the male, bewildered. “Da-Dance?” She stammers, as her cheeks redden a dark shade of crimson. Clearly, dancing was foreign to the elf, and the thought of making a fool of herself in a room full of others made her head spin.

Kreekitaka 's clothes shone all the more brightly in the splendor of the beams of light. He moved directly over to the buffet table or place where there was food and proceeded to find some alcohol to dump into his tank. Celebration night, right? Now all that was missing was a good fight or three. Or seven.

Savio after getting a drink he moves about until accidently bumping into the drow. "I am very sorry, sorry." He tried drying himself off with a napkin from his drink which most had spilled onto him.

Ashe laughed audibly and raised his voice over the music to say what the guards left unsaid “Please refrain from any magical-- or mundane-- explosives within the ballroom ladies and gentlemen. We don't want any tragical misunderstandings. If you need an outlet for your excitement feel free to dance or sing along!” his voice carried rather well despite the crowd and somewhat unfortunate acoustics. He even managed to time his short 'announcement' on behalf of his patron in a lull in the music before the melody rose again, merry and insistent as ever.

Hudson lifts his chin in Lanara's direction since she's caught him looking over there, and he waves at her, his hand closing in a thumbs-up at her. You look great! he mouths at her, before looking back at Ansel, who is being such a wet blanket right now. "Dude, that is not why I pointed her out," says Huds, and the men carry the drinks back to the women. Everyone awkwardly drinks their rose and exchanges Basic Comments about the other attendees. Yes, everyone's very glamorous. Wow, what a beautiful setting. Alvina looks less than at ease in the dress he'd selected for her - which is maybe why she shouldn't have let him do that - she's almost shrinking against Josleen basically. Hudson drops his hand to the small of her back and kisses her on the side of the head. "You look super sexy, stop looking nervous," he tells her, shooting a dirty look at a guy who's he's never seen before who is also taking the moment to admire Alvina. Apparently it's that simple! "Did you want to dance or something?" That seems like something women want to do, also, he's feeling the shots they took and would actually like to make some moves out on the floor. "I took lessons, when I was a kid. Come on." A bit more cajoling here and there. And so Hudson dances a B- waltz with Alvina, and in so doing realizes that they would have to take very tiny steps, because her movement was constrained by The Dress. Oops. At least she wouldn't trip on it. While they're dancing, he spies Eleanor, and makes bug-eyes at her from across the room. What, he mouths, while they're turning, Are you doing here?!

Pilar gave Xzavior a slightly strained smile. She wasn't sure what the relationship between him and Artia was, but they seemed close, and she worried that he had captured her affections. "I am doing okay, thank you."

Artia waved at her sister! "Phaedra!" Grabbing herself a cinnamon schnapps, looking to her two friends, "Come on, you got to meet my sister!" Moving quickly over to her big sister jerking her into a hug, "Phaedra, these are my friends Pilar and Xzavior! " Looking between the two, "This s my half sister Phaedra, we have matching birth marks. "Pointing to her collar bone and than to Phaedra's revealing a frog foot shaped birth mark.

Linn couldn’t help the warm smile that came across him with Lanara’s own. It was good to know that she could at least find some happiness, hopefully not forced. When the witch began choking he lightened his hug until she finished her coughing fit, drawing her back in with a laugh when she stammered out the idea of dancing. “Okay, I’m not the only one who has no idea what they’d be doing.” He gave her an affectionate squeeze before continuing, “If you *really* don’t want to do it then we can just sit here and talk a bit. I just figured it would be a little fun, we could put on quite the display I think.” He gave a small turn of one of Lanara’s bangles to bring on a bout of sparkling while showing a wave of his own arm, the glow around it trailing like a weighted flame. It really would be quite a light-show if they could figure out how to roll with it.

Ynhaldei does not live in Frostmaw. So most news about the land is nothing but obscure to her knowledge. What did he do this time she wonder. She simply stared at her for a couple of seconds. "I... hmm... well if you are expecting me to bring him to you, basically against his will, then that's not going to happen." She has always been blunt and honest in every way and doubts she would ever change. "I haven't seen him in days... He is always up here, in your land. I don't know what he did but he had been loyal to his job as much as I can tell." She puts down her plate aside and takes one of Hilde's cake roll from her plate, savagely biting it. "If a man's life is to be easily denied due to one mistake and after all the good deeds he did..." then paused. "This cake is good by the way." swallowing hard. "Miss Larewen, I think we'll see each other next time, I feel I already overstayed my welcome." she returns the roll onto Hilde's plate before taking a bottle of liquor and moving toward the exit of the hall.

Aira :: After several more theatrical spins and a dramatic dip that caught Aira off guard, Gikal smiled and bowed politely to the high elf once their dance was done. Despite how ridiculous she felt and the rosey color of her high cheekbones, she managed a curtsy back to the man. “Enjoy the bow,” he added with a wink before taking his leave. Aira coughed and cast her metallic gaze around the room once more, daring anyone to comment on her dancing. Smoothing out her bejeweled dress, the hunter quickly scurried back over to the table where Linn and Lanara sat, sliding into a seat and crossing her long legs. Slender fingers reached out to her new bow and she smiled contently. Granted, getting caught stealing wasn’t in the plans, but at least she had her weapon back, one that she was most proficient with. “Evening, you two,” she finally adds to her fellow elf and the enchanter.

Hildegarde offered Ynhaldei a most gracious smile as the little elf took some cakelog from her plate. Men had been killed over lesser things by other men, but Hilde had the virtue of patience. “I would not characterise his betrayal as a mistake, my lady. When you knowingly betray people and endanger others for a force of evil, it is hardly a mistake. I sincerely hope that Orikahn has suffered from a temporary madness, but we shall see, won’t we?” she smiled kindly, before placing her plate down once Ynhaldei had returned the bitten cakelog to the plate. “I know they say dragons eat anything, but I for one have never enjoyed saliva as a seasoning,” she remarked to Larewen as Ynhaldei took her leave of her presence. “Pray excuse me, my lady,” she said to Larewen, making her way over to Ashe to whisper something in the bard’s ear.

Drileana allows her arm to be linked with Phaedra's own, though not before someone bumps into her. The dark elf's head turns just enough to get a clear sight of the accidental offender: Savio, it appears, a vaguely familiar face she has seen in passing. She neither accepts nor denies his apology, however, simply turning her attention back to Phaedra rather promptly. "I'm afraid I've never been to a gathering such as this...it's a bit...overwhelming, in a way."

Pilar followed dutifully along behind Artia, leaving the drink table behind her. She wasn't thirsty... well, she was, just not for alcohol. She observed the birth marks curiously before giving Phaedra a curtsy, the best she could manage with her injuries. "Nice to meet you." She also gives a curtsy to the drow in Phaedra's company. "Hello."

Larewen appeared perplexed as she listened to the exchange between dragon and desert elf. The tone of Hildegarde's voice in particular gave cause for a dark brow to raise upward. Her head tilted to the side, a frown finally touching her lips. Larewen was oblivious to the actions that followed next, and perhaps fortunately so - she'd never dare snatching a cake log from the Silver's plate. She simply knew better! That, and the food of the living hardly appealed to her. It would not be until after the desert elf had gone that the necromancer would pose an inquiry to Hildegarde. Only by that moment, the Silver had requested to be excused and was no longer beside the necromancer. The elf's frustration crept into her pale features and her mouth, having parted in preparation for words, abruptly shut - though not before loosing a soft sigh.

Phaedra offers the two with her sister a fanged smile as she is held in Artia's arms. "Missed me have you?" Leaning closer to Artia, she places a kiss upon her sisters cheek. "Sister this is Drileana....." Running her indigo hues over the naga and the other female, she offers them both a curious smile. Wondering if they were just friends of her sister, but she was sure she would find out. "Drinks please.....I do believe I'm parche." A soft laugh escaped her full lips as she ran a pale hand through that crimson hair of hers.

Xzavior felt a slight tension from Pilar but did his best to ignore it, He didn't want to start any trouble on a night like this at the mention of the newcomer Xzavior's face lit in recognition, "Phaedra? I believe we've met briefly haven't we?" seeing the birthmark shared between the two he chuckled, "Small world isn't it?"

Encinal was going to the ball! But what would he wear? Encinal had enough encounters in Frostmaw to know that it was going to be cold for the druid and something more formal would be needed. The basic druid’s cloak was replaced by a shimmering-snow white cape, fastened with gold links. To match the heavy cloak, was a simple baggy, white dress shirt tucked neatly into a pair of flowing harem pants. The pants of his legs were tucked into a pair of fur lined boots, despite the modest nature of his dress, it was clear that the elegant male was anything but. The pale half-elf stepped into the Yule Ball with the hood of his cloak pulled up, those warm blue eyes roaming through the crowd as he slowly stepped around, hoping to spot someone he knew available for chat instead of just crashing someone’s party. As he walked, the cloak flowed behind him, the light of the room causing the cloth to change colors, dancing with hues of purple and blue.

Lanara laughs at Linn’s enthusiastic demeanor about desiring a dance, and nips her lower lip. What could it hurt? Maybe making a fool of themselves –would- be fun! Most were rather uppity and proper, and though she appeared to be the perfect display of a lady this evening, she was a true tomboy at heart. So with that, she’s about to rise to her feet, and offer her best male friend a dance, when Aira slides into a seat at their table. The welcome distraction of the platinum blonde is given, as Lana wraps a slender arm around the high elf’s shoulders, and gives her a quick hug. “Aira! You look radiant, this evening! And I saw you dancing! Where did you learn to move like that? It was… Wow!” A wink was given to Hudson as the male offers her a compliment, as Linn toys with her shimmering bangles, the witch meeting his grey gaze with a half-smile. Ashe was a wonderful bard, it seemed, as Lana was unknowingly rocking from side to side, in beat to the music.

Ynhaldei stops as the woman spoke, turning around as she said, "Then I might aswell join him eh? He did it for a reason, he believe that reason is what would satisfy him in a way. If he think he did it for that reason, then there is no point thinking how others would react to it." she didn't know if the woman heard that or not but clearly having this much visitors would make the host a bit busy, she shook her head and simply opened the bottle of liquor that she took, started chugging quietly from where she stood. Too annoyed right now.

Alvina almost trips over Josleen when she stops to point out Lanara. Dang! Everyone was so fancy. Kill me now please. Alvina took this moment to step in front of Josleen, like she was going to be protecting her before remembering that things had been mostly smoothed out between Jos and Lanara. But what would a festive and fancy ball be without some inappropriately dressed individuals and a little bit of drama? Well not a good party at all, Alvina supposed, shaking her head in very obvious regret. The shawl was her one saving grace. Spare me oh righteous party gods!! There's Hudson and Ansel, bringing back drinking, promising her she doesn't look questionable and Hudson's asking her to dance. She flushes slightly and lets him lead her to the dance floor only so she can curse her dress more. How are you even suppose to move in this!? While her soft anger flares and is directed internally, she gets a chance to see Hudson eyeballing Eleanor or sharing some secret mouthing words code. What the heck?! "Hudson..." she says, more of a treat than a question, low in her throat and glaring slightly. "Do not tell me I put on this dress so you could flirt with other women." So complicated...the Engineer just wanted a glamour evening of dancing, drinking and socializing! She looks back to see Josleen and Ansel and smiles. Alvina didn't care what anyone said, they were adorable together.

Phaedra offers the naga a fanged smile and of course a cheeky wink. "Yes Xzavior isn't it? And indeed darling it is a very small world!" Looking at the female who seemed a little out of place, she would give her a wink too. "Pillar.....that's your name isn't it?" Phaedra waited patiently, all these people were actually blowing her mind, she hadn't seen as many folk as she saw right now in this place. "Wonderful atmosphere isn't it....." It would seem when she spoke it was to everyone in the growing group.

Linn was about to get up with Lanara as well before before Aira as she set down next to him and Lanara, drawing a smile and a nod. “Evening. I see you have a bow to shoot Kahn again now.” His smile grew to a grin, “I expect no one else to do it before you do." With the hug between the two elves he raised his brows slightly, unaware that the two really knew each other. Well, he’d let them have their moment, offering a complement of his own, “Better than I’d ever be able to make it look.” He finished with a self-depreciating chuckle, hoping that his own way of putting things wasn’t lost on the hunter.

Ashe chuckled, fully audibly, in response to the far classier whisper. Not even a stage whisper. The steward was far too serious. Drawing out the finish of the song in a excessively dramatic fashion and rising volume, Ashe rose to stand on his chair like a pirate captain in the stern of his ship on a painting. “Ladies and gentlemen! As an unannounced special treat, there is in fact a prize awaiting the most fantastically dressed among us! Seeing as I, myself, am not in the running you might even stand a chance! All who wish to participate please gather in the center of the dance floor! All who are indifferent or would prefer not to bother please gather in the center of the dance floor! And anyone who absolutely gods-defying come hell or high water do NOT want to participate? Kindly sit on it and gather in the center of the dance floor!” and he pointed domineeringly at the thrice-mentioned dance floor.

Savio returning to a table Savio hopes despite all odds either he or some female may take notice of him, but he doubts this highly. Taking a cup from the banquet table he gags slightly, drawing a a bottle of red wine from his mouth, he did this when he thought no one was watching, if they found out that would mean studying him and that was embarrsing. Wiping the bottle down he unplugged the cork and poured some red wine in a glass.

Kreekitaka felt this was obviously his contest to win and stepped swiftly and purposefully into the middle of the room, planting himself firmly in place and taking a bite out of one of the fish or other meaty things available at the table, just to make sure he was securely in position. He looked up at Ashe as if he were daring him to vote someone else--because really, who else could it be but the being in the color-changing cloak and glowing kilt?

Lanara literally drops her arm from around Aira, and quickly rises to her feet. “Excuse me…” She mutters to Linn and Aira, as she makes her way to the center of the dance floor, her shawl shifting from green to navy blue as she stands in the middle of the room. A contest for best dressed?! Surely, she had won! Smiling up at Ashe, she awaits for the rest of the would-be contestants to join her at her spot, and sways from side to side in her floor length evening gown. As she sways, each embroidered snowflake sparkles beneath the icicle lights, making the woman appear as though she were a princess from an ice cavern, in the flesh, at the Yule Ball.

Drileana tips her head in a simple greeting to the others Phaedra is apparently familiar with, turning her eyes to each of them to commit their faces to memory. "I'm not particularly thirsty..." She remarks to the vampire, "...But if you insist, I might indulge in a simple glass of wine. I'm not certain how long I'll linger here, however."

Savio takes a sip of the red wine watching the dance about to start, he really wish he hadn't learn to dance in that extreme north country, because the dances here he assumed would be different style completely.

Linn started at Ashe’s announcement of having a contest of who was the most fantastically dressed before glancing between both Lanara and Aira with a knowing look. “I think you two stand a good chance at winning that contest.” He cracked a grin as he made his statement before looking down at his own outfit, catching the bright threads that punctuated the matte black felt. “I might as well see how this crazy outfit would run in the standings as well. Should we all go over together?” He got up, inviting the two elves to do the same with an inviting look. “Would be fun to see if any of us make it don’t you think?” He barely finished before Lanara was off to be a part of it, prompting a laugh. “Well, if you want to come join us!” And with that he ran off himself, letting the otherworldly glow swirl and trail around his movements before giving a turn at the end of his movement on the dance floor, crashing through the flowing light and scattering it like a cloud of dust.

Ashe cracked an especially charming wink and knowing smirk back at Lanara

Artia heard of thr besr dreased contest and hurried to stand in for the contest, midnight blue gorgeous floral lace gown for the evening. The dress was covered in lace from her chest down. Fitting her hourglass shape better then any of her gowns as this one had been custom for her by a seamstress in Larket, this fit and flare dress embodies classic elegance. Sleeveless bodice with a boatneck front and deep V-back add a touch of sultry sophistication. A voluminous flared lace skirt added for the perfect amonunt of drama and easy movement. Along the dress sparkled sapphires stitched in. Each time she moved, the dress seemed to move like the ocean, adding to her graceful steps. Three inches from the bottom of the dress down, was enchanted to look like a starry night, stars twinkling constantly. The druidic Witch's hair was curled, adding to the curves of the female. Sapphires clipped throughout the curls, wide hips swayed side to side as she moved, glass heels was the style for her feet this evening. Catching the majestic of the enchanted stars her shoes even sparkled, she stood a tall five foot ten with the heels. "Excuse me I'm here to enter for the contest. " Waving her hands at her friends, fingers crossed.

Aira gave Lanara a rare smile as she leaned into the side hug and flushed a deeper shade of crimson when she gives the hunter a compliment. Aira simply shakes her head, dismissing her kind words. “Not nearly as beautiful as you look, you are truly a sight to behold.” Linn’s compliment is granted a small chuckle and a slight bow. “It’s just an old dress from back home.” When Lanara questioned her dancing abilities she full out laughed, very unexpected from the normally stoic hunter. “When you grow up in a noble house you learn how to dance at a young age. I wasn’t planning on it but Gikal caught me stealing the bow,” she speaks quickly before clearing her throat. At the mention of a contest Lanara is on her feet and already gone causing the hunter to shake her head. She turned to speak with Linn and saw him off and running as loud. Rolling her copper eyes she stood from her seat and grabbed her bow and quiver (lest someone sneak off with them!) and joined the two on the dance floor.

Josleen waves Alvina off to dance with an encouraging smile to calm her nerves. Once the other couple has left, Josleen turns her attention to Ansel, gossips a little about mutual friends from the clinic in attendance, then drops all the hints that she wants to dance too: chair-dance-wiggling, looking at the dancefloor frequently, commenting that every song is her favorite. Hopefully Ansel can take a hint and ask her to dance. Whether he dances or not, the dancing won’t be for very long initially, because Josleen, ever the social butterfly, needs to do the rounds, and asks Ansel to accompany her. On the list of people she must greet: Hildegarde, Linn, Pilar, Larewen, and Mikael. As she finalizes her sweep of the ballroom she finds none other than Kreekitaka! Her jaw drops and she looks at Ansel wide-eyed to see if he recognizes the crab. It’s Kreekitaka, she informs him, the Hollow-renowned eccentric fashion designer! (The Donatella Versace of Hollow!) A non-war related celebrity, right here in Frostmaw! Josleen heart races as she avoids the celebrity’s line of sight and scuttles over to Alvina and Hudson to share the star-studded news with Alvina. However, Alvina’s mood is not to be missed, and Josleen follows the glared daggers at Eleanor. Although the bard doesn’t know who Eleanor is, it doesn’t matter. Eleanor is now persona non grata as Josleen is on Team Alvina. She resumes her dancing and enjoys her time with Ansel in public, but occasionally throws critical glances to Eleanor and Hudson.

Larewen remained where she stood, mostly because she didn't want to fall on her face. She was too much of a lady for that sort of clumsiness. Though, her head did turn toward the hall's entrance, as if the necromancer was contemplating departure. She had hoped to see Emrith, after all.

Phaedra quickly grabs them all a drink, giving everyone around her a glass. "To friends of many different races.....I truly love you all! Let's drink to that." Putting her glass to those full lips, she took a drink her hips begin to move as she hears music worth dancing too.

Pilar only nodded in response to Phaedra's question. When Ashe called for everyone to get into the dance floor, she stayed right where she was as Artia ran off. She offered a wave back, sighing. Artia surely would win.

Eleanor was not here to stir up any trouble with Hudson, and in fact, when they met eyes across the ballroom, she dipped her head in a nod. His mouthed words inspired a smirk from the spell blade, and all she did in reply was shrug, before pivoting away. She certainly didn't want him to think she was here because of him; she was a business woman, after all, and there were so many pockets just waiting to be a little emptier. Without a word, the woman ducked around the table piled high with food, disappearing into the crowd.

Emelyan made a quiet appearance, wearing a mask that let his orange eyes peer at the gathered crowd. He wasn't too terribly fashionably dressed, wearing his usual trenchcoat. It seemed he was here to observe quietly, sipping from something hot that smelled of cinnamon and apples, and alcohol. He spoke to none, and scowled incessantly... but for some reason, he was here.

Lanara practically hops up and down in her stunning attire, eager to be at her very first ball, -and- to be in a contest for best dressed, as well! As Ashe catches her gaze and gives her a wink, she returns the smile, though feels her face begin to heat with a faint blush. A sidelong glance was given to all of those on either side of her, as she knew the competition was going to be tough.

Hildegarde said, "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the deliberation and prize giving? A simple 'aye!' will do!"

Alvina listens to Josleen's new with batted breath. A real life fashion designer!? What are the chances? "Do you think he could make this dress less embarrassing?" she laughed, right when Ashe calls for everyone to shuffle in the middle of the dance floor. Gods no. "Jos, you have to come with me...I can't go alone..." She almost whines as she takes Josleen's arm and makes good use of the more beautiful shield, pushing herself to the back of the bodies on display. "Please don't let Hildegarde see me..." she whiskers to herself, averting her gaze to the floor.

Lanara said, "Aye!!!"

Artia whispered something to Lanara.

Artia said, "Aye!"

Xzavior said, "Aye!"

Linn came to attention at Hildegarde's announcement before calling out an "Aye!" of his own, the curiosity of who would win such a prize eating at him. There were a *lot* of good candidates here.

Aira said, "Aye!"

Kreekitaka glanced around. Hm. Linn was wearing quite the outfit... and the women were dressed up. He flared his paddles up a little bit and drew his cape more around his shoulder, to show off a little more of the fabric that slowly rippled from green to purple and back again. He didn't, unfortunately, notice Josleen fangirling over there.

Kreekitaka said, "Aye!"

Alvina whispers, "Aye"

Josleen said, "aye!"

Pilar said absolutely nothing.

Encinal me scratches his head, raising a brow as he stood there confused, "Aye?"

Ynhaldei was too busy drinking to say anything.

Ashe remained where he was. Using the fact that the music had stopped to apply further preassure onto anyone still trying to chicken out. He leaned somewhat on his violin that, in turn, braced against his raised knee. "I can see you from up here, you know. Even if you don't gather with the others we'll still judge you in the contest. It really depends on how embarrasing you want this story to be." and with that rather... ominous statement he swung his bow around in one and and then pointed over to Hildegarde, "I leave the rest in the capable hands of our stunning lady steward." and finished with a quick tip of an invisible hat to their somewhat extra special guest, the fabulous crab man.

Hudson said, "Aye!"

Rainbow finally showed up, having curiously not shown up with Kree despite the two of them having been pretty much inseperable for the past while, despite being the sort of pair that absolutely hates the very nature of the other's existence. Then again, one could be forgiven for not noticing this, as the two of them had been engaged in something like an extended game of relationship chicken, which is due to escalate soon, meaning that at this point one of them is probably considering starting with the flirting stage of things. Not her. Probably. She's not interested in going any further, really she isn't. Nope. Anyway, moving on from the pixie lass' totally non-romantic entanglements with a seven-foot-tall lobster-man, she shows up in the party hall with much pomp and circumstance, dressed in a rather interesting combination of fabrics that she'd put together from the cloth she'd been given by aforementioned lobster mand that she DEFINITELY DOESN'T LIKE, THANK YOU, consisting of a dress, just short enough to be mildly improper, that shifts in both color and texture as she moves, giving it an air like it was made of some kind of multicolored fluid, its lifted him revealing a pair of inky black stockings that end in rather normal stilletto-heeled boots, the stockings themselves almost seeming ephemeral despite their opacity. Their counterparts on her arms and hands are a little different, a brighter cloth that blends into the fabric of her proper dress, veins of luminous blue brightening and fading in tune with her pulse. All of this was centered along a design of keys, of all things, though it's not always visible, occasionally surfacing throughout the dress, moving and shifting as always. Over the dress itself she also wears a bandolier of tough leather, tooled with the same markings, though these are static, with nine bell-shaped pockets, though none are filled at this time. The bandolier itself is richly decorated and embroidered, and as much a status symbol as anything, though she somehow doubts that anyone here will recognize it. Of course, the most noticable thing about her dress is probably not these, as they are understandably quite small, but the normal-sized, though absolutely ENORMOUS for a pixie, blue rose that perches atop her head. She'd shortened the stem and woven it through her hair to keep it straight, and the flower itself is almost as large as the poor thing's entire upper body, though she seems to carry it quite well, almost like a crown atop her tiny head. She comes in riding Priscilla, the dragon that she'd gotten from the aforementioned lobster-man that she ABSOLUTELY DESPISES, DON'T FORGET THAT, the little ice wyvern all prettied up and set up for riding, the perfect size for such a tiny occupant. She'd notice Kree, taken aback by his... Particular sense of fashion. ... "... Not bad."

Hildegarde offered a most gracious dip of her head in the direction of Ashe, “Why, how generous of you, Stormcrow!” she retorted with an amused grin, hoping that the business of the event will let him assume the blush of colour in her cheeks is merely due to the many bodies in the fort rather than any embarrassment she held at being called ‘stunning’. Hildegarde casts her sole eye around the fort, briefly scanning dresses, suits, kilts, robes, all of it! “All of you are so beautiful this evening that it is truly difficult for me to decide! But beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder. So it is fitting I have only one eye, right?” she grinned, eliciting a little chortle from the giants who guarded the hall. “Now… I think I know who I ought to give our prize to! Drum roll, if you please,” she needn’t look back at the band or bard, she is confident they will begin the drum roll to incite the anticipation. Hildegarde’s heeled boots clack across the floor as she begins to move, accepting a velvety pillow from a giant who briefly kneeled before her. Evidently, the prize rested upon that pillow. “I name you the Queen of Love and Beauty,” she said sweetly and earnestly, “for no heart is as sweet nor as accepting as yours. You wear your beauty on your face and your love in the deeds you do every day, Lady Alvina,” she said as she took the blue iron laurel from the pillow and so very gently set it upon Alvina’s head to dub her the winner. “But who is a Queen without a King?” Historically, better. But we can’t forget the guys! To the veritable Kreekitka, Hildegarde wanders over to. “And to you, the undisputable master of fashion,” who she only knew of thanks to Josleen, “you are dubbed the King of Love and Beauty!” she said, reaching out to offer the blue iron laurel as she wouldn’t want to possibly… crush his crustacean head.

Ansel shakes his head in a ‘whatever’ way at Hudson. So, things were still tense between him and Lanara and he would prefer not to talk to her or even really acknowledge her. They were both stubborn. Also, Ansel was very unaware about what had happened to Krystan. Anyway, he continues to be selfish and gossip with Josleen, doing the whole flirty looks towards her and whispering stuff into her ear making her laugh. Also, he does ask Josleen to dance. He catches her hints, and after all, he was not too bad of a dancer. He would then stand, reach for her hand and lead her to the floor as he acknowledges a few patrons. Placing a hand on the small of her back, holding her hand in his other.

Drileana , it seems, is somewhat unfamiliar with this form of dancing. Most dancing in the realm of dark elves was a fair bit more...exotic, to say the least, when it even existed. Still, her body goes into something of a simple sway. However, she's interrupted slightly by Savio's whispering into her ear. Stopping her movement on a dime, Drileana presses a hand palm first into the man's chest, affording some space between them once more. She cuts him a certain look - one that tells him to respect her personal space, only without the need for a verbal command. With that done, she sets her body back into motion.

Kreekitaka turned at the sound of -that voice again- and--oh. Hey! She was using his fabric! And wearing a... giant, rather ungainly-looking flower on her head. ...Huh. At least she matched the dragon, kinda. He offered her a light bow in greeting. "You have impeccabo TAH!aysTAH!," he said to her with just a light touch of amusement--sarcasm? "You mayDAH! use of my fabric raHHHTHer quickyee."

Pilar was starting to really hurt, now, and sat down at the nearest chair. She would have loved to go to Artia's side and dance with her, but she was too tired and too sore. When the winners are announced, she applauds politely, even though Hildegarde's missing eye CLEARLY made it hard for her to see the true Queen of Love and Beauty.

Linn 's mouth hung open for a second as Alvina was dubbed the fashion queen of the ball with her truly out of place dress. Slowly, ever so slowly it curled into a grin that went ear-to-ear. The enchanter couldn't even be mad at the statement. Kreekitaka's title as the king of fashion was met with perfect acceptance. That crazy crab managed to thoroughly impress him with the appearance of an outfit for the first time ever. Guy deserved it.

Alvina listens to Hildegarde, feeling safe and secluded behind the many fluffy dresses and bodies twirling in front of her. Just as she closes her eyes in a sigh of relief, she sees the Stewardess walking towards her with a blue Laurel. Gods no. NONONONONO. "Jos!" she hissed, trying to stay behind her but finding herself in center spotlight dressed in this poor excuse for a dress being complimented by her boss!! Her pale features were on fire; a bright crimson to rival her hair as she did her best to bow as she received the honor. No words can pass her lips.

Larewen must have gotten lost, for it isn't long before the blind necromancer wandered back into the banquet hall, just after the queen and king of the ball were announced. In fact, she appeared perplexed.

Lanara smiles faintly as the winners are announced, somewhat bummed that she wasn’t chosen as the winner, though she was very pleased that Kree and Alvina were dubbed the King and Queen of the Yule Ball. Clapping her hands, she nods and mouths a ‘congrats’ to the duo, over the sound of the others cheering and clapping. As the noise dies down, she turns her slender back to the crowd and bows her head, as she retreats to a far corner of the room, desiring solitude. The urge to flee the ball was too great, and she knew that if she returned to her prior table at this second she would just dissolve into tears, and she didn’t want either. So for now, she merely rests her spine against a wall, in the most shadowed part of the room, frowning. It wasn’t that she was upset about losing the contest, no, it was something that Hildegarde had said that had struck a chord. What is a Queen without her King? “Nothing…” She softly murmurs aloud, as she clutches a hand to her chest and vows not to weep over the loss of her beloved.

Hudson is in trouble and flushes when Alvina accuses him of flirting with Eleanor. "Er, no, I know her, she's a friend, I can introduce you," he is quick to excuse himself. When he looks in Eleanor's direction again, she's vanished. Fortunately he's saved from having to further explain himself because Ashe has made his announcement, and somehow Josleen has appeared and formed an Eleanor-hate support group with his girlfriend. When did that happen? And who the heck is Kreekitaka? He exchanges a look with Ansel that's like, ????? They find themselves herding everyone into the center of the dance floor, where all the ladies shift their weight uncomfortably from one heel to the other and all the men simply exist in more or less a state of reasonable comfort. Nobody's looking at anybody but Hildegarde, seeing as she's launched into a speech, so Hudson seizes the opportunity to squeeze Alvina's backside. He shoots her a look of calculated innocence. Of course, this little caper is not as secret as he'd thought it would be. Suddenly Hildegarde is approaching them, and he breaks apart from Alvina, nudging her forward to watch as she receives the award. He elbows Ansel rather aggressively. "Dude," he says. He is frozen in place, waiting for something to happen. Is his girl going to dance with the lobster man......????? Can't even be jealous about that. He pretends to cough to cover up sudden laughter.

Kreekitaka accepted the laurel with a gracious bow and donned it... uh... there, tucking it behind his eyes and almost wearing it around his neck. "Many HHHTHanks, sTAH!ewarDAH! ITAH! is an honor TAH!oo receive HHHTHis." He stood up tall and held up his arms and decided to use this time to make his announcement. "An' TAH!oo everyone HHHTHis nighTAH!--I have marveyous news! My sTAH!ore," he paused for dramatic effect, "is now fuhyee open, wiHHHTH a compyeeTAH! sTAH!ock of wares! You can AH parTAH!ake in me DAH!esigns." He would have beamed at everyone if he'd, you know, had lips. And teeth. The most he could do was clench his facial crushers at everyone. It's a start.

Josleen takes both of Alvina’s hands when the redhead is announced as the winner and starts bouncing on the balls of her feet with her and shrieking excitedly. “Oh my gods! Alvina you won!” She, along with Hudson, pushes Alvina forward. She gives her a double thumbs up. The bard is not the lead bit jealous, until Hildegarde announces that the king is Kreekitaka and Alvina will now dance with him. Wow. A slight twinge of envy plucks at Josleen’s green heart as Alvina rubs elbow (claws?) with Hollow elite. Her once genuine smile now fails to reach her eyes. Hudson’s expression lacks the deference Josleen deems necessary and she leans into him to whisper, “That’s Kreekitaka.”

Artia placed a kiss to Frost's cheek as he came over. Then hugged her sister again, she didn't know what to do knowing she had actual family. Hearing the announcement she clapped her hand s for the two, agreeing with Hilde everyone looked amazing this night. Her feelings not hurt at the winner, but offered Lanara a wink. Mouthing to her 'you are second place.' Smiling still she whispered to Xzavior, before going to grasp Pilar's hand. Turning she saw Pillar had left the dance, frowning she mouthed 'you okay?'.

Ashe applauded with everyone else. Because they did applaud, yes? If not, perhaps he was the only one with a decent bone in his body. Soon, though, he stole the word back from Hildegarde with a quickly growing grin on his face. “A King and a Queen! But of course!” he made a hard to read gesture at the band behind him. Who simply looked confused. Ashe then had to turn and stage whisper something to his would-be-side-kicks. Yet low enough to not be heard in the crowded hall. “Well then! It is only appropriate that our newly crowned lord and lady grace the Dance-floor as the first couple...” he omitted calling everyone else cowards for not dancing until now “Together! Maestro, if you please!” never mind that he, if anyone, was the maestro. And from that point on, the band would strike up a song. … Of course, the song would be stuck on the same few notes and loop over and over until the two actually started dancing. At which point the song would mercilessly continue on.

Linn breathed a small sigh as the contest died down and people began dispersing, deciding to let the glow fade from the red spider-threads running across his outfit as they faded to a dark crimson against the black felt. Finding Lanara excusing herself from the crowd he slipped out as well to follow her, his appearance much less conspicuous now without the ghostly light following him. He took to the wall on the other side of the corner to see the witch, becoming a little downcast as he shared in her pain. He didn’t know exactly what had brought it on, but he knew it from consoling Talyara through the loss of Ayras. He stood there with the witch, silently allowing her to come to him if she wished. He would be there for her, but he wouldn’t intrude.

Pilar forced a smile to her face when she caught Artia looking at her. No, she wasn't really okay. She was in pain, she was tired, and the woman she liked was getting cozy with her apprentice. But she knew all of those things were inevitable, so she wouldn't complain.

Alvina approaches Kreekitaka with her face still a steady lobster red (convenient), still tugging down the hem of her impossibly short dress for them to go about doing the bidding of the crowd and have the first dance. In between, she catches Hudson laughing hysterically in the background and notices Jos' less than genuine smile. This was the guy Jos was telling her about. What was Alvina supposed to do?!?! Maybe after the dance, she could introduce Josleen? Would that be strange? "I-It's an honor," the bard says, while the two move to take their place on the dance floor. She follows through with the proper dance motions albeit in shorter steps and a plastered nervous smile on her face.

Aira lofted light brows as the winners are announced. Wasn’t that the prey...ahem...girl Aira was supposed to teach how to hunt? Copper eyes move to Lanara as she made her way from the dancefloor, hiding in the shadows and clutching her hand to her chest. Aira’s full lips twisted in a frown as her sadness permeated off of her stunning form. The high elf is about to go comfort her when she is being shepherded from the dance floor; however, she breathed out a sigh of relief as she saw Linn follow. For now, Aira stood to the side, doubling up her grip on her bow as she slipped the quiver of arrows on her back.

Kreekitaka looked over at Alvina and tilted his head, then nodded with a light bow. "Yikewise." He literally had two left feet, though he was skilled in the dances of his own people. Aaaaadmittedly the dances of his own people involved punches. Unsure of whether they would be doing human dances or his dances, he brought up a claw into a defensive position and drew back the other one, hesitantly--was he supposed to punch her? He was pretty sure he could punch her, right? That's how this works?

Corinth flashes back into physical existence to find himself just off from the door of the main room where he had been standing before the spell. One would think that being disassembled into rays of light to bounce around a ballroom and then reassimalating back into corporeal form would be uncomfortable, but it is truly a pleasent exerience. Realizing that everyones attention is focused away from him, he discreetly makes an unnoticed exit.

Ynhaldei is still annoyed and yet she already have two bottles done, with her drinking alone. Already opening the third one as she can't believe these festivities continuous to happen before her. She wanted to destroy the party, then again her reason is too shallow for her to allow. More annoyingly, her drink tastes like water. Not that because it has too much ice or anything, its just that her body is used to living in the desert, where water is scarce and basically, forced her body to evolve into accepting nearly any type of liquid as 'water' causing her to lose the ability to get drunkHildegardesober or tipsy. They are all water to her even how strong it is.

Larewen sighed, admitting defeat to her attempt to leave, and instead she finally inhaled the scents of those gathered. Why she had not done that before was beyond her, but with that inward draw of air and the flair of her nostrils, the necromancer picked up on Pilar's presence within the ballroom. Slowly, carefully, the elf began to make her way toward the fledgling.

Rainbow looks at the dancefloor for a little bit before going even more silent than usual and flying over to the area where all the food and... okay where all the -drink and food- is kept, fine, Rainbow, finding herself a smallish glass only about the size of her head and starting to drink as much alcohol as she can get her hands on. This... is likely not healthy, but whatever.

Lanara swallows hard, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, though she glances upwards and tries to blink them away. Not wanting to ruin her makeup, she sniffles, and turns her back to the crowd. Resting her forehead against the wall, she softly whispers to herself, repeatedly. “Krystan is dead, and he would want you to move on with your life. It hurts, but it will get better in time. The heart will mend, just have faith.” The mantra seems to console the witch, even if only enough for her to push off the wall, and compose herself. She could do this. Maybe if she faked having fun, she actually would enjoy herself? Maybe it was alright to be strong sometimes, and let the sadness creep in, too? With a faint sigh, the brunette peers to her right and spies Linn, subtlety watching her. Smoothing her dress, she nears the male and feigns a half-smile, for her sister’s lover, and her own best friend. “I’m sorry… I, um… I just needed to catch my breath from all the excitement.”

Orikahn shouted, "*You hear the booming, regal voice of one who is feminine, commanding, and cruel. The merry, yuletide lights of the ball flare noisily and turn a wicked green, casting a sickly, pale, pervasive glow.* Subjects. I accept these festive offerings and shall make them my welcome feast. Delight in the honor. Let no heart be glum. I come to claim and keep you."