Open The Nitrozian Party (Closed)

[Verilian]

. . Party at House Nitrozian . . Timestamp: 67th of Spring, 513 AV Location: The Nitrozian Estate The party was all the talk on the canals could concern themselves with, and everyone who was invited and even some who were not were excited. A Nitrozian party was not just a social gathering, it was usually a sign of something big to come. The parties were often a front, a place for enemies in business to gather together and work out deals that would otherwise never happen. They were events where the upper echelons could make contact with the low. Many important people would be in attendance at the party, and many of questionable import, as well as staff and a number of well trained slaves. Nobody was certain quite how the Nitrozians had decided to invite their guests, those that were coming just knew that they had received an invitation. And one did not turn down invitations to Nitrozian events. The majority of guests gathered in the dining hall, a massive room with three long tables, piled with a wide variety of delicious foods from all over Mizahar. No expense was spared on the meal, or on the furnishings of the room. The elegant wooden chairs, each carved by hand, were worth as much as most Ravokians made in a season. Outside the dining hall, there were three other large rooms. In one room there was an open bar, and several small tables for patrons to gather around and talk. Another room had a small stage with musicians playing light music, and the occasional dance tune. The final room, or at least the final one open to the public, was for other types of performers, some exotic, some frightening, and some just outright ridiculous. Throughout the building there were slaves and hired servants to bring the party guests anything they needed. Occasionally guests would appear and bring people up the stairs for private meetings with various members of the family, but it was all invitation only. There were guards on the lookout for thieves and to even enter the building, without sneaking in through a window, one had to present their invitation or employment credentials to one of the guards. Security was tight, but once inside the atmosphere lightened considerably. The party had only just begun. Many of the guests were still arriving and the head of the family, Sitanos Nitrozian, had not yet shown himself. His wife Milina was already moving about, mingling with the guests and getting to know everyone, big or small. Other members of the family could be found about, as well as members from all the major families in Ravok. Rumor had it, the Voice herself might even make an appearance. But the night had only just begun, and there was still much to be seen. Read MeOkay, so, if you signed up at The Spot, assume you have some sort of employment papers to get you in. If not, then make up an excuse for why you might have been invited. It's an open thread, but in theory, the guests are invite only.

[Sevris]

Sevris was one of the first to arrive to the Nitrozian party. When he received his invitation. The Lazarins were on good terms with the other families of Ravok, especially the Nitrozians. He expected they would have some Lazarins to show. His name garnered attention when he walked through the front door. He drew eyes in his direction as some noticed that a Lazarin had entered. The amusing part would be that they probably didn't even know his name. But was familiar to the family he belonged to. Which was all they needed to identify with. If that wasn't enough he had decided to don an all silk outfit, blood red and black. With the Lazarin insignia on the back. He was off duty from the Guard. But he was allowed to still carry his weapon as the front guards were aware of his position as a guard and Ebonstryfe. He hadn't gotten a chance to come to a Nitrozian party before but he was certainly going to enjoy himself. He began picking up conversations and mingling. Sevris enjoyed the luxuries of the fine food and fine women. But all the while he kept an eye open, there were always some important cameo appearance at one of these events. He just hoped it wasn't the Dawn this time.

[I'tram Bearguard]

I'tram had the job of a guard during the Nitrozian party, he had hoped he would have had a post inside so he could enjoy the festivities whilst doing his job, it would've been a win-win situation. Unfortunately he was given a post at the main entrance of the Estate, checking the invitations of guests and looking out for potential threats. He reconciled himself with the fact that he would get to meet a number of Ravok's most important citizens.

While I'tram's armour and weapons had disguised his age well enough some individuals who were more observant than the others gave him strange looks. The night was young and already he had to turn away a surprising amount of people who wanted to enter the party but didn't have an invitation. Many were just people who wanted to get close to Ravok's wealthy and powerful but some had a more malicious intent in mind.

So far the party was going well and there didn't seem like there was going to be any unusual occurrence. Perhaps the Rising Dawn had learned their lesson and there wouldn't be a disruption. This looked like it would be a pretty easy night at the moment.

[Elaine Spade]

The party. Not only mortals knew about it. The souls were around them and heard everything. Like Elaine herself. A noble family how was that fascinating. She was sure their greedy nature couldn't be stopped. The girl ghost was thinking if she should check out what was this all about. She had nothing better to do so she went there uninvited. It didn't matter for her at the moment she just took a little look didn't she? People were going in the building they were just keep coming and coming. Elaine noticed the guards. Useless. She became invisible and walked in. She was just going through the guests didn't brother how could that feel for them.

"What a shame... I pity them somehow... Just like my party. Digusting... "

She whispered silently. Pity the humans. Did she really mean it or was it sarcastic. Even she didn't know herself she just kept going to the dining hall. So much people she didn't know where to look. Ah.. the nostalgia... she thought and looked at the tables. Delicious and more delicious dishes. The decoration was pretty, the slaves was working and everyone had fun with nobles. BORING! That reminded The Silent Lady about hers party. She was thinking to have fun a little. She had to do something. A little prank won't hurt... her! She found great opponents. A couple. She sneaked there and whispered to the woman's ear while she was invisible.

"Oh dear you couldn't be that blind even if you wanted to be... Can't you see your husband is cheating on you. Look at his eyes where they are going... Don't be fooled... Keep attention or you will have some serious problem. "

The woman suddenly looked back. Nobody... Elaine was walking away like nothing happened. The woman was staring back with big eyes at her husband. With jealous eyes.

[Aislin]

She had been given an invitation. A pale sheet of parchment enclosed in an envelope adorned only with her name in slanting cursive. A deep black ink that reminded her of a raven's feathers. At first, she had wondered what it was, but then she remembered. They had them every year. All the time it seemed. But why invite her? Certainly, it was not her trade, but the mark that adorned her back. Even so, Aislin sat with her back crooked against the edge of an ornate couch. Her skin tight black dress sliding up the length of her leg as her arm settled onto a rest. Her legs crossing a length of cushions before her feet dangled off the side. Black stilhetto's straps twisting up the length of her pale skin. Twin serpents entwining the woman's form as iced irises looked across the floor. Watching many entertain in ways that the whore could not. But that was why she was here was it not? To sell herself. No, what had the Nitrozians said in their letter? Seduce them. Sister... So perhaps they did know. Just like the Ebonstryfe. The Voice, Rhysol... They knew everything. Leaving her only to realize that it'd be unwise to refuse. So there she was. A Chaon, a whore, lounging on a couch in a dress that only accentuated her feature, waiting for someone to toy with. To please; just as she had always been instructed. OOCSorry this is awful. Also, being unsure of age, I'll keep this clean.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Just like his grandmother Milina Valerius Nitrozian was already mingling with the guests. There was a light smile on the young man’s face, and he made an effort to appear halfway sociable even though he didn’t enjoy being in close proximity to such a number of people or – Rhysol forbid – touching them or things they had touched. He liked making connections, he liked the plotting and scheming, and he aimed to improve his position within Ravok and increase his power, but he could barely stand certain social aspects that necessarily came with it. Of course he wore his most elegant, most expensive clothes. It wouldn’t do if the guests looked better than him. A glass of fine, red wine in his hand, he moved through the house, complimented one of the performers, ordered the guards to pay attention to who came and left and observed the guests in the dinining room, furrowing his brow slightly as he did so. The normal citizens of Ravok weren’t the only ones that were wondering how the Nitrozian’s chose their guests. Despite being a Nitrozian himself, Valerius wasn‘ quite sure how some of those people had gotten in. Between the usual suspsects – Larks, Lazarins, Valdinox‘ and Galatos‘ were people that Valerius – who prided himself on being well connected – had never seen before. Just what had his grandparents thought? Why in Rhysol’s name was a whore – no matter how beautiful she looked – sitting in the middle of his house? He would need to talk to his grandparents after the party.

[Axe]

Axe had been a rather unexpected addition to the Nitrozian Party, one that many had recoiled away from. When she had presented her employment credentials to the guards they had looked more than a little shocked that a Zith would be counted to their ranks tonights. Their reactions to her really couldn't have mattered less, they were all just prey-meat to her and this was just a job. If anyone tried to harm her current employers then they would find their end at the claws and teeth of an angry Zith, which was an incredibly potent deterrent for most. The winged warrior had been posted outside near the main entrance, on the roof of the building as a matter of fact where her keen senses could see all and hear all that occurred below.

The Zith was crouched down at the edge of the roof, her wings idly extending and stretching in the night air. Most Zith wore no clothes what so ever, which was probably another reason she had been posted outside other than her monstrous appearance . The only thing that could be considered clothing on her person was her weapon harness which held her fearsome axe. The smell of the food inside was enough to make her stomach turn in revulsion, these humans had no stomach for hunting what so ever. Instead they had others deliver their food to them on a silver platter, adorned with disgusting spices and seasonings, it completely offended her sensibilities as a Zith.

These Nitrozians may be weakling prey-meat, but at least they would be paying her for this job. Shiny coins were useful in getting by, especially considering Axe had Penri to think about. So she would try and hold her contempt for these pathetic creatures down long enough to finish the job.

As Axe continued to survey the main entrance for any sign of trouble, her keen ears hearing anything she wished and her eyes seeing all, she noticed someone familiar below. A very young human male dressed in armor, who possessed a gladius at either side.

The Slave-Meat I'tram Bearguard, The Zith warrior noted with a slight grin.

She had not thought to see the young warrior again after that one night, and had mourned that she had not been able to test the strength of his arm. Tonight was not the night for that of course, however the Zith opted to keep an eye on the boy from her high perch. One never knew when an opportunity could be dropped at one's feet.

[Inoadar]

Several days earlier, Inoadar's rounds making eye contact with representatives of various Ravokian factions had yielded a promising surprise. A sign at the docks that the Ravosalamen had information for him.

Per his previous arrangement, perhaps better described as a 'seasonal bribe', the boatmen had agreed to relay any rumors involving him, whether beneficial or detrimental in nature. They had delivered a notice that an important man in town wished to extend a 'thank you' for aiding him greatly in his opportunistic takeover of his partner's business. Coupled with the incrimination of the man's prospective son-in-law, for the convenient death of that same business partner, in such convincing manner as to have deceived even the man's own daughter against her fiance, it had been a coup second-to-none.

The boatman had handed over two items. The first being a note thanking 'the man responsible, for the information which allowed a deserving man's life's goal to be realized through the elimination, both timely and preemptive, respectively, of stale, old management as well as its inept, prospective replacement. A single glimpse, of an efficient and visionary operative, did not give sufficient opportunity to bestow the gratitude I have come to realize I owe.

'To rectify this debt, I present an invitation to the upcoming gala event at the estate of the august Nitrozian family. It promises to be the party of the season. I did not see you clearly enough that I will be able to identify you if you attend. Knowing that a man of your talents may wish it to remain this way, I will simply say that I will be attending and will be available at your convenience, should you wish to present yourself to discuss the possibility of future dealings. Opportunities are everywhere. I look forward to meeting you if that is your wish. Otherwise, enjoy the party.'

The second item was the invitation itself. Inoadar had read and destroyed the note. He would not need it if he wished to approach Mr. Barton. Just knowing the true events of the takeover would be sufficient to make clear who he was. He would be on his guard though. For all the gushing appreciation expressed in the note, it was entirely possible that Mr. Barton wanted nothing more than to eliminate the one last potential obstacle to his life's goal.

For future security he'd subtly disguised his face. He'd found recently that a half a drop of Hag's Mask gave the skin of his face the weather-beaten look of an older man, with perhaps an ugly blemish or two. This, along with the standard lightening of his hair and brows, should be enough to confuse descriptions.

Inoadar handed his invitation to the doorman, a grin spreading across his slightly altered face as he entered. The doorman had agreed 'it should be a great time', misunderstanding the nature of Inoadar's grin. His heart was set on larceny and his hopes were set on narrow escapes. But he had to agree, 'it should be a great time.'

[Melenna]

“The night is young—” those were the words Blaze Underwood lived by. When his band was tired of playing a requested song for the tenth time, when a pretty young creature dismissed him, when his head was dizzy with wine and his fingers clumsy on his own fiddle, that was the phrase that carried him through. It did not matter if it was ten in in the evening or midnight or two in the morning, for as far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world. Rehearsals and deadlines were an entirely different matter, but the performance, the dance, the party, that's what he lived for and he was determined to live it on this particular evening.

So when a particular konti complained that it was too late in the evening to sing, Blaze told her those magic words. This slave, this Melpomene had been placed with his group by request, and for what purpose he couldn't fathom. All he really needed was his flutist and his man on the bodhran to make some light, seasonal music, but apparently he needed someone on the lute, too. After some rehearsals, he'd found her to be quick in learning music and blending with the group, but there was something about her voice that didn't quite fit with his local tenor, smooth where his was rough and polished when his was dull. He had thus decided on no duets, leading his songs with his voice when the fiddle wasn't needed and letting the konti sing when it was.

Truth be told, they hadn't been running for more than half a bell when Melpomene became uncomfortable. A few audience members were fine, but a whole hall's worth? It was one thing to have a bunch of aristocrats flashing fans and snobbing up the conversation, but an entire house full of Rhysol's most influential figures? It seemed a miracle if the night would pass without a single murder. The air was thick with perfume and airy incense, but no amount of candlelight and cosmetics could hide the decidedly sinister romance blossoming in the evening. It wasn't a time for song, food, and dance—it was a time to hide in the nearest crevice only to come out when daylight returned.

This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be seen? Melpomene's thoughts were dry as she sat near the center of a polished wooden stage surrounded by fellow musicians. It was almost ironic—she'd been dying to feel the lilting touch of an instrument, to play again for willing ears, but the party wasn't what she'd had in mind. Most of the guests were still in the dining hall, but the small crowd gathered about the room was enough for her to feel slightly claustrophobic. Blue satin, black silk, flashing rings and painted lips lined the mostly empty room. A few couples had danced to the last song the band had played—some lightly sensual tune called “Ravok's Lullabye”— but now they stood with the others, awaiting more inevitable music.

“Mel! They're waiting.” Blaze lightly prodded the konti's thigh with the tip of his bow, a smile plastered on his face as he gazed at the audience. If she didn't move soon enough to answer some fluttering woman's request, he'd have to start without her.

Melpomene sighed, straightening her back as she unglued her lips. She didn't feel ready to play what felt like an empty ditty, but performing was her current duty, and one her master wouldn't lightly forgive if she failed. So she straightened her back and poised herself on the edge of her chair, one foot lightly tucked behind the other. The white lute on her lap felt lighter as her fingertips hit the first chord, feeling the vibration touch skin before the sound echoed out into the room. Each harmonic strum had its own life, blending a lively kind of laziness into the mix of instruments that followed her. Those sounds gave the flat feeling in her chest enough vigor to let her voice out, and she began to sing.

“Fly as the birds fly
Dancing on the sky
Gracing over ground
Smooth without a sound
Seasons come and seasons go
Always changing what we know
Colors dull and go to bright
Day transforming in the night

Swim as the fish swim
Swaying at sea's whim
Gliding slick as glass
Bolder than bright brass
Life is change as we all know
We travel with the natural flow
Don't linger long as it won't last
The present's already the past

Run as the deer do
Searching for Spring's hue
Resting on the dew
Leaping in the blue
Time grows old and passes by
Never time to say goodbye
Every moment still is new
If you live as we do”

There was a brief silence when Melpomene finished, followed by light applause. She stood and curtsied while the other band members bowed, frowning when Blaze suddenly leaned in close. “Not bad, but this is supposed to be a party. Lighten that tone up, will you? I don't want Sitanos breathing down my neck. Go... go take a break for a minute, refresh the tongue and get it ready for the dance numbers.”

Melpomene rolled her eyes but complied, curtseying again before stepping off the stage. She wore an empty smile, cheeks slightly pale from the exertion of her performance. Music was a delight to make, but the atmosphere of the party was smothering, and she didn't like all of the looks she received. She followed the walls with the long grace of a crane, a slight trail of white silk following her. The bright gown was plain, but followed her curves with all the smoothness of fallen snow, sporting flashes of gray satin ribbon that tied behind her neck instead of covering the shoulders with sleeves.

The konti took care to maneuver around crowds, keeping her eyes low and skirting around curious eyes. There was one close call between a small group and a buffet table—the nearest man seemed exceptionally strange, young and yet sporting pure white hair. Her fingers lightly brushed across the back of his shoulder as she slid by with a whispered apology. Glorious smells were tempting her nose as she drew near to a shrimp bowl, but the delights didn't end there. Spinach salads dusted with spicy oregano, lake trout with freshly squeezed lemon, fruit bowls with chopped pineapple and melons—she could only begin to imagine what the ambrosia-like juices would feel like as they slid down her throat.

[Zeke Talbane]

LegendBlue text indicates unspoken word, but thoughts. “Time to put on the best mask now,” Zeke spoke to himself as he busily dressed in his best wears. The soft cotton was tucked into the equally soft black pants before the decorative waist coat slipped onto his thin shoulder blades neatly. He reached for four daggers and began to slip them into the belt holsters for each of the thick, sharp, blades. They were mostly for show, but even five years after his arrival to Ravok and then soon after citizenship, he had always been wary of his neighbors. He straightened his clothing before he reached for the paper that sat on his desk, an invitation to a prestigious social that was the talk of the city. The sun had grown large in the sky as it neared the horizon. The orange shade of rays streamed into his modest apartment as he soon exited and shut the door behind him. “Only five years have passed and now I have an invitation, someone obviously wants me to be present.” Zeke continued to think as he folded the bit of paper and tucked into a pocket. “It has to be real, the paper is too elegant to be a con. But I wouldn’t put it pass bandits to use such deceptions.” Zeke soon stepped into a Ravosala as other soon joined. Zeke scanned the travelers, “hmm that gentleman seems to work at the docks,” he commented on a man dressed in sweat, and salt stained clothing. The rough hands and physique of the man’s body seemed to suggest it had to be something laborious. “or maybe he is a carpenter? Hmm, what about this couple?” His eyes lazily drifted to a man and woman, the gentleman stepped into the Ravosala first and held aided the thin woman on board. “Hmm a happy couple, nice clothing sharply dressed.” Zeke shuttered a bit as the Ravosala began to drift from dock. “Woops watch it,” someone’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled Zeke’s body back into the boat. Zeke’s eyes moved toward the man who caught him, “it always surprises me, when they cast off.” Zeke flashed a smile toward the young man. His eyes further studied the sturdy body fondly. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around.” Zeke turned toward the center of the vessel as the wind gently licked at his long hair. “I’d have to say the same about you,” the young man admitted casually. “My name is Keith, I work at the dock. How about you?” “Zeke, it is a pleasure to meet you Keith. I don’t have a job, at least I don’t consider it one.” Zeke looked thoughtful for a moment as Keith adjusted his position. Zeke couldn’t help but glance over at Keith’s body once more. “I have too much fun with what I do,” Zeke finally stated before he noticed his stop had begun to approach. “Well met Zeke. Though it looks like you are about to depart?” There was a hint of of some disappointment in his tone. “Unfortunately this is true,” Zeke looked at Keith, “I’m sure our paths will cross again.” “I’m sure they will,” Keith nodded as the Ravosala docked under one of the stone bridges. Zeke stood and exited off the boat only after he patted Keith’s shoulder. “Goodnight Keith.” Zeke flashed a warm smile toward the young man before he began to climb the steps from the canal’s edge. The belt that held his daggers drifted to the left side of his body and pulled at his pants. “That was pleasant,” A warm smile played across his lips as he crossed the bridge and began to walk the curved streets of the district. He adjusted his belt several times until it began to become a nuisance. He stopped near the side of a building as he shifted from foot to foot annoyed by his belt. ”Why are you giving me trouble now? Stupid thing, He grunted and tightened his belt. His hand brushed up the fabric of his waistcoat on the left and felt the hilts of his daggers, “two here, two--” Zeke’s hands began to fondle the hilt of only one dagger on his right hip, “petch!” His eyes darted along the ground around him, “they don’t just fall out.” He began to backtrack his steps back onto the bridge all the while he scanned the ground. “Nothing,” he cursed and kicked a stone over the side of the bridge. It plopped into the water and was almost a chime as realization washed over his body. “Keith!” Zeke, patted his coat and searched his pockets afraid that he may have taken something else off his person. Eyes wide, his hands dipped into the pocket that had the invitation within it, “That salty, nnnnugggh.” Zeke looked up the canal’s path and began to run to the next cross section in the circular pathways. oocSeparate thread continues elsewhere. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Night had laid claim to the city as Zeke finally returned to the nobler of districts in Ravok. His hair and clumped together and stuck to his forehead from sweat. His shirt untucked and waistcoat open, he appeared quite the mess. But he didn’t care his belt was once more full of daggers, there would be time later to clean up a bit once inside the estate. He took in a deep breath and straightened his coat sharply. He closed his eyes and began to repeat to himself, “I’m confident, I belong here.” The mansion in his sights now he approached the guard and presented the parchment to her. A slight arora around him, one that seemed to command some focus to him in regards. Even as he presented the crumpled and slightly torn, stained with a spatter of suspicious brown liquid. He held it out and the woman backed away from it as if it harbored some sort of virus, “who did you steal this from? Is that blood?” She questioned loudly and Zeke’s eyes became saucers, yet his confidence didn’t seem to falter, instead the surprised look gave off an almost offended look. If only offense was the truth, “Mam,” Zeke began to locked onto the woman’s own. ”You can do this, focus,” He counseled himself as he began to focus on his Djed. He could feel his nerves tingle as the flow of magic began to grow toward his eyes. “This man is not a threat. This man is not a threat, believe this man.” his inward voice continued to chant as he summoned part of djed from the softer, gentler sides of who he was. The Djed began to be infused with the suggestion as it moved like snakes from his confident, almost daring eyes, to mingle subtly with her own. He continued to chant inwardly even as his mouth moved and began to explain his way out of the situation, “Surely you jest mam. Are you suggesting that little old me would have the testicular fortitude to attack someone wealthy or well known just for an invitation?” The guard seemed to consider this a moment before Zeke added, “I’m flattered if you do mam.” He gave dry smile as the woman grunted before she moved aside to let Zeke through. “Much obliged madam.” He moved a hand to reach for the brim of his hat and found nothing to grasp. “Woops, forgot my cap.” He chuckled awkwardly as he folded the invitation back into his pocket before he too vanished into the light of the room. “Testicular fortitude, gotta write that down.” Zeked nodded toward several folks who nodded back slightly less enthusiastically than himself. His disheveled self desperately needed a wash room or somewhere private he could retire and at least make himself more presentable. He wandered through the through the room some and checked on his material that he had brought earlier. Two chairs and a large, wooden, framed, cabinet whose walls were made of thick curtains. It was his signature deception and one that he’d perform later when the masses arrive. But at that point in time, he drew the curtains and used it as his place to fix his attire. When the crowds arrived he began to mingle, all the while he gauged the crowd and began to feel the receptiveness of each person. Mentally he noted a few marks who’d be the best candidates for the show and the display he would soon show the party goers for their amusement.