[Seasonal Quest] The Winter Ball: Act I of Darkling Tides

[Trente]

Trente watched Nai'shee's lips move with interest as she spoke, listening carefully to her words. Words that excited him. He had worried for a moment that she had not realized her own wild nature. He was sane enough to realize he might be putting together a simple fantasy of what her nature was, but just insane enough to allow the dream to push his eye colour brighter with interest. He fancied the girl a wild sailor, that had the potential to fear nothing, and take anything she wanted. A true pirate, not only with strength, but undeniable grace and beauty. That was, of course, when she grew more mature. Her study of sailing and flux fit perfectly with this, and he opened his mouth to speak words of kind impression, but her eyes diverting from him to the click of professor's shoes diverted his response with it, and guides his own eyes in that direction.

He listened to Stri finish his words as Mistress Claira took her spot on the stage, then silently heard her out. His mind immediately began trying to work out what could possibly be happening. As she departed he directed his voice to Stri, as his eyes made work of the room. "Indeed." A simple and distracted response to Stri's request to speak more later. Trente too felt they could learn a lot from one another. His mind, however, was more concerned with the state of the other party-goers. Trente couldn't believe the blunt nature of the Mistress. Perhaps she just had a flare for the dramatic, but was it necessary to work up the crowd so? Trent had been stuck in small areas with panicked people before, and he naturally did not feel like repeating the experience. Finally his eyes, without prompting, began working away at tallying up the number of people in the room with weapons, and which of them looked as if they could use them proficiently.

To Nai'shee's breathy and rhetorical question Trente again responded without looking to her at first, eyes still scanning the room. "I am sure 'crisis' is a bit of a dramatic overstatement. If there was any danger to be in, the professors would not be leaving us unattended. No doubt their 'crisis' is a lack of condiments, or a sudden change in financial plans for the spring. I wouldn't expect anything worse than the annoyance of having to listen to hysterical women and over exuberant men chatter on about what could be happening for the remainder of the party." His eyes finally met with the two sane looking men in the corner. Minutes before he would have considered them idiots for attending a party with less than lavish clothing, but with the new turn of events he figured them some of the only attendants capable of keeping a cool head should anything violent happen. Trente spoke calmly, as he always did, but he in all truth wasn't as quick to disregard the prospect of danger as he would let everybody including himself believe.

His eyes finally drifted to Nai'shee as his sentence ended, and he lended her sweet face a brief smile. "I do believe it's time to you get, milady. And you," He nodded to Stri, "my friend, a drink. And I know it is time to get me one. It also might be a good time to a branch out a invite some others to come chat with us, perhaps somewhere not in the middle of the chaos." His smile faded, making away for a more serious almost annoyed expression. He decided to save the nervous laughter and fake jovialness for when things actually got bad. He just nodded toward the men in the corner. "They look like sailors, Nai'shee. Perhaps they could help shed light on the finer points of ocean navigation?"

With some sign of consention from the both, he would lead them first to grab drinks, taking a moment to grab another for Faylon who had finished his already, and then lead them toward the two in the corner as they continued their conversation.

[Avari]

For a moment, Avari froze when she heard her full first name uttered by an unfamiliar male voice from behind her. I've been made. He knows who I am. He knows!

No one in the city should know her real name was Avari. She had always been so careful to introduce herself to everyone she met as "Ari," not that many people had the opportunity or the interest to learn her name. This could only mean trouble for her. Her eyes darted swiftly to the exits from the West Wing before she could stop them, but the Konti consciously fought down her impulse to flee. The great hall was packed with people. If she bolted now, she would no doubt send the entire ballroom into a panic.

Instead, she swallowed her mouthful of mushrooms, cheese, and pastry and turned slowly around to confront whoever had greeted her. The Konti forced herself to smile at the unfamiliar, bald human male standing beside the table full of refreshments and drinks. Simply but smartly dressed, he looked like a young and fairly well-to-do student, like someone who belonged at this ball much more than she did.

"I...err...hello," she stammered. "Uh..."

Silently, she cursed herself for responding automatically to the sound of her name. If she had not frozen and turned around, she wouldn't have given herself away so obviously. Now, she couldn't exactly say, "No, you've got the wrong person, I'm a different Avari," could she?

The Konti tried a more playful tone and a charming smile, instead. "You have the advantage of me, sir. Have we met before?"

Before the man could answer, though, a faint susurrus of surprise and alarm spread through the West Wing hall and both of them turned their heads to find the source of the frightened whispers. Avari looked up just in time to see the musicians stop performing, while an older woman holding a lantern climbed the main stage and clapped her hands sharply. Her announcement made Avari furrow her brow in puzzlement. A large number of professors obeyed her instruction and filed out of the ballroom, while the rest of the ball-goers looked at each other and at the woman with confusion. A crisis? At the Winter Ball? What could it be?

One of the professors looked as though he might be bleeding, or at least had gotten blood on his shirt, which made Avari wonder if he had been injured. Perhaps that was what was causing all the fuss. Surely, they wouldn't need all the professors to patch up a wound, though.

"I wonder what that's about," she said aloud, breaking the silence. "It must be something serious, to draw all those professors away from their champagne and good food. Did you see that fat one tucking into the baked lobster? The butter sauce went everywhere." She leaned forward, looking the young bald man up and down. "Are you a student here? Perhaps you know what's going on better than I do."

[Nai'shee]

"Indeed", she answered to both of his question, still looking at the door which closed behind Mistress Claira. She forced herself too look away and followed Trente for some drink and meal. She shouldn't trow away free food just like that because of conversations, but yet, currently, it was more important to meet people who might teach her something or feature crew mates. She took a glass of vine. It was good. It is strange if they manage to find this much of good vine every year. "Shall we join them, then?", she asked, more rhetorically, still wondering about what happened. She knew Trente was probably right, and even if he wasn't that has nothing to do with them, so she should cheer up, but something in the way Mistress walked and spoke woke fear in her. Something big happened. "They seem like they need entertainment."

[Stri Navasarjaka]

Sailing wasn't particularly high on Stri's list of priority skills, but he figured he might as well follow Trente and Nai'shee, especially since it had been so hard to find a group with which he could fit in to begin with. Nodding his consent, he traveled to the concession table and grabbed a tall glass of something golden and sparkled. Champagne? Maybe. He took a sip and felt the bubbles sliding down his tongue. His father was not a big drinker, and neither was he, so the Navasarjakas never had much incentive to purchase alcohol. Stri reminded himself that he was in a new city with new people, and that if he wanted a drink once in a while there was nobody there to stop him. Taking another sip, Stri nodded again. Sailors sailed vessels, and there were lots of pulleys and ropes on those. He could relate to them, however measly the connection. Perhaps there could even be a use for an automaton on a boat. Perhaps a sail that automatically unfurled when the wind blew just right, or when ordered by a sailor? The metaphorical gears in Stri's mind were beginning to turn as he envisioned a completely autonomous boat, sailing the seas by itself with only a captain or a few crew members as support. Grinning, he thought perhaps he ought to discuss these ideas with someone.

[Warden Thrice]

Eorar frowned as Avari froze for the slightest second. He tilted his head at her in confusion. “Have we...?” An elderly woman cut him off as she clapped for attention. He assumed that she was a teacher, but he hadn’t been at the University long enough to know anyone except for the registrar and professor Stonemiller. He raised an eyebrow as she and a host of staffers exited, and made no move to break the confused silence that followed. He didn’t have to. “Baked… lobster?” he asked. “What is lobster?” Though he knew Common to carry a decent conversation, his vocabulary was severely lacking. He was also naïve when it came to meat; he had heard tales during his childhood of people that ate flesh, but had never put much stock in them. The idea was so foreign, so alien, so difficult to comprehend. He just assumed that the meat on the table was some kind of dish he had never encountered before; hardened pudding, perhaps, but it never occurred to him that it was the body of something that had once lived and breathed. “A student? Yes, but… oh! It’s me! Eorar!” He looked down sheepishly. “Sorry, I forgetting I was like this.” He gestured to his distinct lack of fishy characteristics. He caught the gazes of a few people standing a little ways off, and tilted his head at them questioningly. “I think those people being to come over,” he predicted.

[Trente]

Trente, now supremely uninterested in the brute who had practically attempted tag teamed him to the ground along with Stri, simply said "excuse me" as they approached the refreshments table. He abstractly reached past Eorar retrieving first a glass of sparkling Chardonnay from before the server, and handed it back to Nai'shee. Then, he reached forward retrieving one of his own, and a deep Merlot for the man in the corner. As he moved out of the way to allow his new companions to grab the food they might want he gave a kind smile to the poorly dressed Konti women across from Eorar. He left her with a simple, "Evening," spoken in a gentle quiet tone. She may not have come in very impressive attire, but a Konti women always deserved at least a moment of reverence on beauty and reputation alone.

With that he tarried only a few moments longer before finally responding to Nai'shee and heading toward Faylon and Idue. "Well I came to the ball expecting to be entertained, not to do the entertaining. But," He looked her in those eyes he loved so much again and smiled, slowing his pace to pull into perfect stride beside her. "I suppose I can be flexible."

Just before reaching the men, Trente gave a casual glance to Stri, in order to see how he was doing. He seemed lost and thought, and this saddened Trente slightly. He really had been enjoying his conversation with the man, and wished he knew what the man was thinking about. He decided to leave it for another time, however. As he was far more interested in what could be found amongst the armed men in the corner. His mother always told him to steer clear of armed men tucked in corners, they were in corners because they didn't want to talk. Trente had never been very talented at following his mother's advice, however.

"Hello there," He greeted Faylon, assuming he caught the two in one of their plentiful moments of silence. "You look like you could use a refill." He offered the drink out to Faylon, offering of course not just the drink but an opportunity to open conversation to them both. He did not speak again right away, instead waiting to see how his gesture would be received.

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Listening to what he was told Faylon would nod his head apparently unsurprised that Idue preferred the sort of thing that he himself was immersed in rather than learning in a classroom setting such as the one the University would offer. Still there was nothing wrong with a formal, and recognized, education seeing as how it could be put to use in less practical settings the same as one might find it useful in its practical setting. Like Idue had surmised though Faylon didn’t actually speak of real politics at all with concern to the docks but rather the mechanics around which they revolved. It was beneficial to know who the movers and shakers were in this setting as well as who the power brokers were; you always wanted to know who you were dealing with.] [Nodding his head once he would look back at Idue, a small smile playing across the corners of his mouth before he said...”That’s right. The Docks have their own politics obviously and not those of the formal kind.”...there was a pause then before he went on after taking a short breath...”I’m not an expert but I know my way around the docks and I know the names of the people that have obvious control in the area. It’s a start for now.”...actually Faylon knew quite a bit but Idue would have to wait til another time if he wanted to know more. If the two met after the Winter Ball they might find invaluable assets in one another. Now if only the Benshira shared Faylon’s secret dislike for the Gods the two might have one more thing in common but this was a subject that would not be aired in the open at all.] [Shifting against the wall where he’d been leaning Faylon would focus more intently on Idue as he told him he had come from Sunberth to Zeltiva and that he had lived in the Desert before that for what he surmised must have been the majority of the mans life. Sunberth; Faylon had heard the name of the city brandied about several times though he had never actually ventured to the city. Actually when it came to Sylira Faylon had never left Zeltiva at all. This was all well and good though as he would establish himself in Zeltiva before travelling away from the city on whatever business or matters may have needed to be tended.] [When Idue asked him where he’d come from Faylon would answer...”Denval. It’s in Kalea.”....maybe Idue had heard of it though Faylon wouldn’t have been surprised if he had not which is why he continued shortly after...”Denval is much smaller than Zeltiva. It’s a town. Arguably the size of a small outpost.”...he didn’t go into many of the specifics beyond this though. “I wasn’t born Denval though. My family settled there when I was very young so it’s most of what I know. I took a boat from Denval to Avanthal and then on to Zeltiva.”...the statement was quite matter of fact and now Idue knew the entire tale of where Faylon had come from and how he had come to Zeltiva omitting certain small details of course. There might have been more to the conversation if an interruption hadn’t occurred.] [The attention of the Winter Ball attends had started to shift towards the main stage where a woman, Mistress Claira, was clapping her hands until all eyes were on her and the music had ceased. When she had instructed everyone to stay in the hall, further informing them that this was not an option, Faylon would show his interest by raising both brows and telling Idue...”Well it appears that trouble we were speaking of beforehand may be on the rise a little sooner than we may have thought.”...doubting that either of them had foreseen anything happening so soon. Next the woman had said that she needed all professors to meet her outside the hall before she left the stage, the other professors in the crowd filing out behind her, she sounded quite worried.] [As they left the hall Faylon, who had been observing the crowds of those in attendance from the beginning, would slowly track those leaving before his eyes lingered briefly on the blood stains that could be seen on the shirt of one of the professors. He had no idea where those had come from but seeing them lead him to suspect only the worst of this situation. Tilting his head to the side he would have motioned to Idue then, attempting to steer the mans attention to the blood stains as well before the professor disappeared, though Faylon himself remained largely quite concerning what he had seen. With all the people gathered here in the hall of the West Wing the last thing anyone wanted was a panic to begin. Murder was just one of the many possibilities that Faylon considered after seeing blood.] [Next, before Faylon could say anything else, his attention was snapped back to the entire ball going on around them as Trente greeted him, offering him the drink, causing Faylon to smile briefly and nod his head once appreciatively. “Thank you; I was just thinking I could use another.”...he’d have said in return before accepting the glass of wine from Trente and raising it slightly as though he were saluting the man, a friendly gesture, then he would take a drink seeing as how the wine had stirred a thirst in Faylon and well. Lowering the glass again Faylon would go on to say...”I’m Faylon.”...before waiting so that Idue could introduce himself as well though regardless he would continue by adding...”Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”...which is when he’d look beyond Trente to the others, assuming they’d accompanied him of course. Nai’shee looked quite nice in her dress though Faylon thought she might be a tad young. Stri, well looking closely as him and Faylon might wonder if he wasn’t already a student of the University.]

[Elem Bree]

Fear became relief became a sense of awkwardness in mere moments. The young lady he had called the wrong name turned on her heel, but spoke to the other man who had actually called out to her. Elem had been summarily ignored, which should have made him happy, but it didn't. His eyebrows tightened as he looked at the bubbling elixir in his glass. Damned alcohol was already clouding his mind. Sure, he had only had two drinks, but he never drank. The euphoric tingle that had initially come about was squashed by his complete invisibility. He put his glass down, sure he had made a mistake coming to this thing when he could have spent the time studying or sleeping.

As he stepped away from the young woman and her companion, approaching the doors that exited the hall, his attention was immediately piqued. Mistress Claira, the head of the Medicine Department, the Infirmary and possibly the budding doctor's future, was making her way to the front of the room. Her look was immediately odd to Elem, as she usually held a cool, stern way about herself. At the moment of her coughing and clapping, she looked anything but. He listened to the orders given, his shoulders dropping a tad in resignation. Now he would be detained in the social gathering he was failing miserably at.

Once the group began to leave, Elem took a seat, the immediate cloud of murmurs from the audience echoing the frustration he felt. Probably not for the same reason, but it felt nice to not stick out for a moment. But then he remembered, he had been completely invisible. Perhaps he was so invisible that he could go outside anyway. He stood up and milled through the crowd, making his way toward the the entrance that the group of professors had just left through..

[Idue]

It was nice to get a smile from Faylon as Idue spoke with him; a frown didn't give good answers. But even then Faylon was brief in his talk about the politics on the docks. Which was fine for Idue; he wouldn't want to tell all of his business to a complete stranger. Especially when someone's business might delve into the more. . .illegal areas of the world. But if Faylon hadn't noticed Idue's interest yet, he would in a moment. They would speak no more, but Faylon would know the Benshira was interested. "It seems I have the desire to learn more about this, Faylon. But that is for another time, when fear of others overhearing." Faylon listened patiently as Idue answered his questions, so Idue felt the man deserved the same respect as he spoke. So Idue watched Faylon as he spoke of his homeland, a city called Denval. He said that it was much smaller than Zeltiva, and Idue had no doubt in it; Zeltiva was larger than Sunberth in Idue's mind. But Denval couldn't be smaller than what Idue lived in for most of his life. An outpost was still larger than a group of tents. And Idue also learned that Faylon had traveled here, stopping in Avanthal along the way. The frozen city didn't interest the Benshira much, but he was willing to continue the conversation until an interruption broke up their conversation. And not just the conversation between two men, but everyone in the room. The music had died down, and a woman spoke to them. She seemed to be a professor from the way she carried herself, and with her words, Idue's assumption was true. Her status did not bother Idue, but being confined in this room with no idea when he would be let out did not. Did something bad happen? What crisis was occuring at a party? Whatever it was, Idue was glad he brought his weapons. Not that they would help until he learned what the opposition was. A quick glance over to Faylon told Idue the man didn't know what to think about the situation either. He stated that the trouble they spoke about earlier was occuring quicker than they would've thought. "Aye," was all Idue had to say for that. Why would he say anything more? They had jinxed this party with their talk of trouble. It seemed everywhere Idue went, troubled followed. Idue's inner thoughts very nearly caused him to miss Faylon's heedings. From his body language, he wanted me to look at something. Idue glanced out into the crowd, choosing the one place where Faylon's attention would be; the professors. And then Idue saw it. One of the professors departing the room had a bloodstain on his shirt. There was no mistaking it; Idue had seen bloodstain enough in his short time among the more violent humans to recognize it. Where blood was, violence had been there. Was this what the fuss was about? Before Idue could say anything about it, he and Faylon were joined by three more people. The man with a rapier strapped to his waist spoke first, announcing that he assumed Faylon needed a refill. The woman in the red dress and the other man didn't speak just yet. Faylon grabbed the wine without pause, introducing himself. He paused, and Idue assumed this was his chance to introduce himself to them too. With a slight bow of his head to the three, he stated "Call me Idue." Silenced followed, so Idue glanced at the sword on Trente's hip. It appeared to be ornate; why would this well dressed man carry around a plain sword? Odds are, some people showed off their status by the way their weapon appeared. And the way Idue's axes were a slight tinge of red, he appeared to be a simple thug. But he knew how to use his weapons. Did this man? This was something Idue wished to know, so he asked. He didn't care to offend the man; if you carried a weapon, you should know how to use the weapon. "Do you know how to use that sword, or is it just for show? I have a feeling that it might come in handy, but only if you don't hurt yourself with it." No smile or smirk crossed Idue's face. He was serious with his question. Not because he was worried that Trente would injure himself if the weapon ever had to be used. He was cautious because he didn't want a rapier stuck into his back because of this man's lack of skill with the sword. He wasn't dying tonight if he could help it. And if he was trying his best not to die, than this man better petching trying too.

[Nai'shee]

"It is my pleasure", she replied to Faylon and his friend, using Trente's entrance to conversation. "I'm Nai'shee." She looked at him, and concluded he was probably nothing more then human, muscular, about ten years older then her or so. His hair was black, and his eyes were blue too. But, anyways, what tickled her curiosity was the other man, Idue, the Benshira. She knew a little about them, just enough to recognize he was one of them, but it was rare to see them in Zeltiva. Actually, nothing about them really impressed her, she was the girl of the sea, and they were nation of desert, they were like a heaven and earth, but yet, people of earth were always interested in heaven, even without desires to go there. His next question sounded rude, but that was not what worried Nai'shee. He actually seemed like he expected Trente will use that weapon. It was so cold headed she automatically looked away. Her first impulse was to take a little wine, but she ignored it, trying to find solution to this puzzle. Is it possible something dangerous is going to happen? All of them just peacefully talked here, most already forgot or decided to ignore the incident. It was probably her paranoia, and even if Idue was pretty awkward companion, it had nothing to do with the incident.