The Mad God's Masque and Bellicose Ball (IC) (M)

[Cogidubnus]

Months Prior:

The town surrounding Damaske Castle, often simply called Damaske even though the great monolith to which it was named was located miles away in the countryside, found itself enduring one of the most severe winters in it's history - a very, very hard freeze. Skeleton trees, powdery white and gleaming with ice in the grey winter sun
surrounded the quaint little town, with it's cobbled pavement and high, sloped roofs. Wrought-iron gated windows stared out at the countryside and at the interior of the town, where beige-colored stones and colorful woods watched silently as time ticked by. Not a soul was about on this sort of a day, in the kind of weather that can make a man snap at the knees.

The train station, a yellow-brick ticket house with a small roof that extended just over the edge of the platform, was similarly deserted. A singular bench, seemingly lonely amid a bare station with no train, had set beside it a stack of letters, tied with a red bow. Each one had addressed on it a single name, done in fine red calligraphy, and with a blank seal of red wax. The paper itself seemed to be cardstock - perhaps made simply of a single piece of folded paper. They were wrapped with precise care, the red ribbon wrapped around them keeping them solidly in their crate-like form. The coating of ice seemed to say that they'd been there for some time.

In the far distance, a column of smoke was getting closer. The weekly train was nearly here, perhaps only fifteen minutes away.
One letter lay atop the bench, open and already read, a clean square of white on the powdery snow. In clear, red letters, it read,

Luna Lazuli,
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet  Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February


Damaske Station:

  Springtime in Damaske was a beautiful thing, but it's the month before the real start of the season, when most flowers are still hiding beneath the earth and the grasses and greenery are dead yet, that one the hidden beauties of the town flowers. Certain trees along the path of the train would explode with color, blooming out with gorgeous, gold-speckled red flowers and twisting vines of purple, oftentimes brushed with the faintest powdery hint of winter. This town, nearly alone among only a few others deep in the country, could boast such scenery. It was one of the more beautiful sights that one could see deep in northern Belgae, a country renowned for its ferocious and deadly winters. The March-blooming Emberflower, they called it.
It was February. LL stared at row after row of bare tree, and felt her still-pointed teeth grind together.

"Remind me again, granddaughter, why I don't just remove this patch of land." she said, sipping from an exquisitely delicate china cup, eggshell-thin, and translucent enough to see the level of tea within it. It clinked gently as she set it down, the elder draconic matriarch's movements causing her clothing to rustle only slightly.
It was the first of February. It wouldn't do to be late, after all.

It was clear by the elder dragon's tone she was joking, but only by half. Melodie Icewing, her youngest granddaughter, had felt the chill for every agonizing hour since she'd set foot in grandmother's private car nearly two days ago. Travel by train was largely symbolic, and usually wasn't all unpleasant – it was less tiring than flying, and the winter countryside was prettier to look at than the arctic tundra of home. This year, however, the train ride had been exhausting. Irritation practically flowed off the older dragon, the normally civil clanleader downright frosty.
It was Mel's luck that it was her turn this year to get to go to grandmama's ball.

LL had shared with her the reason for her frostiness, of course, but this didn't make the venerable old dragon any more pleasant to be around. The few times Mel could simply escape from the small car, flying above to 'take the air', or retiring to the bedroom car were a welcome relief from the oppressive atmosphere.
It wasn't all bad. Her grandmother was a terror, but she truly cared for her family, if sometimes only too much. The conversation took the occasional warmer turn. The physical temperature in the car was also much more comfortable than the temperature outside – at least a good twenty degrees lower.

At the moment, however, deprived of one of her yearly spectacles, her grandmother's irritation was showing just a little. She was wearing a simple outfit, nothing like her ballroom dress for later, just something mildly formal – a styled grey robe with the Icewing sigil on the breast. Her skin glowed like old, smooth ivory, dully gleaming by the one fire in the room, a small flame underneath the delicate china teapot. Tea wasn't served cold, after all.

Damaske station pulled closer every moment, the platform bustling with activity. LL's own retinue was preparing for the dragon's disembarkation, as evidenced by the general, vague noise from the outside of the car's doorway.

[Boog]

Jeremiah was hungry.
That, really, came with his lifestyle for the past six months. In an incident that he only half remembered, in the same way a legless man can't always recall details of how a salesman talked him into buying a combination shoe shiner and shinguard, the frog had set out to see his relatives, lost his vehicle to a rather irate and woefully old-fashioned demon's ire, and found himself in a locale he'd personally dubbed The Arse End Of Nowhere from which he'd set out to, hopefully, find his way back to somewhere that could qualify as civilization.
This was three towns ago. The second to last one had chased him out, although in his defense he had NO IDEA that the people there considered that particular spring a holy place. Just goes to show how sensitive some folks got about religion, and where it is and isn't appropriate to go fishing.
He pulled his ragged gray-green tweed overcoat around himself closer and shivered through the white dress shirt beneath it. It was a cold night out, much too much so to agree with his amphibious nature. He was rather hoping that he wouldn't have to spend the night on another subway grate. Last time a gust from one nearly cost him his favorite black fishing hat and his glasses nearly fell through a hole in the grating.
Then again, Damaske doesn't seem to have much of a subway system. Or a homeless shelter. Or kindly disposed strangers with comfortable guest rooms. Or unlocked doors.
... Unlocked doors? Am I really about to sink that low?
You sure you want an answer, greaseball? Take it from someone who lives here, ya whiney little fucker, your subconscious is one messed up-
Shaddap, Bal. Jeremiah grumbled to himself and reached into his pocket for a strip of something that looked, smelled, felt, sounded, and tasted ALMOST, but not quite, exactly like beef jerky and took a bite from it, letting the mild toxins in the substance quiet what he preferred to think of as his Condition. He knew better than to try living off the stuff though; too much left people gibbering wrecks...

He eventually managed to get directions to a local castle, which was a good thing overall. People in castles tended to want to flaunt their wealth before the impovershed, and had enough guards to not worry about letting them into their home, and Jeremiah figured he was about as impovershed as they came. He dropped by a stream along the way to tidy himself up a little (after all, castle owners often didn't want to flaunt wealth at people who might get Poor on the carpet) and left quickly before anyone could object. A good distance later he was at the gates of Castle Damaske. He raised his hand to reach for the knocker... And the door opened. A badger dressed as a butler leaned out and gave the frog a cursory once over and raised one eyebrow to the 10 o'clock "Fine, fine, you're a person," position known to aristocracy and its trappings the world over.
Jeremiah froze and recovered quickly, face breaking into a wide, friendly grin.
"Hey there! Name's Jeremiah Ac'Gregor, just wanted to ask a few questions..."

The badger had been stubborn, obstinate and seemed very lacking in imaginative cababilities, so it was a little tricky for Jeremiah to talk his way around him and to the head of staff. Fortunately, that gave him enough time to work out why he wanted to talk to the head of staff. This had been a couple weeks ago, and Jeremiah was now quite happily a Valued Member of the Castle Damaske Staff. In exchange for room, board, and pay he personally had concluded was Acceptably Modest, the frog was essentially doing all the work that everyone important didn't to help prepare for this big upcoming to-do. Best of all, while he was scarpering around fetching, peeling, nodding while smiling, carrying, cleaning and decorating the job also came with All The Free Food You Can Nick Without Being Noticed, which was by and large his favorite kind. Oh yeah, there were some oddities. Rooms or gates that were always locked, for little reason, red-brown stains in odd corners that didn't come up, other butlers who were always polite and took just a moment too long before grinning at a joke. All things considered though, it was the best he'd been doing in some time.
Just don't trip over any fancy ladies at the ball, ya clutz. You know this will all go to hell as soon as you actually have any responcibility.
You're losing your edge, Bal.
It's all so pretty! I like it!
Work, work--- Break? Work. Stains? *snort*
Finish this last bit quickly, so we can go back to the room. I don't like it here in the kitchens.
Aww, wossa matter Nex? Scared of da big bad ovens makin' funny noises?
This is below the station of what we should be doing, really.
It PAYS, Cab. As in money that I need in order to get FOOD this month, to stay alive, which coincidentially keeps YOU alive.
Still.
HeeehaehehehaheooohehahaehaHAEHEOAHEOAHEHEEHOHAHAAA-!
Oh, will someone shut him up! Honestly, he's been getting worse every day lately...

[Aisha deCabre]

Somewhere along the back road, far from the appointed destination yet, a white tigress sat in the back of a gryphon-drawn cart looking down at the piece of paper that she carried in her hand.  Her deep green gaze once again read the letters emblazoned in red as the land slowly and gently passed by, almost dead in the cold but waning winter.  And as she made sure that the invitation was indeed for herself, the Healer Rynkura Msh'taan wondered why she was going in the first place.

Her last formal party was over a hundred years ago, after all...but she was still curious.  The name Msh'taan, though a lineage of nobles, had been lost to the ages...and yet somehow there was her name.  Someone must have known her, or else of her...how long ago had it been sent out anyway, long before it was brought to one of the towers via messenger bird a few days ago?

The tigress hummed and folded the letter again, putting it in the satchel she carried on her belt.  A chilly wind picked up, and she pulled the hood of her bright blue and white Healer cloak over her head, clutching a glowing blue staff closer.  Perhaps it was good that she came, if only to secure her monastery's location.  Her student had come back for a long stay, so to leave it in her care along with the rest of the guards, Rynkura knew that the place was in good hands.  No concern was to plague the old former paladin on a journey.

And she knew of Damaske, somewhat.  The town was small, and at the best times of the year, homely, even with a castle overshadowing the countryside.  But it wasn't always a big enough place to warrant interest to her ears.  Who knows, it might even be a little bit of old-age fun.  She had already gotten a dress and mask for the event.

"Ma'am?"

Rynkura's head shook, as the driver's voice broke through her musings.  She also noticed that the carriage stopped at the edge of a town.  "Er, yes, sorry, I was almost asleep."

The driver, a sort of colorful avian, didn't seem at all surprised, or amused.  "Sorry to disturb you, but this post is as far as my route goes.  Damaske is a ways up the road, you should see a station there."

The tigress stood up and nodded with understanding, questioning no further.  "Thank you then, sir."  Picking up her staff, she stepped out of the cart and handed him a few coins for the ride.  "Have a good day."

"You too ma'am," he gruffed slightly, turning his steed around with a crack of the reins without another thing said.

Rynkura watched him leave before making sure she had all of her supplies.  The pack with her things, and satchel that carried her potions for travel...she didn't bother to bring a sword this time.  What could be so dangerous about a party, after all?  However suspicious it seemed.  Her staff was as good a weapon as anything, and the hidden angel trusted her magic.

Wrapping her cloak around herself, the tigress started walking until she saw tracks...and then, up ahead, a building next to the tracks.  The look of the place was something depressing in the background of damage done by that last winter...but the sign was clear when she saw it.  Damaske Station.  It looked lonely, but when her sharp hearing picked up the sound of a train somewhere off, it was a good sign that it wasn't a ghost town she was in.

Well, good.  Now maybe I can find some information around here on where the party would be...the castle, best guess.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel excused herself from the cabin with a bow and a murmured excuse about checking on the staff's progress with the preparations to disembark. Grandmother in an irritable mood was more than anyone could stand for long. In the normal course of events going to parties put the family matriarch in a good mood, she loved to wheel and deal with those who wanted to buy or sell information in an elegant setting. But this time was different.

She stopped and watched the servants scurrying about. They knew more about the preparations than she did. Her idea of packing was stuffing half her apartment into a portable dimension, which didn't require all this fuss. She wondered what the rest of the occupants of the train had made of the four private cars with the armed guards.

The small white dragon heard the conductor announcing they were pulling up to the station. She took two wraps from one of the servants rushing past and entered LL's cabin. "We have arrived, grandmother."  She helped the older dragon on with her fur and velvet cape before putting on her own cold enchanted wrap. It was spring and one couldn't trust when an unexpected warm snap might make the weather unpleasant.

[SpottedKitty]

Near the back of the train, a tall muscular lioness stared out of the window at the snow-covered landscape. She sat at her ease, although the seat, carefully designed to fit the body of an average-sized-and-shaped Being (and hence really comfortable to almost no-one) seemed to be much too small for her. Clothed in leather and silk in various shades of red and black, she radiated an air of strength and self-confidence. She wasn't visibly armed, but anyone with the right kind of experience would soon realise just from watching her move that she had more than one weapon close at hand... somewhere.

The lioness looked thoughtful for a moment, her tailtip twitching about her ankles, then she leaned back and pushed her unruly mop of fiery red hair back from her face. She reached into a pocket in her jerkin and pulled out a letter, seemingly made from a single sheet of folded card, and read it again.

Andrace of the Kithara,
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February

All right then: setting aside the fact that the letter had simply appeared at her family's home estate of Mytilene, without anyone in the entire household noticing it actually being delivered, so far everything fitted what she'd been told to expect. Andrace wasn't often in a situation where she could dress herself up: for the occasion, she'd pulled out all the stops. Carefully packed away in the backpack pushed behind her seat was her best formal dress, together with a few useful items supplied by her sister Despina, the family's mage. She'd even hunted through every dress shop she came across until she found a mask close enough in style to the dress.

The train shouldn't be too far from Damaske Station by now. Andrace wondered who else would be there. The Scarlet Masque had a reputation for grandeur and spectacle, among the guests as well as the entertainment. At least one guest would be no surprise: she'd seen the private cars further up near the front of the train, and no-one could have missed the dragon flying briefly alongside the train on several occasions before landing back on one of those luxurious private cars.

"Andrace, m' girl, y're goin' up in th' world," she murmured quietly to herself. "Long as it ain't too high, wi' a bit o' butterfingered scaly help..."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Somewhere in Erewhon, a few weeks ago

Tim sighed. Watching Rover was a blast, most of the time, but every so often, he'd do something... and they'd both end up in the doghouse. Like... when they were, ah, showing the flag, as it were, while the local town mayor opened up a new street, Rover had decided to use him as a chew toy. Not exactly good public relations. Or the time they'd been up north, and Rover had decided to go sledding. Using the town's new barn as a sled. Or...

She shook her head. And then, shortly afterwards, they'd wind up here. In the back end of nowhere, doing nothing of importance, out of the way, where they couldn't hurt anyone. Especially anyone in arms length.

Mostly because there wasn't anything living, other than trees, and possibly some of the rocks, inside of a couple of hundred kilometres. If not more. When you were Rover's size, you needed some space, sure, but this was ridiculous. And, once more, she sighed, and flipped one wing up, out of the way, so she could see what her charge was up to.

Attempting to befriend a rock. Or at least chat it up a little. And it wasn't even one of the sentient ones. A pretty rock, and shaped a little bit like a reclining gryphon, but just a rock.

Right.

She sighed again, and covered her eyes with her wing, again. Lovely. Pouting and moping for another three or four months, then. By which time, he might have figured out why the lady wasn't talking to him.

At about that point, she realised that Rover had changed his mind. Or at least his target; with an almighty heave, he had thrown himself into the air, warbling joyously about some "pretty lady"; as a side effect, the entire landscape had bounced, and Tim found herself unceremoniously airborne. Rather than dive face-first into the rock she had been moping on, she took to the wing and shot off after her partner.

Attaining some height, and diving down to land on his back, she managed to grab his collar, almost levitate up to his ear, grab it, and shout "NO! FRIEND!" into it, just before he reached the post-gryph. Since this confused him to the point he forgot how to fly, she promptly took to her wings, and hovered, accompanied by the post-gryph, while Rover made a big, confused, Rover-shaped hole in the ground, several hundred feet below them.

She looked at the other gryph. "Er, sorry about that. He gets a little.. er... yeah."
The post-gryph laughed. "Think nothing of it, happens all the time. Anyway, your post."

He handed over a small red, and a slightly larger white, letter, waved, and flapped off, leaving Tim to ponder who'd be sending them mail. After all, almost all the people who knew they were here would be aware that Rover would probably eat, possibly maul, or otherwise cuddle the post-gryph out of two lifetimes. And all of them would rather they both stayed here until some more opportune time. Like the heat-death of the universe...

She floated down to where Rover was getting his feet sorted out, and figuring which ones were still attached to him (all of them, but it took him a little while to count them, what with running out of toes on his feet until after he'd figured out one of the feet was his, first...) and landed on a nearby rock to read the mail.

The red one looked important, and interesting, but the white one, whilst neither, looked to have come from her boss, so she started with that one.

Tim,

Don't (here an unreadable, yet understandable, smudge) it up for everyone. Try to keep him from eating anyone. Don't make any diplomatic problems.

Oh, and if you do? Don't come back. Either of you.

Short, and to the point, and full of all the love and warm tender care she'd come to expect. She put it away, and turned to the red one, hoping it might make things clear.

Timothy Weaver & associate
You are both Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February


Oh. Well, that could be fun. She turned it over, and on the other side was written (in a smaller size, but by the same hand:


Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
For you Both


... and a tiny smudge, that, if you looked at it, just right, looked like a smiley face. And not a very nice one, either.

She looked at the note. And across at Rover. Formal dress? In his size? And a mask? She blinked. She looked back at the note. It had to be kidding. Seriously. Absolutely had to be...

Surely?


February First, Damaske Railway Station

As the train neared Damaske station, a small dot in the far distant sky grew somewhat larger, then expanded, rapidly, into an incoming Gryphon. With a wave of debris, and a thump that shook snow off the trees on the far side of the village, Rover back-winged into the field next to the station, and folded his wings. A small, but insistent, voice, attached to the hand that was attached, rather firmly, to his left ear, shouted "SIT!"

He sat. More snow fell.

"STAY! I'll be back in a few minutes, ok? Stay!" Tim paused, watching his eyebrows almost cross, waiting for the thought to reach the other window.

And waited.

And waited.

And.... there it went. Rover's eyebrows lifted in comprehension, his huge face smiled, and he promptly lay down, dropping Tim off his ear and into a snowdrift under his nose.

"Pfah!" Tim clambered out of the drift, spat snow, and shook herself off, then patted the enormous beak in front of her. "Good boy. Wait here." Before wandering off to find the station manager, and organise where to pick up the outfit they'd put on the train at the other end of the line.

[techmaster-glitch]

Somewhere underground, near Damaske Castle

   Under the surface, with no light whatsoever, a giant orange-brown metal machine tore its way through the earth with ease, excavating its own tunnel with a large drill for one hand and a spiked grinding wheel for the other. The pilot inside, for there was a pilot, directed the mech towards his destination, still unsettled that he was making the journey in the first place. The destination was very remote (for Insectis), as there were no hive-cities or transport tunnels anywhere in this region. For a brief moment, his thoughts flew back to his home, on a day that was like any other, except it had quickly turned into the beginning of this unprecedented escapade...

Three days ago, deep in the crust of Furrae

   In the hive-city of Zizidronacht, the Insectis Engineer EG-41-25, otherwise known as Karazkt, was deep in thought. He drew a few details on several complex figures on a few large canvas-like sheets affixed to the walls and a table, then moved to a large machine in the center of the room and began tinkering with it, as several other Insectis pondered the same problem. The design for a new experimental engine model was giving him some trouble, as it was a radically new concept engine. In theory, it was supposed to have a large increase in output and efficiency, but so far in practice, it was difficult to even get the thing running.
   As he and the other Engineers toiled, another Insectis, a Communicator (though Messenger would also be appropriate), rushed in from a side tunnel, going straight for Karazkt. Without any greeting or pleasantry, the Insectis spoke in a language of various pitched buzzing, mix with a good deal of clicking. "EG-41-25, report to the Queen's antechamber. Immediately."
   Without hesitation, Karazkt jumped up, holstered his tools, and shot off down a tunnel. However, his mind was, pardon the pun, buzzing.
   Why was his Queen calling him so urgently?

===

   The giant odd-colored mech paused in its digging. After it had stopped completely, there was a hiss of steam. A shallow dome on the top of the mech, same color as the rest, slid into the back, revealing the cockpit. Karazkt stood up, tools clinking on his bandolier, his pitch-black goggles currently up on his forehead, beneath the bases of his antennae. He leaned forward out of the cockpit, the engine still gently rumbling, toward the rock face he was drilling. He placed his head as close to the dirt as he could. The two long, prehensile antennae attached to the top of his head waved forward. One flashed with brown magic, then plunged into the wall, while the other rested against it. Karazkt could feel everything that was moving underground nearby, and most things on the surface even. But he wasn't interested in all that. He raised one of his hands, making a fist. It flashed with brown magic as well, and Karazkt punched the wall. He made a resounding THUD that sent a tiny shockwave throughout the earth, similar to pre-earthquake shockwaves that can't be felt by normal means. He waited as pieces of the shockwave returned to him, ignoring most of it, until there was a boom of sorts to him. There was something extremely large, dense, almost certainly made of stone, and on the surface, a good distance away but in the rough direction Karazkt had been going. It had to be his destination.
   Karazkt returned to his seat in the cockpit, the dome sliding back over as he pushed a lever. The mech roared back to life, and resumed its ravenous digging...

===

   As Karazkt passed the doors to the Queen's antechamber, they closed behind him. Karazkt moved his goggles off his eyes and up to his forehead, as there were several enchanted lights in this room. His infravision shut down, and slowly began seeing things in normal light. In front of him, facing away, was the Insectis Queen of the hive-city Zizidronacht, Nezaka.
   "Hello, Karazkt" she said, turning towards Karazkt. Her form was, like any Insectis Queen to another Insectis, perfect. She was very tall, more than twice the size of Karazkt. Her gossamer wings shimmered in a spectacular way, as her sleek carapace also shined. She too had a pair of goggles, which were likewise currently not covering her eyes.
   "Greetings, my Queen." Karazkt replied. He knew better than to ask why she had summoned him. She would reveal that to him herself, when she wanted to.
   "Tell me something, Karazkt. Have you even been to the surface?" She asked.
   Karazkt was very surprised and confused by the sudden and unexpected query. There was no way she couldn't know the answer to that! "No...my Queen. I have hardly even left the boundaries of Zizidronacht."
  Nezaka nodded. "I thought not. Yesterday, we intercepted a messenger from the surface. He bore an invitation-" One of the Queen's hands produced a red envelope, and pulled out a small sheet of surface paper from it. "-to a certain surface event." She then read from the sheet of paper, in a flawless surface language;
   "You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
   Formal Attire is Required
   A Mask is Recommended
   The 2nd of February"
   She looked up from the letter, directly to Karazkt. "The invitation, Karazkt, is addressed to you. By your designation and your name."
   Karazkt was having great difficulty digesting this information. How in Furrae could anything from the surface be connected to him?!?
   "Any ideas on how this could be?" She asked.
   "N-no...my Queen..."
   "I didn't think so." Nezaka turned away. "I am utterly confounded at how something like this could be, and that disturbs me. I suspect this might be a ploy or trap by the Goljezeph Hive, but I'm not sure. Rival hive or no, I want to know who is capable of gaining such intimate knowledge from here, how they are able to do it, and why."
   Nezaka turned back to Karazkt, and walked towards him. "This is my will: I want you to attend this 'Scarlet Masque'-" Nezaka said in the surface language, "-as the invitation states. The location is a place called 'Damaske Castle', I will give you the coordinates. You will go there, you will find out what I want to know, and you will return. Should this indeed turn out to be a trap, you know what to do."
   Karazkt's mind was still reeling a bit. "I do, my Queen. The secrets of Zizidronacht technology will not fall into the hands of a rival hive."
   "Now, in the case that there is no ill intent to this, and it is indeed a pure surfacer gathering that you have somehow been invited to, we must observe the message. 'Formal Attire'. This refers to surfacer clothing, specifically, something you would wear in a representative function, or in the presence of an important person." Nezaka glanced at Karazk't bandolier of tools. "I believe your equipment should suffice. 'Mask'. This is something that partially or completely covers your face...your goggles certainly will suffice for that. There is a Communicator in the next chamber, he will provide you with the coordinates. Depart as soon as you are able. You are dismissed."
   "Yes, my Queen."

===

   As the mech dug through the earth, Karazkt finally got close enough to Damaske Castle to pick it up with his antennae from inside the mech. He also detected thousands of small virbrations, and easily imaged them as thousands of surfacers going about in their own hive. Karazkt figured that if they were anything like Insectis, they would already have detected him and are perfectly aware of his impending arrival.
   He angled towards the surface, propelling the mech higher and higher. Finally, it broke the ground with a burst of soil. Karazkt could not see much that was distant around him through the dome with his infravision, so he made sure his goggles were secure, and pulled back the dome again. Sunlight shined down into the cockpit as the dome opened, but thanks to the goggles, none of it entered Karazkt's eyes. Looking ahead, he saw something off in the distance, but just in view; it was very large and colder than its surroundings in his infravision.
   Damaske Castle.

[Pagan]

A month before

The canid being Marko walked through the tents of the camp, his shoes crunching on the frozen snow of the early morning. Mr. Treein always eagerly awaited the day's first reports and some progress had already been made in the dawning hours. A personal letter had arrived for him as well. He entered his employer's yurt and stood. The sheep behind the desk, motioned for him and he complied, offering a greeting. "Good reports and mail for you, Mr. Treein."
Nak skimmed the reports, smiled, and said "Wonderful news indeed, Marko. Now getting that grant will be easier than ever." He paused, "Did you say there was mail for me?" The canine offered up the letter.

Nak Treein
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February

Scarlet Masque? ...The Damaske ball? He had thought for sure the winter would have stopped any festivities this spring, if the cold here helped to judge that country's season. Still... an invitation to a ball of this nature? Too good to let it pass. "Marko, thank you for bringing this letter to me. You are now promoted to the site's head chief. Do well and I can assure you a permament place amongst in my employ. I shall be gone about a month or so, take care."
Nak travelled to his estate, grabbed proper garb for the occasion, then began the journey to Damaske.

February First, in the town square beneath the castle

The carrige stopped, the driver hopped down and openned the door for his rider. The moment Nak stepped to the ground the driver was off, screaming about the cold and lunacy. Regardless, Nak had made it to his destination on time. He turned around and took in the sight. Damaske castle. Just a short jaunt to the gate left.

[Shadrok]

Woken by the conductor's announcement of their arrival at Damaske Station, Aruk raises his window's blind to see the station.

"Well I guess this is the place, not much to look at."

He says to himself as he watches people on the platform dart in and out of the fog made by the train's boilers.

Grabbing his cane he then stands and stretches, being careful not to hit any of his fellow passengers as they pass by. Once finished he then pulls out and looks at the invite he received while in Cramot's capital city of Drehmik.

Lord Aruk of the house Donzah
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February   

He then folds it back up and places it back into his pocket, then merges with the passengers as they shuffle their way off the train.

[Cogidubnus]

"So we have. Thank you, Melodie." the ancient dragon said, standing up as she pulled the cold cloth around herself a bit tighter. Her knees popped as she stood, and the matriarch paused, as though daring someone to comment before continuing. "Been sitting on this blasted thing for too long anyway. It'll be a pleasure not having to next year."
Previous statements of her immense enjoyment of the quaint mode of travel and the delightful view went unaddressed. She did pause, however, looking outside at the station for a moment, apparently in thought. She grabbed Mel's hand and patted it where it was still on her shoulder, frowning only somewhat.
"I've been some good time so far, haven't I?" she said, about as close to an apology as the aged dragon got.

She shook her head slowly, and then straightened up, turning and walking briskly for the door. It opened seemingly by itself, with several species of nondescript 'attendants' clothed in a very formal somber black waiting in the hall outside the room, along with another silver-scaled dragon in green carrying a clipboard. That one shuffled on his feet nervously, occasionally glancing out of the corner of his eye and muttering - a very obviously tense looking dragon. As soon as LL entered the room, however, his attention glued itself on her, standing at the ready with pencil poised.

"Will the madam be staying in the Castle, or in the town's accommodations? I've taken the liberty of reserving the royal suite in the local house of lodging, but the reservations can of course be canceled at madam's wish-"
"The hotel will be fine, Walter." she said coolly, sweeping by the assorted group. They waited politely for Mel to follow before forming a closed circle around the dragoness and her granddaughter. The train door also opened seemingly by itself, two of the black-clad dragons exiting first before LL stepped down, followed by Mel and then the rest of the retinue. The weather it seemed was taking a turn for the worse - the sun was shining just a bit more, having found a hole in the normally impenetrable grey clouds. Snow crunched loudly beneath all of their feet, LL already making a beeline for the coach pool. Walter hurried ahead, nearly dancing on his feet as he tried to keep up with the fast-moving clan leader.
"Aha, over there, mistress." he said, jotting down something on his pad. A finely gilt coach stood where he pointed, a man in blank livery and with a kind face waiting for all of them. He blew on fingerless gloves and waved at them, holding the reins in one hand.

"Aha, wait." she said, pausing, and making the rest of the dragons nearly jerk to a stop. "In the last car, there." LL said, turning. "There should be a lioness. Big girl, one of the Kithara. Assassin group or somesuch. Send her up when we get settled. I'd like to see her." she said, smiling, and then continuing on to her coach.
Although she said it to no-one in particular, Walter simply nodded, scribbling furiously, and himself nodding quickly at one of the black-clad guards. The guard, in turn, acknowledged this airily, and turned around, heading for one of the rear cars at a measured pace.

LL's private car fairly bustled as luggage was unloaded, to of course be brought later, and living arrangements and instructions were solidified. It was likely the ancient dragon had rented out an entire floor of the hotel for her stay - hopefully there would be enough room for all the other travelers arriving.

* * *

Despite the discomfort of the seat, the view Andrace had of the city was fantastic. The little village was everything she had heard of and more - a collection of curio shops and bakeries and hotels, all colored an eye-soothingly beige with colorful highlights of wood on the framing and the steep-angled roofs. Dusted with snow, the place looked like a wonderland, even though it was practically as far into the sticks as one could get.
  In the distance where mountains stood stark and crisp against the skyline, the figure of Damaske Castle itself stood tall and imposing, with tall spires and towers set majestically against the backdrop of the ever-present mountains. A snowcovered forest surrounded them too - the dead-stick trees had seemed a poor choice to plant next to the rails, but other than that, evergreens dusted with snow surrounded them - providing a strange, serene peacefulness. For a moment.

Her attention had been drawn to the gathering of dragons on the front car, of course. To her dismay, the one in grey surrounded by the crowd of other dragons had turned and nearly pointed at her, for some reason - and now, a very tall, burly-looking white fox in a monkey suit was walking casually but quite directly towards her.

* * *

If Rynkura was looking for directions, help didn't seem to be far away. A veritable multitude seemed to be disembarking from the train, nearly clogging the small station with bodies, and locals were beginning to gather around them as well. Over near where several coaches and horses were waiting, and then somewhere less conspicuous a few teams of rickshaws, several men seemed to be simply waiting for people to approach. Even if they wouldn't give her directions outright, they'd probably take a coin or two and give her a ride there anyway.
As she stood there and contemplated, however, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. As her gaze slid to the side, she noticed that a very large eyeball was staring back. Crouched down in the snow like it was, already itself covered with a light dusting, it was almost possible to miss the huge, massive gryphon watching her and grinning stupidly as it did so.

* * *

Tim had managed to catch the station manager before the trains arrived, and was thus able to catch him just before he locked himself in his private office with the bottle of scotch to wait out the impending rush. They'd discussed where her package was to be taken - namely to the only inn in town that also featured a complementary stable, and then business had been concluded. Getting back, however, was a bit tricker, and the little gryphon found herself fighting the crowds before finally emerging, only a little battered, from the station.
Things did not seem to be going very well in her absence. Rover was getting into a staring contest with some white tiger in a bad dress, and some hapless traveler being used as a squeaky toy didn't seem to be exactly what her boss had in mind when he said "No diplomatic incidents'.

* * *

Karazkt was too stressed to notice that the stone echo he heard was a little deeper than it should have been, but regardless, the trip to the surface now was short indeed. Soon, the little insectis would see that great ball of fire in the sky, and feel the wind on his face.
Perhaps it was the stress and thoughts of these things that made him fail to notice a pocket of something located far beneath even the foundations of the castle. As deep as it was, though, it was likely just a limestone pocket formed long ago. Underground springs were common here.

* * *

The Castle reared impressively before the demon. Massive wrought-iron doors stood before him like the gates of heaven, intricately carved and worked with figures of angels and demons in some grand, epic battle, with armies clashing and blood running. He might have been less impressed to learn the gates were really of oak, the iron really colored brass, and the scene was changed every year. Even so.
The door seemed to be scarred as well. One of the little figures was missing a head. Nak leaned forward just a bit to get a better look, before realizing something else. The door had no knockers.
He waited a little while, fidgeting, and thinking that besides his invitation, he wasn't really sure how to get in the castle at all.

* * *

The Badger watched the sheep outside fidget for a moment before scuttling off. Somehow moving quickly without changing his pace or stride, he made his way to the scullery, where he found a certain frog shoveling potato peelings into a bucket. He grabbed the shovel without introduction, pointing in the general direction of the front gate.
"You!" he said, gesturing sharply. "We have a guest. If you would be so kind, please...take care of it. Check the invitation, make sure he isn't lost. He looks..." the badger sniffed. "Early. Third floor room, if you please. I'd do it myself, of course, but I'd much rather...you do it. Got to teach you something, eh?" he said, giving the frog a companionable pat on the shoulder as he set his shovel aside. "The potato peelings will be waiting when you're done, after all."

* * *

The crowd was nearly stifling, and Aruk found himself fighting for simply a place to stand. The luggage car was the real mess, but if he hurried, he might be able to get some sort of transportation before everyone else absconded with the carriages and rickshaws.

[e_voyager]

New years night in the room of an less the reputable inn on the out skits of a powerful county.

Aten walked into his room. suddenly the hackles on his neck rose. something was different. his eyes looking around his and he saw there laying on the desk. The envelope was red and seemed to be fabric. he approached it and then checked the rest of the room. there did not seem to anyone in here with him. still who knew he was here? he even gave the innkeeper a fake name. maybe it was for someone who really has the name he gave him only one way to find out though this rankled high of intrigue and family secrets maybe even magic. he read the letter removing any doubt that it was intended for him.


Aten Valmont trader and wander
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February   

there was no choice. he would go.


weeks later January 30th he found himself walking into Damaske. he could have taken the  train but he's rather not draw attend to himself so soon. he would spend the next day or two trying to find out about this ball.

February 1st. the day had arrived and Aten had learned nothing concrete.  He walked to the train and stood in the shadows donning formal cloak his spare safely tucked away with his mask. as he watched the train arrive and others started to gather as they left it. most striking was the pair of dragons. Perhaps a mother and daughter. he still wasn't all that familiar with dragons and he had not spent much time with 'uncle' Eliander even after the claim of family kinship was proven. he sort of scared Aten and he was always  surrounded by and aura  of heat.

Aten looked at the arrivals and there were others that caught his eye but he return the to the dragons over and over again. Still with so many wearing formal attire here he could only assume that they were all here for the same reason.  he'd wait for a while and see who came to pick up the guest. and if no one came well he'd decide what to do then.

(date error. sorry about that)

[Azlan]

A month prior: Xe'Pharion City


Fine red wood doors slowly swung open without even a hint of sound.  A touch hint of cinnamon and mint drifted in with the tiny air disturbance caused by the opening of the doors. 

Kiet's nose twitched slightly as his gaze lifted from his cup of shiny tea to lock with the regal, auburn vixen who had just entered.  "Good morning mother, I hope you are well."

"I am very well Kiet.  I am dreadfully sorry for having dragged you away from your vacation dear."  The unmistakable note of apology in her voice, the drooping tail and ears gave further sincerity to Illura's words.

Kiet shook his head waving off the apology, "do not worry mother, Malyka wanted to tour all the supposed sites in Furrae before the start of the next semester.  He has an odd sense of male bonding rituals, but it is far more interesting then clubbing and drinking one's self into a stupor like many beings seem to do.  He will do just fine without me."

The vixen drifted to the couch that Kiet sat upon and took the spot next to him.  She opened her hand, within was a letter which she handed to Kiet.  "this arrived just a few days ago and it is addressed to you."

"Interesting, I wonder why it was not delivered to my office at the academy?  No matter, it looks to be an invitation of some sort."  The ringtail said, rather curious as to what it contained.  Breaking the wax seal, he opened the card stock letter and read it aloud.

Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February   


"The Scarlet Masque?  That occurs in Damaske, I would have thought the harsh snows would have put that to end until the weather improved... but why me?  Surely they would have selected you to attend mother, not me."

Smiling slightly she shook her head, "matters of state would keep me from attending, you shall be Xe'Pherion's ambassador."

Kiet's tail swished briefly before he responded, "I suppose I will mother."

Illura thought out loud, "perhaps I should send the captain of the guard with you for protection?"

"There is no need, a formal party such as this is typically a social event, it should be relatively safe."  Kiet waved off her offer.  "I shall depart in a few weeks."


A few weeks later...

Of all the available methods of travel, Kiet had decided to take the train.  He was very uncomfortable with traveling in the flying machines of beings, but the train was still upon the ground and much more soothing to his ears.  Kiet could have used Xi his Warp ACI, but such a thing might have caused offense or be considered rude.

His mother had made all the arrangements, having secured a private car for him with full service food and fully furnished suite.  She had even sent a handful of minor retainers to handle luggage and any other functions of a servant that Kiet might need.

The ringtail gazed out at the cold, snowy landscape and wondered what had caused such unfortunate weather in this area of the country.  As he pondered, a call for the Damaske station was heard.  Kiet readied himself to disembark, and his small retinue prepared his luggage. 

Kiet set foot upon the wooden deck of the station, sinking slightly into the snow that covered its surface.  He gazed about, "hopefully we can secure a carriage to the castle."

[Boog]

"Oh good, I'd hate for them to get lonely," Jeremiah joked as he brushed himself off and tossed his apron to the side. Again, just a split second too long before the badger smiled. The frog sighed, "Right. On it." Really, compared to his other coworkers he didn't mind the badger so much, as the man was too poor a liar for it to really count as such. You could always trust the first thing out of the man's mouth, whether or not he intended for you to.
On his way to the door Jeremiah checked out the window to get a look at the man waiting downstairs and winced. Fah, demon. The frog wouldn't really call himself a racist, not really, as it shouldn't count as racism when it's based on the race's actual governmental policy, but when all he knew about an individual was that they were a creature he wasn't always inclined to like them much. Individuals were fine, but the group irked him.
No reason to let that wreck his day or mine though. Best see him in...
Orrrrr be as rude to him as you can get away with! You're the help at a big castle, you can get away with being snooty.
Oh shut up.
Don't pass up this golden opportunity to be an ass! You know you want to!
One floor and the main gate's thirteen locks later Jeremiah was opening the door just in time to be distracted by Bal's last second bark of Acrazydouchebagsayswhat! Thus, rather than the professional-sounding 'welcome to Damaske castle, sir!' he'd had in mind, it came out more as "Erm, hey. You're early." The frog recovered quickly, "That is to say, you're early for the ball. If that's what you're here for." He held out one slender-fingered webbed hand, "And if it is, may I get a quick look at your invitation please, sir?"

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura had waited patiently outside on the train station's platform, her countenance covered with the hood of her cloak.  The engine she heard appeared on the tracks over the horizon, and pulled into the station with a good many people stepping off after a pause...including, to a slight surprise, dragons.  She smiled slightly...more than likely there was going to be quite a menagerie showing up at the ball.

She watched the excitement pass for a few more minutes before looking around for some transportation to where she figured was appropriate...and there they were, a few good carriages waiting to take anyone where they needed to go.  The Healer had a few extra coins, so surely that would be a good choice.

But she didn't take more than two steps before her thoughts were interrupted...fairly forcefully...by the misfortune of meeting a giant gryphon's gaze.

Instantly, the tigress froze, watching it right back.  She was at the moment unable to know what to make of the situation.  She knew these creatures were considered very dangerous...so why hadn't it reduced the station yet to rubble, or charged the train?  It was simply lying its gargantuan bulk within the small snow drifts.  Still...so long as it had something to watch instead of some other innocent...

"Well, hello..." the Healer said, in a calm voice, while she slowly sidled past the beast.  She wasn't unprepared for what it might do, either.  Her right palm was starting to glow and crackle behind her back, just in case.  "Do not mind me, I'm just passing..."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Rover turned his head one way, looking down at the white tigress through one eye, then the other way, looking out of the other. He blinked, the massive eyelid blowing snow past Ryn, then leaned forward, and, ever so gently, and delicately, sniffed.

A look of deep thought passed over his face. Slowly.

He reared back, and looked down at the comparatively miniscule tigress at his feet. His wings flapped out, and a look of unholy glee flowed across his features. He bounced, shaking yet more snow off the trees, and leapt forward.  In the background, a dopplering cry of "Oh, shiiiiiiiii-" could be heard heading towards the pair of the, before the descending beak stopped, no more than a couple of feet from Rynkura.

"Kitty!" A huge tongue rolled out, and went to swipe one side of the white tigress from feet to head. However, just at that instant, Tim went bulleting between them, and slapped directly into the tongue. Rover's head was spun to the side, and Tim ended up in a snowdrift, coated in slobber.

"Gah! Ew! Dammit, Rover - I was clean. Pfft!" Tim spat out snow - again - with an aggrieved tone, and attempted to scramble free.

Rover, meanwhile, was trying to spit out the taste; he reared back and wiped at his tongue with both front paws, then took a bite of snow, and spat it out. At the remonstration, he looked forlorn, and leaned down to fish Tim out of the snowdrift by the back of her top, and placed her back on a fairly clear stretch of ground, somewhere near the tigress. He licked Tim, in an apologetic sort of way, and looked miserable - about like a puppy that's been kicked, albeit a 40 foot tall one.

"Kitty fetch?" he asked, in deep, hopeful tones.

"NO! For the love of god, no!" Tim looked horrified. She glanced over at the white tigress, and urged "Whatever you do, do not say.. ah... do not agree. You see, he'll use you as the stick..." She turned back to her charge, and continued. "Maybe later, ok? Right now, we have to get the box."

"Oooo! Okay!" Rover perked right up, and bounced again, enthusiastically.

Tim climbed out of the snowdrift, sighed, spat yet more snow out, and shook herself off. Today was shaping up to be just peachy. "Okay, Rover. Now wait here for a few minutes while I talk to Miss.. er.. Kitty here." This with an apologetic glance over her shoulder at the tigress. "Okay?"

"Okay." Rover sighed, bending the trees on the other side of the clearing over, and settled down to watch Tim talk to the "Kitty", the huge head following the two of them like he was at a tennis match.

Tim watched him settle, then nodded, and turned to Rynkura. With a deep bow, and a quick little straightening of her feathers, she addressed the tigress. "Er... hi. I'd like to say it's a great honour to represent our race, but with this big lump, I'm afraid it's more a case of covering up for him. Having said that, let me introduce us. I am Tim, and this is Rover." The slight rising tone at the end indicated some curiosity to the white tigress' own name and aim, but the look on her face suggested she wouldn't be at all surprised to not even be given a name, let alone any other information. That sort of thing happened a lot. "We're here for the Masked Ball, for my sins, and we have a small package to go get off the train."

Some way over her head, Rover was working his way through the sentence, and frowned a bit at the "big lump" comment. Given enough time, he might even catch up...

[Pagan]

At the door, Nak was beginning to wonder how to get into the castle and was being tempted to just enter in
proper demonic fashion by bashing through the door. But then a frog being openned the gate was and solved his proplem. Obviously a servant, if rather flustered, he asked for Nak's invitation. "Yes, I suppose I am a day early for the ball." The sheep reached into his robe and brought out the red letter. "My invitation," as Nak handed it to the being.
Nak thought again on why he had been invited. He was pretty well known around archaeological circles, but he hadn't gotten involved with nobility. Again, he came to the conclusion that he should be thankful for the opportunity, and be polite with anyone involved.

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura hoped that she would be able to just move past the mighty gryphon, and to get out of there without trouble.  She could tell by the curious look in its large eyes that its intention wasn't to hurt anyone, but with such a large creature, one was never sure.

However, it didn't look like she was going anywhere.  The Healer stopped moving when it leaned its head in, and she could hear the echoing intake of breath as it sniffed the tigress...and contemplated what to do with her.  The glow in her palm didn't yet fade.

And then, suddenly, it was lunging with its tongue lolling out like a very large dog's straight toward her.  Rynkura made a quick leap back as soon as it did, using her staff as a shield and going into a defense stance.  If it was going to use her as a chew toy, then it would learn not to...

FWUMP!

Her eyes widened.  Something else had rushed in with a good amount of speed, in an attempt to get between herself and the giant gryphon.  Rynkura let the glow in her palm fade, stepping back a little and regaining her own composure as the smaller gryphon scolded her...pet, it seemed.

When finally the situation was under control, the tigress listened with a less-than-amused look in her face, before making a polite bow of her own head, pulling back her cowl.  "I'm Rynkura.  Rynkura Msh'taan.  Good to make your acquaintance...both of yours," she added with a slight glance to Rover as she brushed some sprayed snow off of her arm.  "Certainly an interesting way to greet someone, scaring the wit out of them...still I do thank you for interceding."

The tigress then hummed, tilting her head just slightly as she glanced back to Tim.  "Ah, you're here for the Ball too?"  The question sounded as if she was disbelieving of the notion, but nevertheless she has known of stranger situations.  A friendly smile crossed her face.  "Then you wouldn't happen to know in which direction it is being held, perchance.  I just arrived here a while ago."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim smiled uncertainly. "Pleased to meet you. Er, we only just arrived ourselves. I was going to ask at the inn, once we get our package and get there. You're welcome to come along, unless you've already organised somewhere to stay tonight?" At Rynkura's nod, she nodded back, then turned to the gryphon behind her, and waved a paw. "Up, Rover."

Rover got up. So did a fair amount of the snow around them, briefly, before cascading off his paws and over Tim. Fortunately, it missed Rynkura.

"Pfah. *sigh* Okay, Rover. See the train over there?"

Rover looked in the wrong direction, chirped affirmative, and leapt up to fly off.

"Oh, not again. Mistress Msh'taan, wait here a sec, please - I'll be as quick as I can." And with that, Tim raced off after Rover, hauled him around in a big, swooping arc, and shouted "THAT TRAIN, YOU GREAT, DAFT, WUMPUS!" into that handy ear again.

Followed shortly afterwards by a sequence of "NO! NOT THE ENGINE!", "MIND THE WATER TOWER!", "LEAVE THAT ALONE!", and "YES, THAT PACKAGE THERE. GOOD BOY.", interspersed with mutterings and imprecations, and the odd disgruntled squawk as Rover pulled an unexpectedly tight turn or two.


Shortly after that, Rover and Tim returned, the former carrying a 20ft container in his paws like a little boy with his daddy's favourite electric train set. Setting it down gently in the clearing (the result of a good few weeks of training, and some serious resultant hoarseness on the part of Tim), he stood over it carefully. Sadly, the majestic effect was somewhat ruined by Tim rolling forwards off his head and landing with a splat at Ryn's feet, barely impeded by the frantic flapping on the way down.

Pulling her frayed dignity to herself as she rose to her feet, Tim shook herself off, and looked at Ryn. "Ah... would you like a lift? We won't drop you... probably..."

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace had enjoyed the view of the town of Damaske as the train slowed on its approach to the station. She really ought to make time to explore before leaving, after the Ball was over: there probably wouldn't be time to do much beforehand, with everyone busy with the preparations for tomorrow. When the train conductor announced their imminent arrival at Damaske Station, the lioness stood, bracing her paws against the swaying of the carriage. She stretched, arching her back and wriggling to get a kink out of her tail root, only needing to duck once to avoid hitting her head on the low — to her — ceiling. The train slowed to a halt. She fished her backpack out from behind her seat, slung the strap over one shoulder, and went out onto the platform.

The lioness stood beside the carriage for a few moments to get her bearings. Further along the train, the unloading of both people and luggage from the private cars was rather chaotic. Through it all, she could hardly miss the dragons. Two of them, obviously the ones in charge, with a not so small crowd of attendants, not all dragons, surrounding them. Andrace's eyes narrowed as she saw the whole procession halt for a moment; one of the dragons had turned and... pointed her out? What would an obviously highly ranked dragon want with her, she wondered. One of the gaggle of attendants walked back along the platform towards her, a tall white fox in a plain black suit. The lioness's muzzle quirked almost into a wry smirk: he might as well have worn a hat with a flashing sign saying "guard". She stood where she was, waiting for him, still with that half-amused look on her face. "Somethin' y' want?" she asked, her voice a pleasant bass rumble as the fox stopped in front of her.

[Stygian]

The thin, compacted layer of snow crunched slightly underfoot, even as she stepped down on the platform, and the chill that seemed all-encompassing turned the train platform into a foggy blur, steam rolling off the engine and down the tracks. Yet to the white-furred, point eared bat, it did nothing to discomfort. Only to accentuate her mood. She had grown up where the climate was not far from frigid most of the year, and where winter storms drove people to huddle in cabins and houses. She never had any real trouble with cold, and could not recall ever having. Well, not without the wind driving the cold underneath one's clothes, at least.
   'Miss. Your luggage?' A thickly clad porter, standing by a trolley, his hat sitting ill on his sloping white rabbit's ears, looked up at her. And gasped, when she turned and laid her gold-irised, deep black eyes on him.
   'I'll take it myself, thank you', she said, not without an air of gratitude, but with a firmness and distance that fit her appearance. Black boots, a long white fur-lined coat, thin white pants that hugged her legs snugly under her skirt and an egg-white jacket underneath, she had about a hand on the rabbit in height, and an air of power about her. Then again, if it wasn't her face that made people turn, it was the eyes. One was the effect of her race, the other probably of her heritage. She had gotten used to both, and to compensating for them, when needed.
   Taking her white bag from the lapine, its weight obviously being less of an issue to her than him, she had barely turned and walked away before his eyes fogged over, looking confused, and he turned and bent to help a feline woman and her daughter with their luggage, ignoring her completely. Running her hand quickly through her short, ruffled white hair, the bat sighed, and passed a befuddled lioness and a fox, heading for the station house, watching advertisements and looking for a place to get a hot drink while she ignored the chatter around. She had wanted to drive up, but the roads that weren't blocked were perilous nonetheless. And it would have been a long drive just to leave a classic car standing, possibly without cover, in the cold. With so little to carry, that would have been dimwitted. She wasn't on a skiing trip. Still, she might have to look out for a horse carriage or a taxi to take her to this castle. It was one of the times that she wished that she had an Aci.
   She had heard of the town before, but not as anything remarkable or important. Great vacation resort, but only for those who could bear with the weather, and stomach the price. It hosted excellent glacier skiing and powder snow, and a number of festivals and events. Such as what she had been invited to. Though even the initial glimpse of the town, the old and beautiful architecture, the only mildly cloud-streaked sky over the silhouette of tall mountains and the icy sculptures for trees, all surpassed her expectation of the place's beauty, that still unsettled her.
   It was insane that someone could locate her well enough to send a letter directly to her address. To the man she had been masquerading as, yet still with her name on it. It was beyond that, even. It was frightening.

[Shadrok]

Once off the train and after a quick, all be it crowded, trip to the luggage car Aruk found himself looking for a ride into town. After spotting the carriages he makes his way to them. Along he notices two grypons talking to a white tigress .

"Creatures." he says to himself shaking his head as he walks past.

Once at the carriages he picks one pulled by a white horse and tells the driver to take him to the hotel in town, the driver simply tips his hat and gives a quick snap of the rains.

As the carriage bounces along Aruk thinks back to what Command had told him before leavening Drehmik.

"Remember Belgae is still an integrated realm and there will be creatures there, and it is this that you must remember. You will be our representation to Belgae so you are not to attack any creature unless attacked by them. Nor should you provoke them into attacking you."

With a sigh and a hand to his face he looks out from the carriage on the snow covered landscape as it passes by.

"Shame they wouldn't let me fly here that field over there would have made a nice runway, but no they said Belgae is a no fly zone for us. Shame really, would have been fun."

[Boog]

Jeremiah took the invitation with a flourish and scrutinized it closely, in a way that (he hoped) gave the impression that he was checking it over for the most minute chance of forgery. His actual train of thought was Yep, that's an invitation all right.
Excellent, Holmes!
Shaddap.
"Everything seems to be in order..." He handed the invitation back to Nak with a smile. "Simply follow me sir, we fortunately have some guest rooms prepared up on the third floor." The being stepped aside to let Nak in and bowed, in the manner of one who didn't take bowing seriously but figured they may as well try to be accomidating.

[Aisha deCabre]

Rynkura hummed in thought when Tim replied, that they had only gotten there themselves as well.  That was believable, certainly; the train by then had just about emptied, so everyone was just getting there.  When she asked to be excused, the tigress nodded and watched the gryphon rush off to tend to their package.

Watching her try to maneuver Rover however proved a little less than perfect...Rynkura couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head slightly as her ears picked up everything from the shouted commands to the disgruntled squawks from the beast.  She also wondered just how many people were panicking at the sight of it nearby, if they were.

But finally, they had managed to pick up their package from the train...a pretty big container, in fact.  The landing was less than graceful, and the tigress took a step back when Tim returned in a harsh landing in the drifts at her feet.  Rynkura looked about to help her up, if she hadn't gotten up herself.

And at the offer to come with them and get a lift, she glanced between the two gryphons with her head tilted.  An amused, but nevertheless polite smile crossed her face.  "I would enjoy a lift, thank you.  And do not worry about dropping me...I have flown before, and can handle heights fairly well.  I just hope that I wouldn't be too much extra weight for your Rover."

As Rynkura turned and started to walk towards where the creature waited with the package, she added to herself with a slight grin, it would be nice to not part with my extra coins on a carriage ride anyway.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Tim nodded. "Okay, well, we'll see you there." She blinked, and looked a bit stunned. "Wait. You said yes? Nobody's ever said yes before. Uh..." She looked up at Rover, then back at Rynkura; specifically, her apparent lack of wings. "Er." And then back at Rover. "Um. We'll have to figure something out."

She scratched her head, and headed towards the big Gryphon, at the tigress' side. "I spose we could put you on the container. It's either that, or hang on to his collar; your choice, really, but the wind will be less on the container, I think."

"As for the weight, I don't think that'll be an issue. The container is mostly packing; he can move a heck of a lot more than that." She sighed. "Usually either when he's not supposed to, or when he thinks it's a game." She addressed the giant beast. "Come on, Rover. We need to get us a bed."

Rover perked up, half opening his wings, and grabbed the container.

"Not yet! Mistress Msh'taan will be coming with us. And be careful with her." Sotto voce "Unlike me."

Rover looked puzzled, then turned his head to either side, plainly looking around for - and not finding - their passenger.

Tim put her head in her hands, muttered something semi-audibly about someone wept, and then shrugged apologetically at Rynkura, with a pained look in her eyes. "Rover? Kitty."

Rover's gaze snapped back to Ryn. He smiled, proclaimed "Kitty!", and bounced happily, then patted the top of the container, denting it slightly. Tim bowed slightly to Ryn. "He seems to like you. If I was you, I'd go with it; bad as it is, the alternatives are worse. Your carriage awaits..."

[Cogidubnus]

 As she climbed into her carraige, LL cast one last glance at the train station, and frowned. There seemed to be some sort of disturbance near the rear of the train car, where a very large Gryphon was proceeding to wrestle a train car off the tracks. The aged dragon shook her head, muttering under her breath about new standards, and ducked into the gilt box that awaited her. Her retinue placed themselves on various points of the outside, again waiting for the mistresses granddaughter to follow before closing the door and resuming their Looking Around With Humorless Stares and Talking To Their Sleeves. LL's personal luggage would be fetched later, and would take the better part of the evening to bring to the hotel. They were only making a two day trip, after all, and there was only so much two dragons needed.
They were off within moments, leaving tracks in the fresh-fallen snow as they headed for one of the larger buildings in town.

* * *

Kiet's gaze quickly fell on the rapidly dwindling pool of carraiges and rickshaws awaiting the richer travelers. It nearly seemed that he might not even be able to get a ride without waiting some time, an unpleasant proposition in the freezing-and-getting-colder train station. The ringtailed fox might have wanted to begin a brisk trot to claim some form of transportation, when he noticed another well-dressed gentlemen approaching him. A mouse being, at least a good foot shorter than Kiet, gave him a tip of his hat - the rodent was dressed in snowpants and a large overcoat, a long white scarf wrapped around his neck as well. The dirt-brown cabbie hat seemed to have seen better days, and matched the rest of his somewhat-raggedy appearance.
"Kietjer Tipallo, yeah?" he said, adjusting his scarf. He appeared to have a bit of an accent. "We were told to be lookin' fer ya - yer mother's been here before, knows the boss, normally we don't let people reserve these things, tha nobs get jealous easy, but..." he spared a glance at one of the departing carriages, adjusting his hat and shivering with from what one could only assume was the cold. "Some people do, knowwhatImean? Your mother is onea'them."

The mouse grinned, with the characteristic big front teeth. "This carraige or t'other, I said to myself, Illura's boy, he gets the special treatment. So, here I am. Aytch, at your service." He tipped his hat again, turning on his heel and dodging and weaving through the crowd towards his carriage. "This way, sir, if ya please, I'll keep th' seats warm for ya..."

* * *

The white fox managed a smile. "No ma'am. I want for nothing, ma'am." he said, managing to be warm and formal at the same time. "Ms. Icewing, though, wants to see you. Later. If you don't mind, I'll be accompanying you until she calls for you." he said, his tone clearly stating he was sure she didn't mind. He still managed to be friendly with her, though - the velvet gloves, this one.
He produced a card from his vest. "You'll be staying here." he said, handing the card over. Black gothic letters proclaimed the address and name of the Firebloom Inn, 543 Malone St.

"Expense paid, of course. Ms. Icewing is seldom unreasonable." the fox said, flashing another smile, and this time extending his hand. "The name's Horatio, miss...?"

* * *

There were stands around the station house, and a few concession stands and whatnot built into the building itself, although the small building seemed more of a stopping point than a eatery or outdoor cafe. When full, it just seemed crowded and noisy, and when empty, desolate and lonely. Elyse passed a woefully ill-thought-out iced-lemon stand, and another serving fried dough with powdered sugar, before finding someone selling hot cocoa. Out of the three, he seemed to be doing the best - another rabbit, friendly faced, and with a very obvious and poorly made glass eye. He fixed the unsettling stare on the succubus, blinking once before the ever-present grin returned.
"A dark drink for the dark eyed lady?" he said, filling a paper cup with hot chocolate quickly, adding a bit of whipped cream and a dusting of nutmeg. "Dollar-fifty a cup, it'll keep the chill from your bones while you wait for a ride." he said, still grinning, and winked his bad eye. "Between the lady and I, unless she's a Duchess, it'll be luck if she gets a carriage within the hour."

The cup steamed in his hand when the man blinked again, raising an eyebrow at something occurring behind the white-clad bat, and shaking his head slightly.

* * *

Moving quickly, Aruk had managed to find a carriage before they were snapped up, and quickly found himself brought before the tallest building in the hamlet. It wasn't saying much, of course, but the building was impressive nonetheless.
Stone steps led up to a ten-story building of black glass, with an intricate engraving a large red bloom beaconing up from the upper levels. The name, in gold letters, proclaimed it to be the Firebloom Inn, and nearly as soon as he had arrived the driver was out of his seat and pulling his luggage off the ride. The door whipped open, the driver waiting expectantly with his palm out, suitcases by his side.
"We've arrived, good sir, that'll be fifty total, if you would be so kind..."

It was apparent the driver was in a hurry to get back to the station - this was the busy season, after all, and there was many more passengers to pick up before the day was done, and much more money to be gouged.

* * *

Hidden in an alcove behind the frog and watching carefully, the Badger started at the frog with hard eyes before turning and and nodding to several figures behind him. They were carrying something large between the three of them, and at the Badger's signal they crossed the door quickly, their steps pattering into silence on the cold stone floor.

[Pagan]

Nak took the invitation and returned it beneath his robes, nodded at the frog's bow, then entered across the threshold, then paused waiting for the being to lead him to the third floor bed. The demon was pleased at the idea of having a guest room. While he had thought the hosts would provide lodgings, Nak have been planning to secure a place at one of the nearby inns.

[Aisha deCabre]

Now, Rynkura just had to chuckle at Tim's reaction to her agreement to actually ride with them.  It was certain that there weren't many Beings, or maybe even Creatures, who would want to deal with a giant gryphon.  But, the old paladin and swordswoman wasn't many Beings or Creatures.

Making sure to keep her distance until Rover accepted the idea, Rynkura nodded at the choices.  "The container will be fine, then.  I am not picky...and certainly it has to be more comfortable than...the back of a dragon, say."

Watching the giant creature, the tigress chuckled again as she approached the package.  While intimidating, she had to admit that Rover seemed to be more endearing than most of his kind.  "Well, I may count myself honored to be liked, then.  And thank you for the ride in advance," she said to them both.

With a quick movement, the "kitty" first tossed her staff up, and then leaped up after it, crouching in the "slight" dent of the container as if to brace herself.  Rynkura did well to hide her status as an angel, but there were times it was hard to hide her prowess, for there was even little to no fear in her eyes on the prospect of the flight.

[Sunblink]

Elizabeth Jyraneth had forgotten who she was.

Her current sanctuary was a dilapidated, but pleasant city situated amidst the mountainous regions - the primary residents were Beings, although they never found her presence objectionable. Granted, Elizabeth's neighbors, customers, and any other inhabitant of her particular district were blissfully unaware of her actual race. Her disguise of choice for mingling among the predominantly Being population was a Demon hyena; usually with the horns and wings unabashedly exposed. Most Cubi preferred to masquerade as Beings when in disguise, but Elizabeth found that using another Creature as her alternate identity was much simpler. Hiding as a Being for too long without arousing suspicion had its complications. There was the issue of frequently adjusting and altering selective characteristics of the body to accurately simulate age, such as graying in the hair or wrinkles around the eyes... after all, if people started to realize that fifty years had passed and their neighbor didn't look a day over twenty-five, then they'd start to understand on their own. Not to mention, Elizabeth could never recall exactly the length of a Being's lifespan. A common misconception among her clan members, one of many insidious rumors, was that they could only live for thirty years in relative safety before another Creature came along and killed them.

So Elizabeth became a Demon – the selection of disguise seemed appropriate, given the race's magical affinity. Everyone who did business with her heard the same refrain: she was a simple, pacifistic person, wanting to start a humble trade among Beings to repent for the sins of her race. A gesture, basically, illustrating the remorse she felt for the atrocities committed by her fellow Demons, and hoping to show all those who were wronged that not all Demons were evil or vicious monsters. Improving the reputation of my race is not a goal I can accomplish within a night, Elizabeth would recite automatically to first-time customers in conclusion of her story, But it is something I am prepared to work for.
   
The sincerity of such a sympathetic sob-story was never contested.

Five years passed since Elizabeth first arrived in the city and opened her business as a tailor. Everything was becoming so methodical, as though she was riding through the death throes of her former life. Everyone in her district was aware of her, and some people outside the city were starting to commission dresses and other clothing designs from her. Elizabeth was even starting to befriend Beings, a race she had treated with disdain in the past. Such behavior was only natural, given the tendencies of her clan to harvest Beings like livestock and enslave them for labor. Elizabeth even agreed to go to a Being girl's wedding, and was starting to fall victim to what could only be described as fondness. Simply unacceptable.

However, like many things - memories, unwanted thoughts, indignities upon her pride and clan she had violated time and time again - she ignored it, and let that thought float away and die.

And life danced so lonely by.

As far as anyone was concerned, Elizabeth Jyraneth had never existed.

---

A few days after Elizabeth reached this revelation, she began work on the Being girl's dress. Her wedding was still in a few months, but it was raining quite heavily outside, so this left Elizabeth with little else to do. One thing Elizabeth particularly enjoyed about her job was that she could easily work on some of her assignments at home, as she had accumulated enough materials to last her a Being's lifetime, and plenty of appropriate equipment and instruments. Not to mention, she lived on her own, so she could freely disregard her disguise and remain in her base form, allowing her to utilize her wing-tentacles so she could complete her dresses at a faster pace. This was possibly the closest interaction Elizabeth had to her base form, with the exception of the occasional sparring practice rounds in the basement. Satisfying her more visceral, natural urges, such as her periodic craving for souls, was too risky, so she remained abstinent. Denying herself of what defined a Cubi agitated her latent race-arrogance like nothing else, but she knew the consequences wouldn't be worth that momentary satisfaction.

Using two wing-tentacles to smooth the diaphanous shawl of the lustrously alabaster dress draped over her lap, Elizabeth was about to start on completing an intricate pattern decorating the dress's neck when she heard something drop through the mail slot. Bristling slightly, Elizabeth looked up, sighed, and rested the wedding dress on a nearby table before dusting herself off and ambling to the front door, her disguise automatically melting over her features. Waiting for her on the floor, just underneath the mail slot built into the door, was a plain white envelope sealed shut with a dollop of dried wax.

Elizabeth picked up the envelope and examined it. Wasn't expecting any mail today, she thought, turning the envelope over so she could look at the back. There wasn't a sender listed on the envelope, but it was addressed to the name of her disguise: Anastasia Báthory. Gingerly taking the envelope between two wing-tentacles, she purposefully held the envelope away from her as she cut open the top using a sharpened wing-tentacle, then removed the contents with yet another tendril. There wasn't anything objectionable inside, just a folded piece of paper. Elizabeth casually flipped it open, withdrawing her jackal-headed wing-tentacles back into her leathery wings.

What she read made her stop.

In meticulous, red scrawl, the simple piece of paper read:
Elizabeth Jyraneth
You are Cordially Invited to the Scarlet Masque
Formal Attire is Required
A Mask is Recommended
The 2nd of February

Elizabeth froze. Instantly, she seized the discarded envelope and frantically scanned over it, searching for any kind of sending address. She found none, even once she had practically torn the envelope to pieces and scanned it with every kind of spell, in the slim chance that the sender had masked his or her identity using some sort of invisibility charm. When all of her efforts yielded no results, Elizabeth flung the remains of the envelope into the fireplace and watched them burn, collapsing into an armchair.

How could this happen? Nobody was supposed to know that Elizabeth Jyraneth was still alive. The average Furre didn't even know that she existed. This was impossible! After a moment of horrified disbelief, Elizabeth indecisively glanced to the letter still resting on the nearby end table, then picked it up again, as though it was impregnated with a hideous acid that would incinerate her on the spot.  She read it again, this time with as much calmness as she could muster.

The letter was an invitation to some sort of celebration. Elizabeth had never heard of the Scarlet Masque before, so the fact she was invited anonymously was slightly disturbing. For a good, long while, Elizabeth perused the contents of the letter, gnawing on her thumbnail to the point it bled in her mouth. Around this time, Elizabeth sighed, and made her decision. Putting aside the letter, she started to get back to work on the wedding dress. She'd need to finish this one quickly so she could work on a formal dress for the ball.


Damaske Station:

Elizabeth arrived at the station a little later than some of the other invitees, bereft of her Demon disguise, but with head-wings and back-wings concealed. She had decided to attend the ball in her base form. She packed relatively lightly. All she required was a trunk to store some of her finer dresses, and some other necessities. Disaster, her glaive, was hidden in a pocket of darkness so it could go unnoticed by security, and be summoned at her convenience. By this point, she was quite determined to reach her destination without any issues, but if any arose then she was prepared to confront them.

At first she was somewhat unbelieving that the station was the right place, but one glance at the nearby sign confirmed her location. Elizabeth looked hesitantly at the giant Gryphon standing near the train, but ultimately resolved to ignore it, focusing on taking her luggage.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Boog]

Jeremiah closed the door and started off down the hallway. "C'mon then, this way."
As the two wound their way up the spiral staircase to the third floor the frog indulged in his favorite passtime; talking. The listener's participation would be appreciated but, ultimately, was unnecessary. "So, you got any other luggage on its way up? You from around here? Nice area, crisp northern air and all that. Great fishing spots too, but you may wanna avoid the one a couple towns over. So yeah, up this way's the rooms. Dunno if they're what you're used to, but they're fancy enough. I suppose you're free to go wherever isn't locked, but then I ain't on the senior staff so I suppose you'd be better off asking someone else. Kitchen's downstairs, there's a library on the second floor if you get bored, and your room's right here," Jeremiah came to a halt and gave a sweeping bow, indicating a nearby door. "Any questions, sir?"

[Stygian]

Either doubting or completely ignoring the view of the huge gryphon behind her, tufts of feathers looming over a nearby roof and the rest of its body obscured from where she stood, so that the station's large clock seemed to have a case of bunny ears, Elyse barely looked at the cheerful vendor, shaded eyes instead fixed on the hot chocolate as she reached over a bill. A too valuable one.
   'Mmm. That might be. But, as you said, one might be lucky', she said, her tone not suggestive but slightly nonchalant. As it should be. Blowing a little on the hot drink before raising it in both her hands to sip it, she looked at him over the edge of the steaming cup. 'And otherwise, someone else might know how to get one.' She made a little smile, then sipped again.