The Clockwork Mansion

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.

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...

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 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.

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..."

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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)

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."

"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?"

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..."

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...

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.

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."

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..."

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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..."

 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.

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.

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.

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

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?"

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.

Nak had never been around servants, especially those of nobles, but he thought that they were normally more... reserved than the chatty frog ahead of him. The ovine wondered if the being expected or even wanted an answer, considering the speed of his questions and lack of quiet between them. When finally they arrived at Nak's room, he entered and said, "No, thank you. You've given me all necessary assistance."

Stepping out of the carriage Aruk places the money in the driver's hand then picks up his two bags. As the carriage hurries back to the station Aruk looks up at the inn.
"Not bad, not bad at all." He says as he enters the inn

Almost as soon as he enters he is greeted by the inn's staff.

"Mite I ask sir, what is your name?" the innkeeper says with a smile and a clip board in hand.

"Aruk Donzah." Aruk replies

The innkeeper snaps his fingers and a feline bellhop steps to his side. Aruk immediately notices that the cat has a small set of horns.

"Take Mr. Aruk and his bags to..." but before the Innkeeper could finish Aruk stops him.

"Thank you for the gesture but I'll take my own bags, if you don't mind."

The innkeeper looks a little puzzled at Aruk but then accepts his decision.

"Very well then, show Mr. Donzah to his room on the 5th floor." The innkeeper says with a some what irritated smile.

Kiet's initial response to the mouse was merely a lopsided grin, but the chap was rather pleasant so he was quick to warm up to him.

The ringtailed cat fell in behind Aytch and at the mention of his mother he chuckled a little bit, "aye, my mother has quite an interesting list of friends and ruling her own country does get her into a lot of parties..."

In Kiet's mind, images of his mother Illura, the prime minister of Trent, a karaoke machine and lots of fire drifted through and he chuckled again.

"still I wonder why I have been invited, unlike my mother, I am merely an Academy Professor of Magic... no one important really, not anymore at any rate.  Still, it should be interesting."

As they neared the carriage Aytch had waiting, Kiet signaled to the retainers he had with him.  Their leader, a female clouded leopard Cubi, nodded and snapped her fingers at the bronze golem that carried the luggage.  The automaton morphed, rearranging its mechanical parts to form a small vehicle very much like that of a VW Type 82 Kuebelwagen.  It had only enough room for the retainers and the luggage, and now that he had transporation of his own, he wanted to make sure the others could keep up.

He turns back to the mouse, "Aytch, what can you tell me of this Scarlet Masque?  Oh, and who was that which just left there?"  Kiet pointed to the carriage which Aytch had just gave a brief glance to and then 'shivered from the cold'.

Andrace's ears perked up noticeably when the fox mentioned the name "Icewing". She glanced at the gilded confection of a coach just then leaving the station's car park. "So it's Herself, is it?" she said, half to herself. "An' one o' her relatives, looks like. 'Kay, I'll be ready whenever she wants me."

She took the card with a raised eyebrow. Nothing had been mentioned about arrangements for tonight: considering the crowds arriving just on this train (plus, she was slightly alarmed to realise, a very large Gryphon looming over the station building), she'd expected to have to hunt for a bed for the night.

She grinned cheerfully when the fox gave his name. "Pleased t' meetcha, H'ratio. Th' name's Andrace Kithara, o' th' Kithara Pride." She grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. Horatio might have been a couple of inches the taller of the two, but Andrace was possibly a little heavier, and it was all muscle, so her grip on the fox's hand wasn't quite powerful enough to dislocate any of the small bones. Before he could react to her letting go, the lioness had twirled him round and pointed him towards the remaining carriages with the aid of a friendly pat between the shoulderblades that almost made him splutter. "C'mon then, let's get t' this Firebloom Inn an' see if it's got anythin' decent t' drink!" She settled her backpack more firmly over her shoulder and strode off along the platform, kicking up the drifted snow, towing Horatio along in her wake.

Outside the station, Goss was quickly making somewhat of a scene, staring at the two armed military bodyguards outside his assigned car.

"You have uniforms on. And rifles.", Goss said to the guards, after staring at them for the better part of ten seconds.

The guards looked at each other, not knowing what Goss meant. One spoke up.

"Sir. If you wou-"

"Do I have a uniform on?", Goss interrupted, patted to his dark blue suit, and black overcoat.

"No sir. Bu-"

"I do not have a uniform on.", Goss interrupted again. "I was given very, very clear instructions to keep this low-key. I am not to state my position unless asked explicitly. I am not to wear military attire of any kind, unless I am to appear in a military function. I am under the impression that you were given the same instructions."

The guard shifted uncomfortably, as Goss continued.

"We have no relations with this nation at all. We certainly do not have any treaty stating that we may ferry in armed troops here when we please. And yet, you show up here, in a crowded goddamn public area, with clearly marked military uniforms, and carrying rifles?"

The second guard finally spoke up. "Sir, we were given specific instructions by Central Command to-"

"Typical. I assume they want the local heads to know, and they're using their most expendable to do it?" Goss shook his head, staring at the sky. "Absolutely typical, right?"

"Sir, I don't th-"

"I assume you have lodging for me?"

The first guard, finally confident of something that had been done right, spoke again.

"Yes sir, Firebloom Inn, top-notch room, all paid for. Absolute hell to get a room at that place, incidentally, sir."

"I believe it." Goss spit out a piece of tobacco on the snow below him, and stared at the scene around him for the first real time. Just as quickly, he brushed past the guards around the car door, and stepped in, the guards following after a few seconds. The car drove away, following the other cars and coaches out of the car park. A few minutes later, Goss, with his guards, arrived at the inn, Goss handing his bags to the guards.

"Take this to my room. I need some air."

The guards left, as Goss popped another piece of tobacco in his mouth. Finding no bench, he simply sat on the curb, staring at the coaches at they arrived and departed, checking out of mere curiosity for anyone, or anything unusual.

 Aruk's trek through the the hotel revealed that the place was much nicer than one might have expected. The black, glass doors parted to reveal deep-colored rosewood steps that led up onto the floor proper of the hotel. Evergreens and early-flowering plants covered everything, some placed in troughs that provided pathways throughout the first floor, and others simply hanging from the ceilings or growing on the walls themselves, purple-flowering ivy that spiraled up the the wooden walls until, high above, they reached the true ceiling of the place. It was built atrium-style, with each floor open the one below it in the center, with only air from the floor to roof. If one craned their neck very high, a glass mural of a rose could be seen, painted high above. Glass railings ringed around each floor, and from the bottom, it was impossible to see more than a few people milling about, and vague, indistinct shapes of the beginnings of hallways and the occasional picture.

The first floor itself, however, excepting for a few troughs of flowers to provide definition, was largely open. Secreted to the right was the check-in desk, with a few people in-line and busily claiming reservations already. A bit past that was a sitting area, with a huge stone fireplace roaring warmly. Every now and again, a ember would pop into the air, giving the vaguest shape of a bloom before it faded. Leather armchairs and animal skins provided most of the seating arrangements. To the left, tucked behind a veritable wall of flowers and glass, was the hotel bar and restaurant. It seemed to be doing a brisk business, with dozens of patrons already dining and drinking, from white-clad stoats to black-clad wolves.

There was magic in this place. The enchantments alone, to keep flowers alive in this climate and season, and to provide the subtle illusions near open flame, must have cost a fortune.

The elevators were elegant, if plain boxes of mirrors. The fifth floor was much like the first in style, and much less crowded too. Making it to his room was not a great ordeal.
The room itself was something special. The cost of the hotel was exorbitant for a reason, and each room was exquisite. Plush, wine red carpets covered the room wall-to-wall, with a large bed set slightly higher than the rest of the room at an optimal point for viewing through a subtly-installed skylight. Although it wasn't the top floor, Aruk somehow had a perfect view of the sky above, milky clouds and gray skies all. A quick search revealed a full kitchen, a jacuzzi in the bathroom, a television hidden behind a wall, and a minibar that hardly deserved the insult of mini.

He found himself staring at the balcony access and the magnificent view of the Castle, when something tugged at him. Perhaps it was the years of martial training, the years of attention to detail, but for some reason he couldn't quite place, something was wrong with the view, as beautiful as it was. He could see out perfectly - his airman's training even taught him to recognize the old remains of a large campground outside the castle, but still - something was out of place. Perhaps it was something with the glass.

* * *

LL's own trip to the hotel was uneventful. Trudging up the steps, Mel was beginning to be afraid that she might never escape, when quite out of the blue, someone called her name.
"Mel!"

She twisted her head around in an attempt to see who was calling her name, of course, when she noticed someone waving a black hat with a silver band behind one of the walls of plants.
LL seemed not to notice, storming dutifully forward as her retainers and Walter strove to keep up. Mel was fairly certain the man trying to hide on the other side of the fireplace was the owner of the hotel - they'd met before, a few times before he ran it and they were talking to his grandfather about the proper way to serve champagne. Grandmother seemed to be making due with the assistant manager - something about vagrants outside spitting tobacco on everyone's shoes.

"Mel! She's not looking!" If she'd had them, Mel's ears would have twitched. She could make out a wolf's face grinning between the petunias now, drink set aside, putting his hat firmly back on his head.

* * *

"A'ye, I know a way." the rabbit said to the succubus a wide grin on his face. "Be a duchess." he laughed not unkindly, and leaned forward instead. "My best advice, though, is get the carriage before the cocoa. Or get the rickshaw. Less people like the open air in the cold."
He was about to say more, when another customer brushed up behind the vampire bat, handing over a crumpled bill and a bit of loose change, and the rabbit's attention was snagged away. It seemed that she was holding up a line, and already the pool of available transportation was dwindling.

* * *

Aytch flashed a grin, eyes sparkling. "That'd be the dragon lady herself, sah." he said, opening a door for Kiet. "As you know, sir, the Scarlet Masque is an entertainment ball with the purpose of promoting unity, friendship, and having a grand old time. Officially speaking, sir, it's a tremendous social honor." he said, touching his nose. "Unofficially speaking, half the people here know that dragon lady there is the anonymous hostess, and they are here as ambas'dors to the Clan of Icewing. Or...customers."
The little mouse grinned again, nodding his head towards her quickly-receding carriage. "She's the scariest thing I've ever had the pleasure to meet, sir, and she doesn't say two words to me. So, Illura's boy - he gets the fine treatment. No offense to you sir, of course. Your mother truly is a nice lady, and a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, sir." he tipped his hat again, and waited for the ringtailed cat to make his way into the waiting transport.

* * *

Horatio merely smiled. "Lead the way, please." he said, gesturing with his hand toward the pool of waiting carraiges and rickshaws. Sunglasses slid down to reveal sea-green eyes for a moment. They were clearly amused. "I'll have to insist on moderation I'm afraid, ma'am. The mistress will need you functioning whe - but, she'll talk to you about all that."
He was about to turn to follow when Andrace grabbed his arm, and somehow managing not to squawk like a chicken, was towed along by the excitable lioness towards a free coach, stumbling through the snow.

* * *

Elizabeth was struck first by how little anyone seemed to notice her - despite her hiding all of these years, no enemies crawled out of the woodwork to claw out her throat, no memories of the past tugged at her in the face of anyone around her. The only clue that anyone knew who she really was had been burned up in that letter. Fighting through to get her luggage, even, no-one had paid her any more mind than any other passenger.
She might have nearly relaxed, had not someone tapped her on her shoulder. She heard a smooth, handsome voice speak to her, that nearly made the jackal jump out of her skin. She turned to look at a handsome, chiseled face framed by long hair and huge ears, that looked so very much like another face had before years of the forge and battle had added scars and burns to it.
"Excuse me. Do you know where I can find a hotel here?" the stranger said. Eyes, friendly, devoid of recognition, stared at Elizabeth questioningly.

* * *

"You!"

Jeremiah turned to see the Badger from before peeking halfway inside the room. "I thought I told you to get those potato peelings up an hour ago! Hop to it!" he said, disappearing from the doorway.
Jeremiah might have raised an eyebrow, until the Badger appeared again, almost in reverse of how he left. "Wait! Nevermind that. There's a painting we need to hang in the main ballroom, large portrait thing, covered in velvet. It's in storage right now, we need you to go get it. Down three levels, past two hallways, down again, third door on the right. It'll be unlocked."
The Badger paused for a moment, as if waiting for a response, and then without another word disappeared.

The room itself was nice - stone floors, animal skin carpets, and a richly made bed were among the amenities. The view from the window was spectacular, showing the small town of Damaske nestled amongst the mountains like a colored gem in the snow.
The demon realized, however, that eventually staring out might get a bit boring. The library might be a good place to pass the time.

* * *

Goss should have known better than to try and get some rest. After some snooty upper-class tart gave him a filthy look after he'd spat a gob in her path, and he started to feel the trickle of snow in his underpants, he felt something vibrating quite violently beneath his feet. He was about to stand, when about two paces in front of him, the ground simply erupted in a mass of dirt, stone, steel, and steam.
A great giant boiler was standing in the road, and fairly quickly he could see a small insect peering about from a newly-opened hatch.

The younger dragon, upon hearing her name, was trying to discretely look around without her grandmother noticing her lack of attention. Then Mel realized that LL was on a roll and had moved directly from scolding the poor assistant manager about allowing vagrants to loiter out front to her annual diatribe on the superiority of the original incarnation of the hotel. The elder dragon wouldn't notice much while extolling the virtues of the pseudo-gothic monstrosity the current hotel replaced. Taking her chance Mel slipped through the wall of leaves separating the bar from the lobby, changing to her slightly harder to spot snow leopard form as she did.  "Cog! How wonderful to see you again," she smiled at the wolf. "I never expected to see a friendly face here in the frozen middle of nowhere."

Jeremiah attempted to stammer out a reply, but the badger vanished too fast. Crappy memory, unheard of ability to vanish when you have a question... All in all, best boss I've had in a while. The frog sighed and made his way down the indicated hallways. Ah well, could be worse. At least I'm working with art. Wonder what sort of thing it is? DaVinci? Haines? He snickered to himself, Probably something uptight from the rennaisance era. I'll take a look under the velvet and see what they're gonna be yammering on about and boring the poor guests with. Rich folks shouldn't be allowed to buy art, they just use it to show off...

Andrace tossed an amused glance over her shoulder at Horatio as she slogged through the snow. "O' course I will," she said cheerfully. "Y' think the family sets just anyone loose in th' Pride half-trained? Moderation in all things, m' dad taught me... Includin' moderation, m' mum usually adds, just b'fore she pounces him. I'll go easy 'til this meetin' with Herself. After that, though..." Her toothy grin said everything without a single word.

They were out in the car park now. Andrace strode quickly towards the few remaining vehicles, keeping a cautious eye on the Gryphon, which seemed to be playing with a cargo container from the train. She could see one or two people standing, apparently unworried, at its feet, half hidden by the flurries of snow the huge Creature kicked up.

As the lioness approached one of the rickshaws she fished a coin out of her belt pouch and flipped it towards the driver. "Th' Firebloom Inn," she said, tossing her backpack into the rickshaw and climbing in after it. She carefully hid a calculating, thoughtful look as she beckoned Horatio to follow her and encouragingly patted the seat at her side. Th' handsome hunk o' foxy nearly let somethin' slip there, she thought. Wonder if I can pump him for more information b'fore th' meetin'...?

Tim raised her eyebrows at Ryn's lack of discomfort, then shrugged, and followed her up. Once there, she padded to the front of the container, then looked up at the huge gryphon overhead, looking down interestedly at what was going on between his paws.

"Okay, Rover. Up!"

Rover promptly leaped into the air, grabbing all four corners of the container on his way off the ground - with impressive acceleration.

"Gently! Gently, dammit!" Tim howled, flattened against the top of the container. "You have a passenger!" Pulling herself to her feet, she glanced, worriedly, over her shoulder to see Rynkura crouching, unconcerned, and apparently enjoying the breeze. The smaller gryphon blinked, then a horrid thought crossed her mind, and she turned around to see the rapidly approaching village clock tower. "MORE HEIGHT!" she screamed, in panic, and dismissed the unusual tigress from her immediate mind, in favour of directing the larger gryphon around some of the more immediately breakable scenery; particularly those bits that would break after breaking her...


Some few minutes later, after much stress and adrenaline (on Tim's part), and lots of fun (on Rover's), they arrived in the general vicinity of the inn, and Rover managed to place the container, with the two on it, reasonably gently on the street outside of the hotel, and was looking around curiously at the small - to him - creature sitting on the curb, watching them.

Tim tapped on his arm, to gain his attention. "Hey, big guy. Watch the box. k?" Rover glanced down at the container, and nodded. "Anyone messes with it, sic em. ok?" Another nod. "Good boy." A tail wag, bending a nearby street sign, and an ear flick.

Tim turned to Rynkura. "Well, here we are, Mistress Msh'taan. Apologies for the slightly rough ride, there; better than some, but still... Shall we go see if we can organise accommodation?"

Kiet scratched his chin as his eyes followed the carriage that held the ancient one, "so that is the matron of Clan Icewing in that carriage."

As Kiet climbed into the coach he considered what his mentor Hy'Rael, from the Academy of Sorcery, had mentioned of the dragons of Icewing.  He was forced to admit to himself that he knew little, which would place him at a disadvantage.  Social events of this magnitude were very much like war, with intelligence gathering, gathering together allies, engagements of words and wits, and objectives that needed to be taken.  None of which he really wanted to become involved in, he just wished for a good time and the chance to meet some interesting people without separate agendas.

Another disadvantage he could count was that he really had no idea what objective he should be seeking with clan Icewing, his mother did not send him with an agenda.  The weight of this Ball had him a bit frazzled, so much so that he did not notice Aytch had carefully placed Kiet's rather large, fluffy tail in the carriage and closed the door.  He was moving by the time he returned from his daze.

The ringtail huffed and popped his head out the window to speak to Aytch, "I know you may think me daft, but by what name does our anonymous hostess go by... I was taught the ancient ways of sorcery by an ancient dragon called Hy'Rael and he spoke at length about the families of the great dragons, but it has been a millenia or two since I have considered them.  The place where I teach is somewhat... removed... from the daily life of the world."

  Nak stood for a moment in the fine room. It finally felt as if a long journey had been completed and the destination had been reached. He strecthed out his arms and wings, then took a deep breath. The demon placed the luggage holding his formal attire and mask upon the bed. That frog had mentioned a library and Nak decided seeing the books a castle such as this held would be an excellent thing to do. "After all, musty old books hold plenty of interesting secrets. I might find a good project for when this affair is finished."

With his hand on his chin Aruk stared at the castle as he tried to figure out what it was that bugged him so much about the view.

"It kind of reminds me of steam coming off a hot road, and If it wasn't for the snow still being on the castle grounds I would simply dismiss it as some sort of heat spell, but even that doesn't settle this strange feeling I have."

Deciding to give it a rest for now and try and ease his mind Aruk takes off his jacket and sits it and his cane on the bed, then tries the TV. When he turns it on all he gets is static.

"Humph, figures." he then turns it off and sits down on the bed.

"That's just going to keep bugging me it seems." Aruk says as he looks back towards the balcony then turns his attention away and picks up his cane.

"I'm starting to think bringing you along was one of my better judgments." He says as he looks at his cane.

"Not to mention one of your better judgments Great Granddad." He pulls on the cane's grip to reveal a well polished blade with the name "Nicodemus Donzah" and several ruins written on the blade.

Aten had followed the dragons to there hotel. they were staying sat a much nicer place then himself but from what he had gather listening to those around them they were some kind of royalty. Curious. He'd almost give up the surveillance as the elder dragon had engaged in a seemingly endless conversation with one of the hotel staff then something unexpected happened. The younger dragon looked around and slipped away. Where she disappeared too he wasn't sure  but it seemed that a snow leopard had taken her place . That is unless this was her other form. the one used to travel among beings virtually unnoticed.  She was talking to a wolf but he could not her what they were saying so he walked closer trying not to look like he was creeping. after all with so many people arriving he could be anyone ad so could they. if asked about what he was up to... well he knew exactly what he would say. they truth worked so much better then lies after all, even when it was only half told.

The ride was indeed a rough one...but for Rynkura, it only proved to be more exciting than a dull carriage ride on the ground.  She kept her body low in the dent of the package, holding onto her staff with one hand and otherwise keeping hold with friction and with very little wind resistance on her side.  Of course, Rover did things as expected (which meant almost crashing into things and perhaps looking onto his comrade's fear in satisfaction), but as long as he got them there, all the better.

After a few minutes, the hotel was in sight.  Even from the air it looked like it bore an atmosphere of elegance like no other.  People that looked no more like multi-colored dots milled about the hotel entrance, nearby on the street, and around the building in general.  The tigress figured however that many of the guests for the Ball were already inside.  Well, I certainly cannot wait to see what kinds of personalities that this place brings, she thought with a hum.

Not without a few stares to accompany him, Rover landed carefully near to the hotel with the package and the unique passengers of another smaller gryphon and a white tiger who looked much like a sorceress with her garb and staff, except for the telltale Healer colors.  Still, perhaps they weren't the strangest things there yet.

Rynkura nodded to her travel companion as she gathered herself up and leaped onto solid ground, brushing off any debris from the flight that might have gotten on her clothing and hair.  "Do not worry about the roughness, young Tim, it was indeed a more enjoyable ride than most, thank you."  She turned for a moment and spared a bow to Rover.  "And thank you, for allowing me to travel with you."

Turning towards the building, Rynkura took a second to straighten up a little more before walking towards the doors.  "Yes, let us do so...accommodations are indeed a good idea right now.  Hrm, I may have to find out what time of day it is, perhaps there is also time for a meal."

The interior was indeed more than what was expected.  The beauty and magic of the hotel was definitely not lost on the hidden angel, at least, as she couldn't keep her eyes off of the many decorations and clever illusory things while heading towards the front desk to secure a room, paying little attention to the other guests unless something told her that she really needed to.

 "Like a bad penny, Mels." the wolf said, putting his hat and glasses on the table and flashing a grin.

The bar and restaurant area was about what one would expect. Groups of booths and tables in a large open space with a bar area on one end, with deep-grained wooden floors and large windows. A bouquet of flowers was placed on every black tablecloth along with a wax candle sculpted in the shape of a rose. Waitresses and waiters scurried from table to table and place to place, taking and delivering orders with practiced efficiency. A dark grand piano stood in one corner of the room, silent for the time being, although the place didn't sound empty. It had the quiet murmur one sometimes associated with places of high-class, although still yet warm.

Cog appeared to be nursing a glass of something amber-colored - his napkin, set to his side, was still folded in an ornate bloom, making it clear he hadn't eaten or didn't plan to. Friendly yellow eyes flashed around the room once, the wolf turning his head, and then returned to staring at the leopardess.
"How's the old battleaxe, then? Still making...ah. I didn't know you'd gotten a retainer, Mels." he nodded behind the leopardess at the grey feline standing just behind the white leopard, listening quietly.

* * *

The servant who'd guided Nak to his room seemed to vanish fairly quickly, leaving the demon on his own. The thud of his footsteps quickly descended into a lovely quiet, the snowfall outside absorbing all the sounds that might have come from the village - the wintertime's habit of deadening sound was strangely peaceful, despite the chill of the stone room. As night set, it would only get colder. A fireplace, set into the side of the room near the bed, was stocked with both wood and tinder for when he was ready to bed down.

* * *

Horatio sat down and straightened his tie. "Your parents sound like wise people." he said, deadpan voice carefully masking a grin. His sea-green eyes disappeared behind his shades as he pushed them back up. "It shouldn't take the lady more than an hour or two to be ready to take visitors. Nothing wrong with a little something to take the chill of the bones, either."

The rickshaw driver caught Andrace's coin in one feathery claw, the quadripedal gryphon giving the lioness a quick salute before trotting off. The harness creaked for just a moment as the wheels struggled out of the rut they'd dug into the snow, until the slush finally gave way and they were off.
The air was a bit chill as they went, big wet snowflakes falling on the both of them, although the white fox seemed unbothered by the winter weather.

"Your first time at the ball?" he said as they pulled up to the large black glass building. The gryphon had set them down a little farther than normal from the hotel - there appeared to be some sort of altercation up near the entrance involving a massive gryphon C sitting on a box, and some sort of mechanical boiler-looking contraption tearing up the street. The man on the curb didn't seem too bothered by it, but it was always best to take precautions...

* * *

If he hadn't been busy driving, Aytch might have done a double take. Instead, he frowned, and then tilted his head just slightly in thought.
"I've only ever heard people call her "Lady" or "Mistress"." he called back. "Or... wait. Once I heard one of the dragons with her call her 'Luna'."

The ride was fairly quick, Aytch pulling the carriage up across the street from the massive gryphon and it's boxcar, shaking his head as he pulled the door open for Kiet. "Wish I could help you out more, sir. I don't speak much to most of the nobs, they don't speak to me. Her, she don't speak much to -anybody-. Ehrm..." Aytch paused, shifting on his foot for a moment. "Illura told you what the Icewings do though, yeah?"

* * *

After waiting in line briefly, Rynkura found herself being helped by a well-dressed tiger, the waistcoated feline shuffling and stacking a set of papers as he greeted her with a warm, fanged smile.
"Welcome to the Firebloom Inn. Do you have a reservation?" he said easily. Despite the general busyness and hustle, the clerk seemed unstressed and friendly, waiting for the healer's reply.

The vampire bat nodded at first, then gave the rabbit a critical glance when she heard his answer, and looked away. She gave the queue behind her a glance, with obvious surprise. Perhaps she shouldn't have been trying to block things out quite so much. Either way, she was wasting time, so she took her cup with a mild touch of a frown and coloration to her face, and walked off, sipping the warm liquid in short gulps, the steam and scent hot and comfortable on her face.
   Still, it was with quite some hesitation, though not overly apparent, that the bat walked out and called up a carriage. She knew she was acting stupidly from more than one point of view. She knew that it would perhaps - probably - be better for her simply to turn around and disappear as thoroughly and lengthily as she could. It was only gut instinct, and a feeling of doubt as fleeting as the thoughts in and around her mind, that told her that doing such a thing would not help. That she had to deal with this issue face to face, whatever it was.
   'To the castle, please', she said, thinking it rather obvious to expect that the driver should know what she meant. Not that she paid that much heed either. Distractions and trouble filled her mind.
   She really was not comfortable with that feeling.

Mel grinned back at the wolf. It was very good to see someone she knew in the area. She had not expected to meet up with anyone but the normal stiff gaggle of royalty and celebrities that got invited to the ball. Cog started to ask about her grandmother then commented on her servant. The dragon turned and looked over the grey and orange feline waiting behind her.

"He is not one of the ones we dragged down from the Fort. He must be with one of the other groups." 

Then she addressed the unknown cat. "If you have a request of Family Icewing I am probably not the best one to address it to." She smiled a bit, "Walter, the tall silver with a  notebook constantly in his hand, can line you up an appointment with Grandmother."

As she stood in line behind and in front of many individuals who indeed looked as if they could afford to rest at the lavish hotel, Rynkura had a look at her surroundings.  They really kept the place clean it seemed, for there was a very pure scent in the air that perhaps either had something to do with the many plants, or with the sense of magic.  It was comfortable without being too posh and without really reeking of the overly-rich.  Although, looking about the lobby, she had to wonder what was with the individual sneaking around among some of the potted plants.

She shook her head.  How much am I willing to bet myself that there will be stranger creatures than just Rover about...?

Finally, the robed white feline was up next.  With her pack and staff in possession, she approached the counter to note another of the panthera tigris variety greeting her in a most polite manner.  Even when normally one exudes an air of irritation at this number of guests, Rynkura deemed herself fortunate to have not had to deal with one of them.

"I do, yes.  It should be in the name Msh'taan, good sir."

Tim leaped down from the container, landing lightly beside Rynkura, and, after checking to make sure Rover was staying put, glanced up the street where some large metal contraption had dug it's way up into the air. She frowned, and looked up at Rover.

"Don't go play with that, Rover. You don't know where it's been."

Rover looked over at it, sniffed expressively, and blew his disgust at how muddy the object was. Plainly he wasn't interested; a fact which made Tim somewhat relieved. Failing to consider that this left Rover free to investigate other attractions (like the guy sitting at the curb, or the rickshaw pulling up up the street) she turned and followed Rynkura into the hotel. It was... slightly more upmarket than she expected, but that wasn't a huge deal; after all, it wasn't like Rover could fit through the doors, so she wasn't too fussed what the inside of the building looked like.

While waiting, she noticed various folk crowding the lobby; some waiting in line at the counter, and a few over in an eating area; some classy tables behind a few decorative ferns, that sort of thing. Nobody she recognised, but that wasn't anything unusual. It wasn't like they got invited to too many soirées or to hobnob with the hoi-polloi... Still, that was more or less what they were here for.

Her thoughts were broken by the quiet, attention getting cough of the clerk in front of her. He looked her up and down - or, at least, down and further down - and almost visibly shuddered at the slightly worn, cheap, and somewhat tattered clothing she was wearing (Rover had a certain amount of wear and tear on clothing, and Tim was more comfortable slouching about, anyway - she wasn't looking forward to the ball too much, but needs must). His voice, when he spoke, had all the warmth and friendliness of a week dead fish, and managed, in that oh so correct, supercilious, upper class British way, to imply that he'd rather lick the dung from the sole of his boot. "May I be of assistance?"

Tim blinked. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. Er... I understand you have stables here. I was wondering where they were, and how big."

He looked down his nose at her. "How ... large?" He looked her over again. "I can say without fear of contradiction or mistake that you will almost certainly fit in there."

Tim smiled uncertainly. "Oh, I'll fit. I'm just wondering about my friend outside."

The concierge smiled. "Oh?"

"Er, yeah." Tim hooked a thumb over her shoulder, at the window - where Rover's huge eye was looking in, curiously watching the goings on. And mostly filling the window.  "He's a little bit taller than I am. Have you got space that'll fit him?"

"... " The clerk gaped for a bit, then visibly pulled himself together. "I'm not sure. Let me see what we can sort out, Ma'am."

Tim nodded, and waited. The change in the clerk's demeanour was gratifying, if mildly irritating, but pretty much expected. And hopefully that would be their accommodation sorted.


Now if only they could get through the next few days without eating anyone important...

   Karazkt took his eyes off Damaske Castle to observe his surroundings. Of course, he already knew where everything was with the vibration sensetivity of his antennae, it took vision to actually observe something. He looked down on a surfacer to the left of his mech, reclining on a bench. Most unusual. Karazkt couldn't seems to tell what kind of surfacer this one was. There was nothing that indicated his functional position. Karazkt doubted he was a Worker, Workers usually ate or slept during their designated off-times. He didn't looked like he had anything in the way of weapons or armor, natural or artificial, so he didn't seem to be a Soldier, despite the fact that it was the Soldiers who usually stood guard or patrolled whenever they weren't attacking intruders or invading another hive. A Messenger? Maybe...either way, he had to be aware Karazkt was arriving, and since he seemed to be interested in Karazkt instead of going about business, it fit in that he must aslo be Karazk't designate guide.
   Karazkt leaned forward over the edge of his mech's cockpit, looking at Goss with infravision through goggled eyes. "Aarr...Are yyou..." Karazkt shook his head. Cursed surface language. "Are you To be my ezKorT?"

Kiet stepped down out of the carriage, into the street and shifted his weight to his left foot as he paused briefly to knock an offending pebble from his shoe.

The ringtail's large tail twitched as he gave Aytch a sideways glance, "but of course I know, they are a very well informed clan and they put that knowledge to very lucrative use.  Additionally, they are known to be very impartial in their dealings, but also honorable.  The Council brokered for information from them very cunningly, hence why my army was able to outmaneuver Mordecai and Ka'rith during the last great war.  However, that is history and I have never dealt directly with the Icewing Clan."

Kiet clasped Aytch's hand and smiled cheerfully at the driver, "thank you for the ride Mister Aytch, may your travels be always swift and safe." 

He paused to regard the contraption that had broken through the road from underneath and nodded to himself.  Kiet had an unusual fascination for mechanical devices and would have investigated, but he thought better of it, the pilot might be a descendant of one of the hives his clan had subjugated to fuel their war machine in the very distant past.  Such things would be at the very least uncomfortable for him.

The golem car carrying his retainers passed by the boiler contraption and found the appropriate spot to park.  His luggage was quickly unloaded and carried into the Inn, while the golem transformed and headed for the stabling yard with the rest of the transportation.

With a final wink to the mouse being, he headed across the street and right past the Gryphon C and boxcar.  The creature was far too interested in the happenings within the lobby, as it could see through the window, to notice one lone cubi.  He paused at the lobby entrance and spent a moment to take in the emotionally charged atmosphere.  "Ah, community!  I so love a diverse environment."

The head retainer, Camoile motioned for him to join her, "sir, please come here before the large... creature tries to eat you."

"nonsense, there are far more interesting things to look at then me.  Come let us check on the reservations."  Kiet enjoyed annoying his mother's retainer, but there was some wisdom in her words.

A convenient servant wandered by with a tray of pastries and upon it was a banana cream filled danish which he plucked from its doily protection with supreme alacrity.

Kiet closed his eyes in anticipation and bit down, taking a quick bite.  He chewed about a bit before scrunching his face up in disappointment, "funny, I can remember more flavor in these... and substance too..."  The ringtail was surprised to find his hands bereft of pastry.

Camoile had deftly snatched the treat away with a wing tentacle and gave a brief motherly shake of her head, "no sir, it is best if you do not."  She deftly placed it back on the doily before the servant was wiser.

Quite chagrined, Kiet turned towards the counter and with a huff came up besides another more reasonably sized Gryphon.  He waited patiently for another clerk to become available.
   

Rover's eye, it's true, was firmly glued to the window, and - in order to bring his head down to the right point - his forefeet were planted either side of the front door.

However, his other eye turned to watch the ringtail, and associates, saunter up between his legs and into the hotel.

And blinked.

"'Nother kitty, chee." he chirped happily to himself. This game was going to be fun...

Once she made it to the front of the crowd, Elizabeth waited impatiently for her luggage, folding her arms imperiously and looking irate. Spending several centuries in hiding had tempered her tolerance to most inconveniences, but when she was already in a state of anxiety, this was apparently not enough. Elizabeth casted a rather deterrent glare at a nearby, decorative potted plant, drumming her right ring finger in an ingrained habit she had developed over the years, and had yet to eliminate. At least no one seemed to notice her - everyone was too engrossed in their own devices to realize the furious-looking jackal's presence, and those who did see her saw fit to ignore her.

After a while, Elizabeth started to relax, even amidst her irritation that her luggage hadn't arrived yet. Just as she was about to start looking more actively, however, she was startled by someone tapping her on the shoulder. Only years of remaining in disguise prevented Elizabeth from impulsively spinning around and kicking the unfortunate person behind her. Instead, she merely turned around, looking somewhat flat. She wanted to say something like, Oh, what do you want? or This had better be good, but anything rude she had the potential to say died on her tongue in the next moment.

Oh hell, Elizabeth thought with all the dignity she could muster, trying to keep her surprise isolated from her features. She, mostly, succeeded, although she still appeared thunderstruck, to some extent. It was hard not to, seeing as she was confronted with a battle-scarred doppelganger of her late husband. It was almost unbearable. Elizabeth wanted to start cursing, but instead she answered somewhat woodenly. "Yes, you probably to go east down main until you get to cherrywood, take a right, go down cherrywood until you get to oak, and then down oak until you're there..."

Elizabeth could not resist the temptation. Before the other could leave, she asked, "If you don't mind me asking... what is your name?"

~Keaton the Black Jackal

Goss had been staring at the thing that had crashed up through the street in front of him for a while, when the pilot spoke. For a rare instant, Goss was speechless.

"I.. um..."

The pilot continued to stare.

"I..."

Suddenly, behind Goss, a familiar voice spoke up. "Sir?"

Goss rolled his eyes. Damn it all, not these guys again,. "Sir, what the hell i-"

"You are leaving.", Goss calmly spoke. "You and your companion have done enough, take the car, and leave. I am perfectly capable of conducting the rest of this engagement on my own.". The two guards stared at each other, their commander, and the bizarre vehicle in the street. "Sir, I don't think that it w-"

Goss, less calmly, spoke again. "Get the hell out of here, I'm busy." The guards paused for a second, nodded, got into their car, and left. Goss turned back to the pilot.

"Alright." he said. "Who the hell are you?"

Andrace just smiled and didn't bother to suppress a contented low, rumbling purr as she leaned against the fox. Because of the chilly wind and drifting snow blowing over the rickshaw's passengers, of course, although she appeared to be as unbothered by the weather as Horatio... besides, the beneficial warming effects of a tail-tip brushed across the fox's ankle might be debatable. An imperceptible bump in the road made her lurch in her seat and throw an arm around his shoulders.

The trip to the hotel was otherwise uneventful, but Andrace's purring broke off suddenly as the rickshaw pulled into a street decorated by a tall, black glass confection of a building. As they approached, the lioness could clearly see the name picked out in glittering gold letters, "Firebloom Inn". She could also see an odd mechanical contraption in the street nearby: it had apparently dug a gaping hole, tunneling up from below. As if that wasn't enough, right outside the hotel...

"Oh frig, it's beaten us here!" Andrace muttered, laying her ears back as she stared at the huge Gryphon looming over the hotel entrance. The same cargo container, by now rather battered-looking, had been deposited neatly at the kerb. She watched the huge Creature anxiously as their rickshaw stopped a short distance away. We should be safe, she thought, our driver's a gryphon as well, he wouldn't leave us here if Somethin' Nasty was about t' happen... I hope.

She was so preoccupied she almost missed what Horatio had said. "First time?" she replied absently. "Ah... tha's right. Heard o' it, o' course, who hasn't? Never thought I'd be invited m' self, though." She climbed out of the rickshaw, hefted her backpack over her shoulder again, and paid the driver. She was just about to turn to Horatio and ask him about the... traffic hazard... when someone hopped out of a carriage, crossed the road and entered the hotel. Right between the Gryphon's forelegs, as it crouched to look in through a window.

"..." Andrace said.

The lioness recovered her composure quickly. Anything that fluffy-tailed shrimp can do... she thought. She snorted, threw her shoulders back, and strode along the pavement towards the hotel entrance. She was almost within diving-through-the-door-to-safety range when she glanced over her shoulder at Horatio. "You comin' or not?" she asked. "It's just a meep!"

Even the most determined advance will pause for thought when faced eye-to-eye with an eye larger than Andrace's entire torso. The Gryphon had twisted his head down and round, and was now staring upside-down into the lioness' face from almost within arm's reach. The first coherent thought to pass through her mind was suddenly remembering that due to last minute repacking, her fresh underwear was at the bottom of her backpack.

Rover turned his head away from the window, and curved it around, and upside down, to look at the incoming lioness. After all, with the ringtailed cat just gone past, he was watching to see if anyone was messing with the container he was supposed to watch.

When she meeped at him, he blinked. And then sniffed her, delicately. Well, as delicately as possible with nostrils maybe a foot across.

And then he blew out, blowing her fur back, and her hair off her shoulders. It took her a moment to realise he was actually saying something.

"Cheee.... Kiiiiitty. Biiig kitty." He grinned at her, slightly disconcertingly since his head was still upside down.


Inside, Tim looked out the window, realised Rover was focusing on something else, caught a glance of what it was, and a horrified look poured across her features. She glanced after where the clerk had gone, muttered something about "it", and headed for the door. She got outside just in time to hear Rover.

"Big kitty play fetch?"

"Of course, Ms...Rynkura." he said, still smiling that easygoing smile as he handed the healer her invitation back. "Now, let's see here..." the clerk stared down at a sheet of papers covering his desk, flipping through them quickly. He brushed the bangs from his eyes, papers crackling as he sorted through the mess, trying to flatted the blond strands back enough to let him see. The tiger had contained most of it in a ponytail, but it was apparent the hair had a mind of its own.

  "You know, I'll be glad when the old man finally gives in and gets off the paper system." he grinned at the tigress, smartly straightening a bunch from the pile. "You do have a reservation, yes'm, for room 212." He reached into some recess into the desk and pulled out an iron key. It seemed to be becoming more apparent that the owner of the hotel had heard of technology, but other than what he'd been forced to put into the guest's rooms, he had no truck with it.

The key dangled from a keyring, with a black-ink-and-bronze card proclaiming it "Number 212". "You've paid the nights in advance, so you're all checked in. Checkout is from 7:00 to 11:00 sharp, and we hope you have a lovely stay at the Firebloom Inn."

* * *

After sending the white tigress on her way, Ray, the clerk, was desperately trying to sort the reservation list into some sort of comprehensible order when Fredrick, the one who normally handled the royalty and suchlike, tapped him on the shoulder. He gave a glance out of the corner of his eye and paused, noting the strangely perturbed expression on the concierge. Strange, in that it was more intimidated and less snooty than usual. Ray waited for a moment, and when he remained quiet, risked a question.
"What?"

The concierge gave him a dour look, and nodded his head behind him, towards the window, where a very large eye was staring inside. Ray looked at it uncomprehendingly, for a moment, until his brain caught up and registered what he was seeing. He blinked, managing somehow to keep his mouth closed, and gave another sideways glance to his fellow employee. Fredrick looked around shiftily.

Ray sighed. "Let me guess. The Gryphon Ministry wasn't joking?" Fredrick nodded slowly, and Ray shook his head. "Right. Well. Hells, it looks even bigger in person. Doesn't that just beat all. Ah..."
The tiger paused. Fredrick stared. Both clerk's expressions were eerily similar. As one, they looked behind themselves, at the dragon lady still giving her yearly lecture to Steph. They shuddered, and starting and stopping, both began to speak at the same time.
"The gryphon's did reserve back in Dec-"
"Normally we'd honor an early res-"
"How could we know it wasn't a jo-"
"We should never have let her rese-"

Both clerks stopped, and glanced at each other, before nodding. Ray spoke. "Normally we'd let them have the pocket room, but...well...it's not that cold outside." A few snowflakes fell on the windows behind them. "We'll make some calls, get some...bedding."
Both clerks nodded. Both reached for the phone, and a heated glance and short scuffle later, Ray walked across the lobby, iron key in hand, and made for the door where the smaller gryphon seemed to have run outside.

* * *

Horatio looked up at Rover, his expression somewhere between 'blank' and 'nonplussed', a strange mixture generally only seen on the faces of extremely tired watchmen and highway patrol officers everywhere. As the big thing said something about fetch, the expression tensed, wincing just slightly. Looking over at Andrace, who seemed to be frozen and staring the big lug in the eye, the white fox looked back up to Rover quickly, frowning.
"If you'll just step this way, ma'am." the fox said, grabbing the lioness gently by the arm and quickly but firmly guiding her towards the door, and away from the larger gryphon. "The mistress would prefer you still in one piece, I think..."

* * *

"Ah, thank you." the stranger said, starting to walk away. At Elizabeth's next question, however, he paused and looked behind himself, turning around slightly and pushing up wire-frame glasses. "My name is Tobias. People call me Toby." he said, smiling genially. he turned around completely and offered his hand. "There. My introduction." he said with amusement, speaking warmly. "And now, I must have the lady's introduction. And your name is, madam?"

* * *

Elyse found the countryside to be simply more of the same - the time spent going through the town nearly negligible in reference to the ten-minute trip she found herself enduring. The road was rough and bumpy, and the driver seemed a yokel, singing to himself most of the way and generally being a nuisance. The scenery, however, was more than breathtaking.
The path was uphill most of the way, and after a brief and somewhat exorbitant remittance, the driver had left, and she found herself quite alone and cold in front of the Castle Damaske.

Iron gates stared at her, twisting with extravagant designs and exquisite workmanship. They were unlocked, it seemed, and a short path led itself to the doors of the keep proper. Still - something about the place bothered her, though she couldn't quite place it.

She could see a figure in one of the upper-level windows to her right, horned and staring out. If it was an omen, it was certainly a very blunt one.

* * *

Kiet waited only a moment while one of the clerks, busily talking on the phone and gesturing somewhat emphatically, finished what he was doing and finally made his way towards him. The concierge inclined his head, smiling an oily smile.
"Can I help you, sir?"

   Karazkt was a little confused when the surfacer he was focused on spoke to two other surfacers. When he finally responded to Karazkt, he was rather taken aback. Not only was the question unusual in and of itself--hives virtually always knew the identities of planned visitors--but it was also said in a strange tone.
   "I am EG-41-25, Engineer of the hive-ziTy ZizidronaKT." Karazk, as he probed the local pheremones whith his antennae, started to get confused. The 'hive' istelf had it's own distinctive smell, yes, but the people in it seemed to lack their own unifying scent marking them as members of the same hive. How disorganized! Karazkt focused a little more on the man in front of him. Come to think of it, he didn't seem to have the smell of the 'hive' on him very stongly at all.
   "WaiT..." Karazkt muttered.
   Pushing some levers, the mech's engine quieted down but did not stop entirely; it was now on standby. Karazkt then deftly climbed out of the cockpit, down the mech, and dropped in front of Goss. Quickly, he brushed his antennae over the surfacer. There was no doubt about it now.
   "...You are noT of thiz hive." He said simply.

"ah yes " Said the feline a bit upset with himself for letting himself drift too close. Ah well no hope for it now he thought as he stepped to the table recited his prepared dialog not word for word but close enough as there would be no flaws
"i thank you for your consideration but I'm here on other business and in all truth i would not know were to begin in a meeting which such a high ranking noble as your distinguished grandmother." Aten was privately amazed that there was such a gap as grandmother grand daughter. he'd thought that she'd been at least of the younger dragons mothers generation but then that was fine... "please call me  Atem" he said with a smile "and while it may seem strange I'm here taking in the sights and trying to find out about some formal event I've been requested to attend. Pray tell do either of you know about a party as the castle this week?"

he hoped he was not in the preset of mind readers as his safety image of the letter he received  might be pierced and his name  even though he recalled it  as the one he'd given kept trying to shift to it's original format and he couldn't have that just in case.

Kiet returned the clerk's smile with a large, sharp toothed, and excessively pleasant grin, "Indeed my good man.  Would you be so kind as to check the reservations for TiPaollo.  I imagine the Xe'Pherion delegation placed it, likely reserved by my cousin Durano R'Tan-TiPaollo."

The huge gryphon had chirped something about 'fetch'.  Kiet turned to see a somewhat frightened lioness had captured the large creatures entire attention.  The smaller gryphon had quickly headed for the scene with an air of responsibility. 

"The Gryphons decided to send one of their big hitters to this ball."

Andrace froze for a few seconds, eyes wide and tail fluffed out, her training taking over for lack of anything coherent going on between her ears. Frigfrigfrig, she thought, don'tmovefrigmaybeit'llfrigthinkyou'rearock... She was on the point of saying "yes" just to humour the Gryphon when Horatio gripped her arm and pulled her into the hotel entrance. "Ah... yeah," she replied, "I kinda like havin' me in one piece as well."

Inside the hotel lobby, the lioness paused and shook her head to get the windblown look out of her hair. "Whoof, thanks f'r th' assist, H'ratio," she said. "Never seen one o' those so close b'fore. Most queer an' disturbin'." She gave the fox a quick but thorough hug by way of thanks, took a deep breath, and strode towards the reservations desk.

Rynkura watched with patience as the clerk checked through the papers with the quick precision that was perhaps required of anyone working at the hotel...certainly evident when he remarked about getting rid of the paper filing system.  She chuckled in reply.  "Indeed, things should be easier.  But then, who knows, maybe he simply prefers to be old-fashioned, as I do."  As the tiger gave her the gleaming key, she nodded back with a polite smile.  "I will, thank you, good sir."

As the Healer excused herself from the line, allowing the others to make their reservations, she couldn't help but glance back at where Tim was, dealing with another clerk...her keen ears caught bits of the conversation as it drifted towards the subject of Rover, whose gargantuan presence would certainly have been a surprise to anyone just taking a glance at the window and seeing it there.  She chuckled and kept walking.  Gods forbid that I may have to use my healing so early in this endeavor...

It wasn't at all a dull trip, heading through the hallways and up to room 212.  Whoever built the place certainly had done so up to a fervently strict and lavish code.  Not one thing seemed out of place, and not one portion of the elegance was lagged upon.  At least, for the moment's notice anyway.

And the rooms!  So used to living outside of her family's ring of nobility for some hundreds of years, it still surprised Rynkura to have been allowed to just see such a space, let alone stay in it.  Out of the windows it still looked like a good portion of daylight was left, as well.  It was a good thing too; she hadn't eaten since the start of the trip.

Humming with appreciation, the tigress set her things on the bed and promptly made herself at home, organizing everything down to placing the dress she had picked carefully into the closet.  Once done, all she took out of the room were the key, the coins in her pocket, and the staff that she never let go of, and started to head back down towards the dining area.

Well, new places, new faces, she chuckled to herself.

Tim paled, and zipped over as if she hadn't covered the space in between.

"No! Dear gods, no! Don't agree!" she burbled, wondering frantically how she could distract the behemoth, and get the lady out of his way. Fortunately, the fox behind the lioness seemed somewhat less overwhelmed, and dragged the two of them towards the hotel, and out of immediate range. Good. That was one problem sorted. Now for the other one.

The little gryphon promptly faced the big one down. She gazed up at him. He twisted his head back upright, and looked down at her. She tapped one foot, impatiently. He looked guilty, but confused - like a small boy who knows he's done something wrong, but isn't quite sure how he's transgressed, or what he should apologise for...

"We talked about this, didn't we, Rover?" Her voice was stern, correcting, and yet gentle. "Diplomats, right?"

His voice rolled back, mournfully, as he looked at his front paws, his voice quiet and the words slurring together. "Ys'm."

"And we agreed what to do with them, right?"

Paws fiddling with each other. No eye contact; an impressive feat, given how large his eyes were. Voice quieter, almost inaudible. At least, compared to usual. "Ys'm."

"We don't know who is a diplomat, yet. There is to be no fetch unless I say so, ok?"

A hurt look in the eyes, still looking down; one ear flicked acknowledgement; and the voice was yet more hurt, and even quieter. "ys'm."

"Okay." Tim looked up at the earnest, innocent face hanging above her, and patted his front paw - with an effect about on par with splashing a waterfall. "Things aren't what they seem, here, Rover. She might have hurt you." She sounded genuinely concerned for his welfare.

"ys'm."

"Good boy. I promise you, we will have some fun later, ok? Once we find out who can play, and who we leave alone."

Rover cheered up a bit at this. "Chee."

"Good. Good." she repeated, and patted his foot again, then glanced around. Noticing the clerk from the hotel advancing through the door towards her, she turned and headed in his direction, meeting him just outside the door. "Sorry about that. I wanted to avoid any, ah, diplomatic incidents, if possible."

Ray nodded. "We appreciate your efforts for the benefit of our image. Ah, I have here a key for your room, ma'am, room 419, overlooking the stable area."

"Ah, thank-you." Tim hadn't expected a room; her boss had left her with the impression that she'd be bunking with Rover, as usual. A pleasant surprise. She waved one arm behind her, pointing around and behind Rover at the container. "I hope there's space round there for the luggage we brought?"

The tiger leaned to one side to peer, unflappably, around the fluffy mountain. "Yes, ma'am, I do believe there is space. Will you require some assistance in moving it?" He wasn't sure how they would manage to assist, but surely someone knew someone who had a forklift or something, and there were standards for how guests were treated.

Tim blinked. "Oh, no. That's awfully kind of you, but I think we can manage. Is there someone around there to show Rover where to put it?"

Ray smiled. "No, ma'am, but I'd be happy to show you to your quarters. Both of your quarters." Internally, he winced. The things he did for this job.

Tim smiled back, and turned to Rover. "Ok, boy! We're going up and over! Grab your box."

The dragon wanted to stare, stunned, at the feline, but managed to check herself in time. Some formal event. Mel laughed silently to herself. An event that royalty and celebrities were honored to receive an invitation to and he thought it was the annual dinner dance of some fraternal order. She wondered who had thought to invite him.

"The Scarlet Masque is half ball, half diplomatic assembly. A chance for royalty, leaders, and famous personalities or their ambassadors to meet in a less overtly political environment."

Looking around, sighing to herself and trying her utmost to relax in spite of the situation and the stiffness caused by the cold, Elyse stopped viewing the landscape, and paid full heed to the castle and the proceedings. Stepping down from the carriage - she politely denied the unbrushed driver's attempts at assisting her. Did she look like she was made of porcelain? - she paid him in the typical manner and with the typical expression that she used when she thought she was being cheated, but had no real choice; a complete lack of apparent emotion. She could have made him a lot more 'reasonable', but there was no chance of making him forget why he had went such a long way out, which could lead to other things, so she left it be. And thus, left standing with that feeling in addition to the cold, she felt a bit like just laying down and sinking hopelessly into the snow for a bit. Desperately she began going over ideas or plans of what to do, only to discover that she essentially had none, which brought a rather uncomfortable and long pause to her thoughts.
   It was the barring, unwelcoming sight of those iron gates, when she looked back over at them once more, that brought the bat out of her gloom. And effectively replaced it with a mild hint of irritation and anger. With herself, and with whoever it had been that had sent her that invitation. She had somewhat of an idea, by coincidence, of just what this 'ball' would represent, but that was already a greater irritation, since the idea of her being invited was in itself somewhat preposterous. She had no idea of why she might be in the first place. She thought of just turning back, but with the clopping sound of the carriage already fading far in the distance, and the reminder once again that this was probably unavoidable, that hesitation was snuffed out at last.
   Grumbling, she began walking toward the gates.

Aten nodded he'd had various statements similar to that but never from anyone who'd actually attended the event. still this sounded m0ore like an event his parents would attend them himself. why would he be invited unless someone in his family pulled some string to get to him? and if they could find him to deliver the letter why not just try to show up unexpected and catch him off Giraud?

"i see. thank you." Aten bowed his head respectfully. he wondered if his social manners were as rusty as he thought they were. "by you knowledge of the event is it safe to believe that you've attended this event before?" 

"I swear. If I wasn't here every year, this entire place would go to the dogs." LL said, with an air of injured nobility. Stephanie, a smallish otter, and also the assistant manager, sensed a  possible break in the lecture the elder dragon was giving, and her eyes gleamed secretly with forbidden hope. The dragon sighed dramatically, one arm crossed and one elbow resting in the palm of her hand - she looked as though she should be smoking a cigarette out of something long and ornate, but she simply gestured with her free hand, and then entourage began to follow.
"You can start scheduling appointments after the luggage gets brought up, Walter." she sniffed. Walter nodded, giving an apologetic smile to the assistant manager as he passed.

"Hm." she paused, looking round. The hotel staff held its collective breath. "It seems Melodie's run off." she said. The matriarch shrugged, continuing on. "I'm sure she'll come round when she gets hungry or something. Children..."
The hotel staff sighed, and began to resume normal business.

LL walked off, heading for the elevators, her retinue following. Walters stayed behind, and instead seemed to be speaking busily to another silver dragon, seemingly waiting for something.

* * *

Cog regarded Aten with a raised eyebrow, giving Mel a sideways glance out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed his drink and sipped on it, swallowing and coughing just a bit, and giving the feline a white-toothed grin.
"We've been here before, yes, although I think Mel more times than I." he said, setting his drink of amber liquid down. "So, she'd probably have more funny stories about what kings and dignitaries get up to when the've had too much to drink." he paused, adjusting his hat and leaning forward, giving the cat a look over the top of his glasses. "I daresay, though, it can be pretty funny watching wars start over what Their Harold did to Our William and whatnot." the wolf grinned.

He leaned back. "Even with the starched shirts, it's a great lot of fun." he said, pushing up his glasses. "'Specially when Luna starts causing trouble. But, ah - are you staying here, sir?" he paused, looking expectantly.

* * *

"Of course, sir." Fredrick said. If the concierge had possessed a mustache, he gave the distinct impression that he would have waxed it, religiously. A moment's walking back to the desk, where after fumbling through same papers and a few marks with a pencil, allowed the ferret to grab a large iron key, and shortly thereafter make his way back, along with a small card.

"Your room, sir, number three-thirteen." he said, still smiling. "And along with the reservation, this was attached to your key. Your cousin wanted you to have it, I think."
It was a business card, boringly direct and simple. "Dr. Gerard A. Irisi, Archaeologist, 344 West Iril, Township of Damaske." On the back, a note scrawled in familiar handwriting.
"Kiet, be a chap and pay the man a visit for me. Studying something in the wilderness there for ages, fascinating stuff, tell me all about it. -Durano"

* * *
"They are larger than they appear, ma'am, not a problem." Horatio said, flushing briefly as she gave the white fox a hug and dashed off to the reception desk.

The clerk, Fredrick, was grinning happily to himself, until he looked up and saw a customer waiting to be addressed at the desk - and paused. And smiled again, and looked up more until he caught the face of the lioness standing in front of him.
"Can I help you?" he said, a surprisingly genuine smile on his face. A cough interrupted before Andrace could speak, however, and Horatio set a piece of cardstock on the table, with the Icewing symbol of outstretched wings over a field of thirteen snowflakes.
"Room 674, please." Horatio said, his face security-guard blank. "She's with the Family's group."

Fredrick's face changed remarkably, going from one sort of smile to another kind entirely, and he grabbed the key and put it on the counter without a second's hesitation. He nodded brightly at the both of them.
"We hope you have a nice stay." he said, and without another glance looked back down at the papers on his desk.

Horatio ignored him, instead waiting for Andrace to pick up her key, and pushed his shades back up over his face. He gave a small smile. "Time for that drink then, ma'am?"

* * *

"Ehrm...up?" Ray said, giving the smaller gryphon a large-eyed look. "I...I'm not...can he really lift that? Surely you don't mean to lift it -over- the building?" he said, wincing a bit more with every moment. "The stables are to the side, maybe...maybe we could call a forklift?" he said brightly, clearly afraid for his life that some mad, giant bird was about to drop a few tons of metal on top of the hotel - something which, while not outright killing him, would cause the owner to hunt him down and beat him to death with a tire iron.

* * *

People milled about as the healer made her way back down into the lobby, paying the Tigress not very much mind. The dining area seemed to be filling up quickly, however, and more and more people filed into the hotel every moment. If it was a meal she was looking for, it would be best to grab a seat quickly.

* * *

The gates opened with a creak, rusty iron protesting as the bat made her way into the courtyard. The bricks were dusted with snow, and the vegetation all around her was quite dead, still fast in the grip of winter. The doors to the castle loomed in front of her, again large, iron affairs, exquisitely carved until one saw the flecks of plaster beneath the metal patina. A large knocker was set into the door, a plate of iron affixed behind it. A snarling dragon with a ring in its mouth beckoned visitors to make themselves known.

Tim smiled brightly, and utterly, utterly innocently up at Ray.

"Oh, sure! He lifts that sort of thing all the time! No problem!"

"The stables are to the side, maybe...maybe we could call a forklift?"

"Round the side? Oh, ok. I thought they were over behind the hotel." She waved a paw in the general direction of the hotel door, indicating the direction she had thought they were heading. "No forklift, though; that'd take too long. We'll just pick it up and move it." She turned to Rover. "No flying, sorry. Maybe later, ok?"

A slightly disappointed response: "O-kay." *sigh*

"Oh, come on. You still get to move the box."

Rover brightened up. "Chee."

"Good boy. You grab that, and come with us." She turned back to Ray. "So... where were you putting him, then?" A brief pause. "And are you sure you don't want to fly there?" She grinned, mischievously, while behind her, a brief, loud, grating scraping sound, and a deep grunt, announced to the world that Rover was ready to go.

the mention of Luna caught Aten's attention even though his face remained impassive one of his ears twitched slightly. " Ah. well we do do foolish things for time to time why should or royalty be different?" he was smiling. "still this event sounds more like something i'd expect some one to invite  my parent to attend the myself."

privately Aten was getting a bit worried. was this someones ideal of a joke? his parent were the diplomats not himself. why invite someone who aside form being a virtual nobody in the who's who crowd but had vanished after school to an event where a faux pas could cause a war? and then there was that name Luna. he remembered reading about Luna but he'd have to do some more  before the event fortunately he was certain they town had a library. After all most good size towns did the question would be if they had the books he needed and if he had time to find the information he wanted before he had to rest for the party.

"may i sit with you? as it has been a long day and it seems i have much to learn and consider about this event i was invited to attend." he asked in a manner he hoped was polite. he had realized that the feline was indeed the dragoness he'd been following and that as such she was also royalty of a sort.

{edited to fix wrong words and add clarity.}

Goss stared straight into the eyes of the creature in a bit of a daze, not entirely hearing what it said. Suddenly, he snapped out of it.

"No. I'm not. I've, uh..."

Goss looked around uncomfortably.

"I think I've got to go, now.", he said, and headed back into the hotel, which had gotten slightly busier in the last few minutes. He was about to head to his room, when he realized that his "guards" hadn't bothered to give him one.  He walked up to a clerk, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Need a room key for N. Goss. Seem to have misplaced mine."

As Horatio showed the card to the desk clerk, Andrace didn't try all that hard to conceal a look on her face that somehow managed to combine smugness and innocence. She bounced the backpack on her shoulder to settle it a little more comfortably and picked the key up from the desk. "Th' name's Kithara, Andrace Kithara," she said to the much shorter ferret with a friendly, if somewhat toothy, smile. The lioness turned and led Horatio towards the ornate main staircase, twirling the key on her forefinger claw.

"Somethin' t' wet m' throat'd be nice," she said over her shoulder to the fox. "But I'd like t' get settled in first; unpack a bit, clean up, get some fresh clothes on. Haven't had a decent wash in two, three days with all this travellin' — an' I'd swear what I'm wearin' now could walk t' th' laundry on its own."

Andrace kept a stream of light chatter going all the way up the stairs, talking about the weather during her journey (typically wintery, with a blizzard or two to break the monotony), how many times she'd had to change trains (four), places she'd seen in the rickshaw ride from the station that she hoped to visit before leaving; nothing substantial. She followed the signs to room 674, opened the door, and surveyed her new, if temporary, territory with satisfaction as she set down her backpack just inside the door. The minibar caught her eye, of course, but she spared a glance for the spectacular view of Damaske Castle itself through the large picture window, then the huge and decadently comfortable-looking bed, before she spotted something that she'd been looking forward to all day.

"A shower — great!" she growled. "Just what I need: m' fur's all knotted up, an' I'm sure that train seat's left an imprint on m' backside!" Horatio didn't quite see what Andrace did with the tight lacing down the front of her red leather jerkin, but a second later it was flying towards the bed as the lioness strode determinedly towards the open bathroom door. The black silk shirt underneath draped over the bedside table, then she kicked her trousers off in the direction of a stool. The fox just had a fraction of a second to notice she'd been completely accurate about the train seat before the lioness' bra flopped down over his eyes and wrapped itself around his muzzle.

It seemed a little hard to discern at the time, but as Rynkura finally made her way down into the lobby, there seemed to have been many more voices than before mingling into a crowd and socializing.  The tigress hid some amusement in her seemingly-aged green eyes...she didn't really think that time of year was the perfect time for tourists.  But having not seen the place in tens of years, who knew when it was anymore?  The ball ought to have had something to do with it.

There were little to no familiar faces around, either.  But the Healer was never one to be concerned about that.  Instead, she simply followed her nose to the smell of a meal off into the dining hall.  And she being true to angel and tiger heritage alike, there may have been some fairly elaborate special involving meat that pricked the senses first.

At first it looked like there wouldn't be a seat to claim, with so many coming in to sate their hunger.  But contrary to that, there was a readily available booth nearby that she set her eyes on.  Whether she noticed or not, there didn't seem to be any argument letting the woman have it either.

She walked off into the area towards the seat, silent as a shadow of white, only perhaps more inconspicuous.

Jeremiah made his way down to the room with the velvet painting... And nothing else. Alone in that room that looked like it hadn't seen use, let alone a good dusting, in years was a comparatively brand new seeming painting, covered by a crisp red velvet cloth. The frog didn't pay it too much mind; big place like this was sure to have spare rooms, it was probably just being used as backup storage for the party. He lifted up the cloth to get a peek, grinning at whatever may be under said cloth just a-waiting his appraisal. He leaned forward, head under the cloth to take a look...
... Huh.
Not an artist he recognized, but it was very well done. Interesting subject matter, too. They managed to capture the play of light across it really well. Quite lovely, if a little more mundane than he'd been hoping for. Then again, everything looked dark and slightly red when looked at under the velvet. He may have missed details. With a shrug he lowered the cloth back in place and carefully hefted the frame, making his way out the room and down toward the ballroom. Anything to keep away from those boring potato peelings.

   Karazkt was slightly confused when the surfacer just walked off, but in the end, it didn't matter much. Either he came up in the wrong place, or the surfacers didn't have a proper network like an Insectis hive did. This changed things a bit, but not by much.
   He climbed back into the mech, fitting his two antennae into two intake ports behind him. They flared orange, and shot fire down the intakes. The mech's quiet rumbling turned back into its sustained growl, kicking the thing back into action. Karazkt set it into a course straight for the castle.

The library, once he had found it, was indeed a good choice. Nak had serveral pages of notes and references for when there was more time, and even the less helpful books had at least been entertaining. But now the demon began to realize the passing of the day and that he would have to rest soon. Making a couple of final notes, Nak started off to his room. He found the way back much easier than when he had gone for the library. Once inside the hearth, the ovine set to fixing the fire, lighting it after the logs had been laid. He sat in the chair and reviewed his notes before turning in for the night.

Kiet continued his battle of the smiles as he took possession of his room key and the business card, "thank you my good fellow."

He glanced over the card with its little message and absentmindedly tapped the front of his muzzle with his index and middle fingers, "interesting, an archaeologist.  To creatures who live for thousands of years, or I imagine are time travelers, archaeologists are comical at best.  Still, they can be fun.  It is bound to be fascinating if Durano feels it should be looked into... though the last time I went on a little adventure, it took a year for the fur on my tail to grow back."

After retrieving another key for Camoile and her staff, Kiet headed upstairs, passing an angel tigress intent on pursuing a meal in the dinning hall.  Kiet was happy that there appeared to be quite a number of interesting beings and creatures present.

Ascending to the third floor, Kiet and company located the thirteenth room.  Unlocking and carefully opening the door, Kiet found it to be a sizable suite fit for a high noble or a head of state.

It was within these walls that echoed an odd squeak, as the room's intended occupant flopped upon the voluminous cushions before zipping about the various side rooms.  The retainers tried ever so hard to not roll their eyes or shake their heads as the grandson of their founder pranced about like a kitten.

It was not that Kiet had ever been guest in establishments as fancy or greater, or that he had taken leave of his senses and lost all maturity that comes with age.  In actuality it was the first time that he was given rooms of this magnitude and had absolutely no responsibility attached to them, as well as the fact that for once he was actually free, free of stray thoughts, errant emotional drifts, and bursts of sensations from those around him.  His rooms were shielded, a very refreshing thing for a Cubi, and surprisingly uncommon in the world... despite its complexity of beings and creatures.  The subtlety of this little feature did not escape him, he was most certainly aware that the protection was more for others then himself.  The master of this affair was very aware of the game his people played so very well.

While Camoile and company arranged the luggage, Kiet dressed down into comfortable evening wear suitable for dining, a fine maroon silk shirt, black pants, comfortable shoes and a respectable, dark cloak.  He adjusted his glasses in the mirror, checked the Tekka was in its spot, and brushed a bit of dust off his sleeve. 

Leaving his mother's people to do their own thing, the ringtail slipped out of the room and headed downstairs.  He drifted about the dining patrons, making a sort of meal of his own and stealing tidbits of thoughts where he could.

Mel gestured to the nearby seat, indicating Aten was welcome to it. As the feline slid into the booth beside her Mel turned back to Cog and asked, "How long have you been here? Did you get in before that last blizzard? Our train was held up for hours. Try being in a train car with grandmother then. I have no idea know why she just did not move the snow away rather than get all huffy at it."

A silent and discrete waitress hovered nearby waiting patiently for attention. Mel gestured her over and ordered a drink. Something named in her native tongue so it probably wasn't particularly healthy to non-dragons.

Aten gratefully sat and waited a moment before speaking. he hear Mel speaking in her own language which he found incomprensible but then he expected no less as he never understood his uncle Eliander when he spoke the dragons tongue either. oddly thong he could almost hear slight difference in the language. when an opening in the conversation appeared he asked. "as a fist timer her and some one whom really would rather not start any wars is there anyone that you would recommend i steer clear of?"

Aruk continued to look down at the blade of his great grandfather's cane, when his stomach growls.

"Heh, I should have eaten something when I was on the train."

He returns the blade back to it hiding place in the cane and puts his jacket back on, then leaves the room and heads down stairs to get something to eat.

Elizabeth's ears slanted fractionally, the tapered ends flickering impatiently. Despite Tobias's charm, she felt slightly disappointed that the name that left his mouth was entirely different from the one she was expectantly awaiting. And when he wanted for her to introduce herself, she was reluctant to divulge her identity. After all, she had spent years dwelling in relative isolation, under an entirely new identity. She learned to live in constant fear of being discovered. But ultimately, pride won out over paranoia. Fair was fair, she supposed, since he had obliged her ridiculous and impulsive request. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth finally spotted her luggage, and she went to retrieve the trunk while still talking to Tobias.

"Elizabeth," she responded evenly. "Pleasure to meet you."

Somewhat effortlessly, Elizabeth twisted her trunk around and hefted it, resting it beside her. She was perfectly capable of bringing her luggage to the hotel, so Elizabeth decided not to trouble any of the employees. Besides, she was apparently late (or at least according to the deadline she organized in her head coupled with her perfectionist streak) for her arrival at the hotel. Coughing a little into her hand, Elizabeth decided to succumb to her curiosity once more, and possibly extend her conversation with the intriguing individual.

"I digress, it seems we're heading to the same location. Would you care to join me?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound too personal or grating with her invitation.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

No one to open the gates, and then they swung up all by themselves. A classic trick to unsettle someone, Elyse knew, and she frowned. It wasn't always as dramatic, but in this case... Walking down the path, snow crunching under her heels, she walked up to the gates, and felt somehow how some of the overwhelming air was taken out of the situation. Still, when she saw the knocker, and realized that she would have to announce her arrival in such a manner as to use it... She was somewhat uncomfortable with loud noises, not to mention with the concept of making one's presence known so outright. Frowning, she took a step back, turned a bit and looked around. There was no one in sight, no side doors or viewing windows or grates. Solid stone encapsuled her where she stood in the door archway, and she sighed. If she had to, she had to...
   Gently, she raised a hand and grasped the iron knocker, giving three solid but not too loud bangs of metal on metal, and then released the thing as if it were somehow filthy, rubbing her fingers together nervously.

"Dragons, probably." the black-clothed wolf said, giving the feline a polite smile. "But unless you rule a country, I imagine starting a war won't be a problem."

He rubbed at his eyes as Mel ordered her drink. The sibilant tones of draconic speech practically slithered across the table, nearly unintelligible to all but those raised to speak the language, but the waitress simply nodded politely, scribbled on her pad, and scurried away. Cog put his chin into his hand, leaning up on the table.
"That sounds like a very fun time, Mels." the wolf said, smiling dourly. "But I've always wondered why you take the train anyway. I guess moving the snow would have ruined the principle of the thing." he grinned, and shrugged. "But, I got here awhile back. Before the party rush."

* * *

Kiet's wanderings went largely unnoticed, most of the patrons simply too busy with their own personal activities to pay much attention to anyone else. If there was a class of people who had brought the art of ignoring others to perfection, it was royalty, and there was certainly enough bourgeoisie floating around to indifferently rule half the planet.

The dishes were varied, within certain limits. Undertones of excitement was a common garnish - the occasional red meat of anger, pepper-spicy irritation, sweet cakes of delight, carefully simmered roasts of amusement and the rare, occasional slow-cooked tenderness of true happiness. Delicious.
And then, something like gravel and pus and blood, nearly as strong as a physical blow. It wasn't entirely clear what emotion was being broadcast, but it was clearly something the incubus had never tasted before.

A hand touched Kiet's shoulder, gently pushing him to the side just a bit as someone walked between him and the fern to his right. A man in a long overcoat and leather hat brushed past, tipping his hat to the ringtail and muttering as he walked past, and towards the grand piano in the corner. A long, ragged gray tail swished beneath the bottom of the coat, and without pausing he put the hat on the smooth, lacquered surface, and sat down. His eye - the other one was gone, a large two-forked scar running over the milk-white orb - was the most virulent yellow he'd ever seen. The feline, mottled black-and-gray, cracked his fingers as he sat down, and flipped the lid of the piano up with a bang.
The room went silent for just a moment, conversation dwindling off with a surprised pause. The cat wasted no time, instead putting his fingers to the ivories and playing.

The sound was rich and smooth, delightfully mellow, and yet somehow off. Chords ended too soon, trailing into new ones that began too quickly, and ended up having the effect of making one's internal ear lurch around like a drunkard. Once one got used to it, it was quite pleasant, but even so, quite different.

Conversation resumed, but the ringtail was still left with that disgusting taste, lingering in his mind.

* * *

Horatio had followed the lioness to her room with barely a comment, merely a deferential 'Of course', and following at a polite distance behind. His shades prevented anyone from seeing where those green eyes were looking, of course, but one couldn't help but notice the small smile on the his face as he watched Andrace ascending the stairs in front of him. He responded politely to the lioness's stream of chatter, with a hint of amusement - he suspected that the actual content of his responses didn't really matter.
A short while later, they reached her room - and, with a moment's hesitation, the fox followed her inside.

He recognized the layout of the room quite easily - except that it wasn't made largely of ice, the sixth floor had a tendency to resemble the rooms in the Icewing fortress very much. He wondered absently if all the rooms looked like this, or if each one was modeled after a different chamber in the ancestral house, when his brain caught up to what his ears were hearing Andrace say. He turned.
And caught sight of Andrace's bare backside for two lovely, hip-rolling steps - knotted fur and all - before he felt something flop around his muzzle and around his eyes, obscuring. He coughed, and removed it daintily, laying the bra neatly on a nearby chair, and turning dutifully to the side. There was a slight grin on his muzzle, the arctic fox pushing his shades up firmly over his eyes.
"The things I do in the line of duty..." he said to himself, still grinning, and studying the walls very intently.

* * *

An otter turned, looked Goss up and down, and produced as though by magic a dazzling, dead-eyed smile. "Of course. This way sir, if you please."
A moment later, after looking him up and having him sign by the dotted line, she handed him an iron key emblazoned with his room number.

"We hope you have a lovely stay." she said, giving him a curt nod before excusing herself, ostensibly to attend to other matters more important than a badly-dressed human.

* * *

Ray seemed to visibly wilt, his ears folding flat against his head, and his expression growing very small. He nodded glumly to the smaller gryphon. "I don't...I...er...that's going to scratch the pavement something terrible..." he said, looking worriedly at the giant gryphon and the metal box he was pushing. "I...how does this sound." he said, his expression pitiful. "I'm going to walk to the stables. If you want to follow me, I'm sure that I won't be looking behind myself. A gryphon could move anything it wanted any-way it wanted then, you know?"

He sighed, and turned on a heel, walking towards the edge of the building and then around the corner.

* * *

Rynkura found herself quite quickly a white shadow on the wall. She was very nearly beginning to relax, until a waistcoated, bright faced waiter appeared in front of her, literally materializing from nowhere. His coat was buttoned, his hair slicked back - his notepad was embossed with gold leaf, and his pen had never heard of ball-point or gel, or anything since calligraphy cartridges were invented. Here was a man who was verily ready to wait the hell out of the world, and Rynkura was just another step up the ladder. His smile was very nearly predatory.
"Will mistress be dining alone, this evening?" he said, a gleam in his blue eyes.

* * *

Aruk found a table quickly - his status as a veteran garnered him a table fairly quickly, and a free drink that he couldn't pronounce, but fizzed rather entertainingly in it's glass. The staff's suggestion he drink it quickly weighed heavily on his mind, until strange, nearly otherworldly music poured from the piano in the corner. The table nearly turned a flip-flop before his brain adjusted to the odd cadence, and he realized that someone was standing next to his table. It was, in point of fact, a waitress, pen poised in her hand. She was beginning to give him a strange look - probably waiting for him to order something.

* * *

The path to the castle was long indeed - Karazkt had been traveling for ten minutes by the time he had gotten to the base of the small mountain upon which Damaske Castle was built upon. Fir trees, snow, and biting wind assaulted the denizen of the underground world, the warmth of the earth absent underneath the high-vaulted sky. Frost formed on the extremities of his mech, although it wasn't cold enough to really impede the machine's travel. The clank of iron and metal echoed throughout the forest, occasionally startling a family a birds, occasionally simply deadened by the ever-falling snow.

* * *

Jeremiah had just gotten done with setting the picture on it's hook, and putting the silk cover back over it before a loud knock echoed through the stone castle three times - another visitor. The badger's appearance, as though from thin air, almost went without saying.
Except that, when he appeared, Jeremiah was nowhere to be found. The badger blinked, frowning suddenly, and scratched his head.

Jeremiah was already walking down the hall, stepladder in one hand, and heading for the front entrance.

* * *

To her surprise, the door stayed closed for quite some time - almost suggesting that no-one was even there to answer it, the vampire bat being a day early to the festivities, and was simply wasting her time and money standing a very cold courtyard, before the door nearly slammed open with surprising speed. A frog carrying a stepladder blinked at her for a moment, the amphibian oddly juxtaposed with the icy climate.

* * *

"Of course. I've never been here before, you see." the fox said, picking up his own luggage of plain, squarish leather things. He gave her a charming smile. "And I'm afraid there were no maps on board the train. I was so disappointed! There were no maps at home either. Where I come from, you won't freeze to death trying to find a hotel, however." he grinned, walking with the succubus towards the carriage pool. A quick glance over heads and shoulders revealed a very long line, and no carriages in sight. He frowned, and gave the succubus a quick glance.
"It looks like it's faster to walk, I think. Shall we brave the tundra, then?" he said, laughing. Another smile.

It was faster walking, and they arrived at the hotel largely without incident. All along the way, Tobias talked about the weather at home - largely sunny, nary a cloud in the sky, and a few days of rain a year. He was from a very arid climate, nearly in the desert, where he and his compatriots made their living in the metal trade. This party came as a strange surprise, and a wonderful vacation for him. His hope was to scrounge business up from the nobility gathered, although he doubted any of them would care about iron imports at a party like this.
"Is it cold where you come from?" he said, dusting the snow from his shoulders as they entered the hotel and into blessed warmth.

 Aten smiled " as far as i'm concerned i'm not even cut out for the family business part of the reason for my extend vacation after i finished classes at" Aten brought himself up sort. he was not her to talk about himself he was hear to learn about the ball and if his family was some how using it to bring him back. Perhaps they wanted him to be a diplomat but that was not their decision. he  would pick out the path of his life not them.  " but i digress. you don';t want to hear about me. " that said he order a drink non alcoholic but then you didn't want to get drunk when you were trying to lead things.

Jeremiah gave the woman a quick once over.
Yeesh lady, shouldn't you be off trying to skin a bunch of dalmation puppies or something? It was one of those moments where he and Bal both thought something at the same time. Those moments were becoming worrisomely more frequent (worrisome for the both of them, for approximately the same reasons).
"Welcome to castle Damaske, madam!" The frog said cheerfully, professionalism belaying his first impressions, "You're a touch early, but if I may see your invitation I'll show you to a guest room forthwith."
Yeah! Nailed it this time!
Ooh! Ooh! Does it get a gold star?
Fuck you too, Plic.

If Jeremiah had expected a warm greeting in return though, he was fooling himself. The bat's expression never thawed more than moderately as she looked at him. Of course, inside she was heating up rather quickly, perceiving his mental remarks all too clearly, but she had learned long since that those things came no matter where or when, and that keeping composed in face of this was as easy as advantageous.
   It took all of three seconds to break down that composure though. While she stepped forward, putting down her bag, the chiropteran's expression grew from dismissive and chilly to surprised to disapproving. She blinked, then easily looked over the frog, behind him and around as far as she could see in the main hall, watching for a good while before returning her stare to the sleazy amphibian. The surprise gone from her features, once again chill dominated her expression. But now there was a tense wariness there as well. Or perhaps it was disgust. Not waiting any longer, she produced her invitation without flair.
   'If it's not an inconvenience then', she said, her voice, both crisper and stronger than the frog's, smooth but as frosty as her looks. 'And unless you'd rather leave the task to someone else.' Her eyes were not narrowed but hard as stone, and Jeremiah felt as if he could almost sense a headache coming on just from feeling that gaze alone.

"And miss out on making such a vision feel at home? Not a chance!" Hag. Probably a lousy tipper, too.
I like her.
You would. A small part of him was willing to concede that it was unpleasant out, and thus her behavior may not be completely out of the blue. A significantly larger part didn't care at all.
"There are guest rooms on the third floor, I'll show you right up." He offered another friendly grin. Always be polite in the face of adversity. Nothing pisses it off more. "This way, madam."

Kiet leaned heavily against the wall catching breathes in short gasps.  Countless millenia he has dwelled in lands near and far, all manner of mental whisps he has grasped, but none as vile as what he had caught in passing.

The cat finished his first tune and a single clap interrupted the stunned pause.  Before any other patron could chime in with their own appreciation, a dark form drifted up to the open area to the right of the piano.

Kiet's eyes narrowed to near slits, a burning sneer crossed his muzzle showing pearly, sharp teeth as he approached the other feline.  He paused just before reaching him, his cape exploded outward, billowing to and fro as his arm jutted out from his side.  In his hand was a bow, but not one meant for arrows and in his other rested a violin so dark red, it was nearly as black as coagulated blood.

His expression softened immediately, "I canna, say that this little thing can match the ivories of the piano... its a whole different type of instrument.  However, what ya have bein playin is a tad eclectic for this room.  I thin the lads and lasses need a little speed in their music."

Kiet fiddled a very brief, lightning fast few chords before pausing, "now, this has a bit of a story to it... all fiddlin has a tale ta spin.  This little song involves an immortal soul... nary did this recently spiritually disenfranchised lad have a second to spare, nor anything to give but this challenge."

Kiet paused, as if reliving a moment in time, "now for this lad, the stakes were down... all he could do was challenge his gran to a game for it... the only way he could, with a fiddle.  And this is how it went."   

The ringtail began with a song wild and passionate... chaotically it drew all who heard it through a cacophony of emotional ranges stretching them to near nervous collapse.  the end was like the sharp crack of a mind snapping under mental strain.

The second song, his song, was a rush a dizzying chords that wrapped themselves around a person's heart, forcing the organ to beat at the pace of the fiddler.  Each jump in chord, affected the listeners, causing hearts to skip, flutter or leap with an alarming pull.  The furious end was just short of what would have been needed to burst a being's heart, but Kiet reigned in his own emotions just in time to halt that near fatal note.

Amid the swirling cloud of shaved horse hairs, the ringtal's head popped up, locking his eyes with the lone yellow orb of the piano playing feline, "sorry again, but your piano work inspired me to rehash an old appointment..."

He offered his hand, "I am Kiet... you are?"

   

Andrace strutted into the bathroom with a parting swish of her tail and opened the shower stall. She had a small, tight smile on her muzzle and one ear cocked back towards the suite's main room. She'd noticed Horatio paying more attention to the room than to herself. She'd certainly given the fox an eyeful to concentrate on, and possibly a snoutful as well, if the cough she'd heard meant her last toss over her shoulder had been properly aimed. Just a little distraction to soften up her target... normally the lioness didn't like to rush things when she tried to "persuade" someone to give up information, but if this mysterious meeting was going to be in just an hour or so, she didn't have much time to waste.

She thought furiously as the hot water and shampoo soaked into her pelt, soothing her stiff muscles and washing the last few days' travel grime from her fur. Her smile was washed away as well. The family had dealt with Icewing Clan before: two or three times in the last few hundred years, if the oldest musty records in the Kithara archives were accurate. The information they'd traded then had been valuable, but the price had very nearly scared Andrace's fur white when she'd read about it. Those deals had been negotiated by the family matriarchs and their sneakiest, twistiest-minded advisors. And here she was, a single Pride member, about to meet the dragon clan's matriarch herself. Why? Was she about to be offered something? Would she like the price? Just worrying about that was likely to give her grey hairs before tomorrow...

A brief but thorough wash later, Andrace sauntered out of the bathroom, trailing wisps of steam from the shower stall. A large fluffy towel was wrapped around her hair, another round her waist, and a third — not quite long enough — draped (mostly) over her shoulders. "Won't be much longer," she said to Horatio with a cheerful smile. "One o' th' best furdryers I've ever seen in that bathroom, it'll get me dry an' fluffy in no time!" She picked up her backpack, propped it up on the bed, and started taking a few things out of it. A spare set of clothes, of a similar style and colour to the ones she'd worn on the train. A bulky, tightly wrapped bundle which she laid carefully at the foot of the bed. A grooming kit; and she rummaged about with her arm right down inside the pack before she finally came up again with fresh underwear.

"Don't go 'way now, I'll be right back," Andrace said to the fox as she tailswished her way back into the bathroom, the grooming kit in one hand and the bundle of clothes folded over her other arm. Horatio heard the furdryer running, then a few minutes later Andrace came out again, fully dressed and combing her still slightly damp hair.

"Right, let's get back downstairs!" she said eagerly. "I saw a bar on th' way in, there's a drink down there with my name on it!"

Goss' two suitcases were neatly packed into the corner of his hotel room, when he finally arrived. He sat on the bed and sighed. He didn't want to be here, not when he had work to do, people to meet, and an audit in five weeks.

He opened his bag. His dark grey formal military uniform, with matching mask, lay inside, along with his travel papers. He put these aside, and paced around the room, thinking about the ball, about the bizarre event in the street, and about how little he knew about what actually was going on.

"I need a goddamn break", said Goss, under his breath.

Goss lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and tried as much as he could to relax.

Elizabeth felt slightly relieved when Tobias accepted her offer, but didn't allow her face to betray this. She nodded her head politely, affirmatively, and with a strength visually disproportionate to her body, lifted the trunk and started to drag it through the snow behind her, its bulk drawing a giant, indented divot into the white powder. Using one of her wing-tentacles to handle the cumbersome luggage was tempting, but, undoubtedly, a stupid idea. Elizabeth anticipated being preoccupied throughout the whole venture to the carriages with the weight of her trunk and the potentially uncomfortable feelings it would create in her arms, but fortunately, Tobias was talkative enough to distract her. Elizabeth herself wasn't so conversational, but she appreciated the companionship, at least. The only issue was formulating an elaborate enough lie about her whereabouts. In the end, Elizabeth decided to take some of the truth, and omit and alter a few details.

Elizabeth nearly said something unintentionally morbid, like, If you die, I'll be sure to bring your cadaver to the hotel for you, but stopped herself. She wasn't sure if that kind of humor was appropriate. When she saw the wait in front of the carriages, she very nearly cursed. Instead, she uttered something indistinguishable and inaudible in her mother tongue and compulsively adjusted her robes. Tobias seemed frustrated, too, but handled it, at least, more gracefully than she did. The idea of walking through the snow didn't seem so inviting to her, but ultimately, she decided that Tobias was right. Elizabeth nodded - at least the humorous way he put the situation helped assuage her irritation. She returned his smile.

During their little adventure, Elizabeth listened patiently to Tobias's narrative, feeling very fortunate that no personal questions had surfaced yet. She knew next to nothing about iron imports, unfortunately. Occasionally, Elizabeth would offer some input or express some interest or something else, to let Tobias know she wasn't bored, or she'd rustle her luggage inconspicuously to alleviate the weight on her arms. In spite of this, she felt rather relieved to enter the hotel, since the cold was becoming a little tiresome. The hotel was comfortably warm.

Elizabeth settled her trunk down and shook her clothing, throwing the snow off of it. Finally, Tobias popped a question, and she answered automatically with the alibi she prepared. "Moderately cold, I suppose, but that's only natural in a mountainous region. When winter arrives it tends to snow a lot, and it gets very cold," she explained pleasantly, smiling a little.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

The restaurant really had a way of drawing people into its midst, with its combination of sweet-smelling foods and a sensation of beauty surrounding it.  Once again it showed that whomever built the hotel spared no expense, or at least very little expense.  Rynkura smiled in anticipation as she sat down, with her staff lying on her lap as she started to settle herself and take a look at the menu items, shown on a little preview slip on the table.

She hadn't looked for long, however, when a figure showed up in her sight as if materializing out of the air.  Glancing over, the tigress beheld a rather large musteline, an ermine in its white winter fur dressed in the fine uniform that the hotel staff boasted.  Rynkura noticed how quick he was at finding her table, and certainly how his eyes gleamed in the light as he waited for her answer.  Another in the hotel who was partial to old-fashioned manner, it seemed.

Usually it was hard to look predatory in front of a tiger, but he managed well.   Rynkura nodded with a quick smile.  "Yes, I will be," she answered simply, glancing back over the items again.  She'd have rather not kept him waiting, but it was hard to decide.  "And I'm rather partial to the steak here, or perhaps the pheasant.  Whatever that delectable smell is..."

The tigress glanced back up at the waiter, resisting the urge to lick her fangs.  "What would you recommend then, good sir?"

Tim blinked. "Push... " She turned around. "Oh, for... Rover! Lift, dammit! Lift!"

Rover looked down at the container. He looked back at Tim, confusion plain on his face. He looked back down at the container, and tapped it with one claw. Gave it a bit of a half-hearted push. Looked back beseechingly at Tim, who was tapping one paw.

"I said lift. Come on, there's a good boy."

Rover heaved a large sigh (not that he could give any other size, mind) and gripped one corner of the container in one paw, and, giving a mighty heave, lifted it onto his shoulders. Balancing it with one paw, he looked over at Tim. She smiled up at him, and said "OK, with me." and headed round the corner after Ray, who by this time was well out of sight, with Rover padding heavily at her heels.

Once round the corner, they discovered a grand addition to the hotel, the stables were set at right-angle to the larger building's sleek black glass. The ground was cobbled here, and the largest building was largely open-air - rough-hewn cedar and slats of wood making up the majority of the building. Two long doors on either side could be closed to secure the building, although it was obvious it would still be freezing inside. It was also obvious that the larger gryphon had no chance of fitting inside it. Ray nodded glumly. "Set it where-ever you like, as long as you don't block an entrance. There should be enough hay behind the building there to make a bed for... him."

Tim nodded, commented "He won't need the hay, I think," and directed Rover to park the container over to the side of the door, out of the way. It landed with a fairly hollow boom. She then shooed him around the building, interrupting his nosing into the door, and into the recommended place, where he could keep an eye on the container as well. "Stay here, ok?"

Rover nodded.

"This is bed, ok?"

Another nod, less eager, this time.

"And I'll see you in the morning." She reached into a pocket, and pulled out a furry, squeaky toy - roughly a foot long, it wasn't big in her paws at all - and threw it up into the air. Rover caught it, the poor toy vanishing with a distant, forlorn toot, inside one of his paws, which promptly went under his head. He smiled, curled up, fluffed up his feathers, wrapped his wings around himself, and closed his eyes. Then one opened again, swivelled around, and looked at Tim. She grinned, padded over, and, placing both paws on the massive beak, kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Rover. Sleep well." He grinned, and closed the eye.

Tim jumped down, and padded back over to Ray. "He should stay put, now that he has his teddy. I believe you said something about a room for me?"


(( OOC: Thanks, Cog. Lovely description of the stables. *steals* ))

   While it wasn't cold enough to really affect the digmech or Karazkt, it was still quite uncomfortable for him. He was literally out of his element. And when he was slapped in the face a the third time by a pine branch, he had enough. He pushed a lever, and the opaque metal cover slid over the cockpit. With the limited range of his infravision through it, Damaske Castle was no longer in sight for him. It didn't matter though, as he was easily close enough to feel it with his antennae, even through the mech itself. It really was hard to miss. He conjured up a quick and intense wave of fire and heat in the cockpit, warming it up considerably.
   Soon enough, the digmech rumbled up just outside the castle, and stopped at the wall. The barrier was rather unusual to Karazkt, but then again, so was everything else he had seen of the surface world so far. After puzzling over it for a moment, he decided it would be rude to go through it, since the surfacers couldn't have build it without purpose. Probably some sort of stone decoration, which Karazkt actually found somewhat appealing. He certainly would inform his hive about this unusual feature when he returned.
   Thus, he charged up some earth magic, fed it into the digmech, pointed the arms down, and released it. A wide, angled hole in the ground was blasted in front him, right in front of the wall. He maneuvered the mech into it, pulling several levers. A huge drill folded out of one of the arms, and an equally large spiked grindwheel on the other. They both started spinning rapidly, and the mech dug through the loose soil extremely quickly. In short order, he was digging up, and emerged in the castle courtyard on the other side of the wall. Now he was close enough to actually see the castle itself, even through the cockpit shield. However, it wasn't very clear, so he retracted the cover again.
   Now that he saw it clearly in his infravision, it was actually a little overwhelming to the Insectis. He was used to underground tunnels, but this...this was a massive structure of stone, on the surface. He slowly removed the goggles covering his eyes, wincing as actual sunlight touched them for the first time. He looked up at it, and his antennae froze.
   The sight was magnificent.
   The castle, in his normal-light vision sense, was utterly incredible. The sharp architecture was utterly alien to him, yet he found it immensely attractive. This massive stone monolith seemed to exert some awesome force over him, keeping him in a state of near-shock over the sheer impressiveness of it.
   After a minute or two of marveling over its details, Karazkt woke up enough to start the mech getting closer, and he steered his way towards the appropriately and proportionately huge castle doors.

Jeremiah was making his way down from the third floor, still grumbling from his encounter with what he had personally dubbed The Beast From Beyond Menopause when a rumbling noise shook the castle. One eyebrow rising to the classic one-o-clock "What the dancing hell?" position he made his way to a window to check on WHAT WAS THAT IN THE COURTYARD!?
The frog ducked back into cover with a muffled 'eep!' Before leaning out to check again, only to end with another frightened 'eep!' He finally worked up the nerve to study the disconcertingly large arrival for enough time to discern its mechanical nature, and that of its comparatively dwarfed pilot.
No. Nonononono, they didn't. Did they? Is that an INSECTIS?
Fuck, I buy it. You got a load of that last one, didn't you?
What's it riding? What the HELL is it riding?
It's pretty!
I approve of the overall design.
Heeheehoohehaaaheehehahooahoo...
Opinions from the peanut gallery duly noted and ignored. Hearing the badger's rapidly shuffling approach, Jeremiah paled. They expected him to show in an INSECTIS? Didn't they kidnap birds? He heard something about them kidnapping birds. He wasn't one, but who was to say this guy would know that?
Cowards make the best strategists. They think of everything.
"Old boy, wait. I need you to-"
"Already know, already know, there's a guest..."
"Guest? Where?" The badger looked out the nearby window in surprise, to the frog's chagrin. How could he have missed that noise...?
Or all the canapes you've nicked? Gift horses, sir.
"I was simply going to have you check to see what was caught in the woodchipper..." The badger murmured bemusedly, before doing a double take as if just realizing the frog was there. "Right then, see him in! Right to it! The woodchipper can wait..." The badger turned back to the window, murmuring something else softly to himself. Jeremiah, figuring ignored counted as dismissed, made his way down to the door to see in the latest arrival.
He opened the doors a bit more cautiously this time, gazing up at the gargantuan mech without even TRYING to hide how imposing the great steel construct was to him.
"Ah, hello!" The frog tried once, waving one hand to get the rider's attention, "Hello Sir! Or Madam!" He considered what he knew about insectis, "Or other! May I see your invitation?"

If the frog had forgotten about her, the bat did not mind so much. Any less attention from that kind of creep, she appreciated. For all she tried though, she could not understand what he was on, with those other voices. She had never heard something like that before, or seen anything quite like... Well, that was a mystery for another time. If any time at all. If there really was nothing more to it than a regular sort of illness or curse, she would not so much as touch him with tongs in order to find anything out. She was not obligated at all to help someone like that.
   Ignoring the amphibian's derogatory thoughts - they seemed to be all that lasted in that mind of his - the bat entered the room which had been prepared for her, a large, mostly open and sparsely decorated but stylistically solid and comfortable room that would not have been out of place in a larger, more luxurious hotel suite or in some of the noble's quarters or merchant palaces that she knew quite well. Perhaps more likely the latter. The walls were stone, after all. Not everything was plastered or covered. And the fireplace down the main room added a lot to the 'spooky old castle' image. So did the roofed bed. And the draperies and cold floors...
   Not about to get out of her boots, even on the luxurious carpets here, or make herself too home to leave in a haste for that matter, the bat simply set her bag down, and looked at the accommodations for a good half a minute. Then, spinning on her heel, she opened the door, and exited the room once again. If she could not figure out what was happening reasonably fast, then at least she would ascertain who and what was present, and how that might be used...

The grey wolf smiled. "It's got nothing to do with your family business, I imagine." he said, leaning into the table. "Just relax, you'll be fine. Trouble for you will be in the form of a very old dragon, and you don't sound like someone she'd want to antagonize anyway." he leaned back again, and sipped his drink.

The waitress form before returned, carrying Mel's drink. Something of an indeterminate, soapy color fizzed violently inside a polished quartz glass, which she set delicately in front of the snow leopard. She gave a slight smile at the feline, and walked off, leaving the drink bubbling in front of her.

"Surprising people get invited here. It's not all kings and queens, sometimes, but...ah..." the wolf paused. Someone was playing the piano rather strangely, and his face looked as though his insides had taken two steps to the left before his body could catch up. He and the various other patrons of the restaurant sat in discomfort until the song ended, at which time another tune started up. The vague murmur that was sulking in the room intensified, with various people alternatively looking sharply at the two playing their instruments, or looking somewhat ill and pushing their food away and walking off. The two beings managing the bar and the various waitresses began to scrutinize them, no longer certain if they were part of the scheduled entertainment - another one with a jacket to go with his waistcoat began walking briskly towards them.

Cogidubnus shook his head. "Whoever is in charge of the music is probably going to be shot." he said, his voice without a trace of irony.

* * *

The ragged cat looked at Kiet neutrally, keeping his hands on the keyboard as the ringtail played his fiddle. It wasn't long before the cat had closed his eyes in time with the music, and was nodding his head to Kiet's fiddle. His expression changed, from neutral discourtesy to simple rapture. The incubus's music was not moving so much as exciting, but the cat listened as though it touched his soul - hands still, barely touching the keys, clearly somewhere else entirely.

At the crescendo, however, as Kiet stopped short, the cat jerked as though slapped, and looked up at the Cubi angrily. A man with the hotel staff was approaching them both deftly, but the cat paid no attention, instead giving the cat a gut-twisting glare.
"Why didn't you finish?" he said, ignoring his previous question. There was a note of pleading in his voice. It was apparent the music had affected him far more than it should have - a tear glimmered in his yellow eye, a drop of blood in his white one. He closed the piano lid with a slam, making the patrons of the restaurant again jump. The suited panther approaching them made a face, his expression darkening with every exclamation from the hotel's guests. He put his hands on the piano, glaring at the both of them.

"Excuse me, I'm going to have to ask the both of you to le..."

The cat turned, giving the man such a look that he stopped short, leaning back. The black cat stood up, closing his eyes and tilting his head until his neck popped, and then deftly stepped between Kiet and the piano. He wiped his cheeks, blood and tears mixing on his sleeves.
"Of thirty bare years have I, twice twenty been enraged," he said, seemingly answering the incubus now. "And of forty been three times fifteen in durance soundly caged..." he faltered, continuing, "The moon's my constant mistress, the lovely owl my marrow; the flaming drake and night crow make me music to me sorrow..."

With the slow speed afforded of methodical, steady pace, it took a moment to realize he was quite nearly out of the dining area. He seemed to be talking more to himself now, continuing whatever strange answer he'd begun.
"I repose in Paul's with waking souls, yet never am a-frighted..."

* * *

"No doubt several, ma'am." Horatio said, opening the door for her. Despite his polite answer, Andrace could see that her tactic was at least having some effect. His face had flustered written all over it. Even so, his self control was remarkable. She'd thought she'd caught him stealing a peek once, although it was nearly impossible to tell with those shades of his on.

"The mistress should be ready to receive guests within the hour. Our humblest apologies for imposing on your vacation here." he said, following behind the lioness back down into the dining room. The crowed there seemed to have thinned since they were there last, so it was no problem navigating their way through and getting a seat at the bar. A pleasant looking raccoon cleaning a glass asked them for drink orders.

Horatio said something Andrace didn't quite catch. The bartender seemed to pause for just a second before nodding, and then turned to the lioness, reaching under the bar and producing a clear-stone glass. "And for the pretty lady, ma'am?"

* * *

Goss was contemplating how he was going to fall asleep at five O'clock in the afternoon, when he heard something tapping the window. A glance confirmed that there was, indeed, someone on his balcony that was not there before.
"Long time no see, Marshall." a man said, his face obscured by a high collar and a low-set hat. His mouth was set in a mean grin, and he had a long pistol in one hand.

"You don't know me, but I know you. A lot of us know you, Marshall Goss." he said, smiling that same, mean smile. "My luck here is plainly just stupid. I didn't know there was a soiree like this going on, but when I saw your face on the street..." he smiled darkly.

"For all the boys of Trent you've killed, Marshall." he said, lifting the long pistol. He made to aim it at the man, but at the last moment, he stuck it under his chin instead. His brains exploded onto the small balcony, blood and grey matter splattering the windows and pooling on the concrete floor.

* * *

"When winter arrives where I'm from, it's time to put on the long sleeved shirts." Tobias said, smiling kindly. "This kind of cold, it's just silly. I will say, I've never seen snow falling before. Even if cold like this should be illegal, I do like that." he said, and continued to walk inside briskly.

He got in line for the check-in counter. "But ah. Our pilgrimage is complete - thank you for showing me the way." he smiled at Elizabeth, his face kind. "And for listening to me ramble the entire way. My apologies, I don't mean to dominate the conversation. Ah, what brings you here anyway? I mean, did you got an invitation out of the blue, or perhaps you're the duchess of Zaphyren'ae, ah?" he said, his tone amused.

* * *

Ray simply stared at the massive gryphon, his expression indescribably forlorn. He nodded glumly to the smaller gryphon at his side. "Room 419, yes. Fourth floor, room 19." he said, handing over the key with some hesitation to the quadripedal gryphon - who managed to take it anyway, in a display of surprising dexterity for someone who used their hands to walk also. He sighed, and began walking back to the hotel's entrance. "I need to get back inside before this gets blame... to check people in. If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I'll just go back inside, now."

The clerk left the both of them with a shuffling walk, his pace increasing the farther he got away from Rover, the probable lawsuit.

* * *

The first thing Elyse noticed about the castle, was that despite the somewhat squarish, if impressively large, appearance of the castle on the outside, on the inside, vaulted ceilings, narrow, windowed corridors, and ornate decoration declared the interior decidedly gothic. It was extremely well-furnished, and as she explored she realized that it was far more spacious on the inside than it seemed on the outside. It would be very easy to get lost here, if you weren't careful.

The upstairs was largely bereft of other people - it seemed that she was early for the party. She didn't see any servants here either - probably all busy getting the ballroom and other areas ready for the ball the next day. Nothing immediately jumped out as out of the ordinary.
Something was bothering the bat, still, although she couldn't quite place it.

Eventually her wandering did take her to someplace where there was someone to talk to. An elderly mouse was just finishing with locking one of the wooden doors when Elyse turned the corner. He wasn't dressed in the uniform of the servants downstairs, but it was apparent that he knew he was supposed to be there, and Elyse was most certainly not. He straightened, putting the keys in his pocket, and giving the bat a stern look.
"Are you lost?" he said, frowning.

* * *

"The roast duck is excellent, and very hard to get this time of year." he said, proffering a menu. "I can tell the lady is fond of something she can...sink her teeth into. If she does wish for a steak, I heartily recommend it - it's won several awards. Alas, roast pheasant is not on the menu this evening, although I can talk to the chef and see if we could make an exception." he said, smiling.
"Shall I get you something to drink while you consider?" he said, pen poised.

   Karazkt was still admiring the castle when the doors opened slightly, admitting a very odd surfacer. Karazkt rather thought he looked like some sort of surface version of an ugly Mer, without spikes. Said surfacer then inquired if Karazkt had his invitation.
   "Yez...one momenT..." Karazkt said with a very peculiar accent, still glancing up awestruck at the architecture while ducking down to the bottom of the cockpit. He opened a small compartment, and from a small stash of items he plucked out a charred red envelope. The paper, it being something he wasn't very familiar with, apparently had been scorched when Karazkt conjured up his fire wave earlier. He extracted the letter from the ruined envelope, and fortunately, the letter was still mostly intact.
   The tips of two of his fingers then glowed brown, and and two pebbles flew up from the ground into his hand. With more brown glowing, he pinched the paper in between them, and then levitated it down to the waiting surfacer.

Andrace snickered and winked at Horatio as she walked out into the corridor. It might have been accidental that her tail tuft brushed lightly across his ankles. Or maybe not. She started down the stairs with a brisk stride. "An hour's plenty time f'r relaxin'," she replied, "an' I'm here on... business, I s'pose y' could say."

Halfway down, though, the lioness slowed for a moment. She didn't stop, but the fox, following behind, saw one of her ears twitch back, and her right hand shifted as if about to grab a weapon, although she appeared to be unarmed. What was that... she thought, did I hear...? No, nothing. The noise had been so faint she wasn't sure she'd really heard something. It could have been anything: something dropped on the top floor, a door closing in one of the nearby suites, maybe even the plumbing. She'd heard plumbing make all sorts of weird noises, even in fancy places like this. She dismissed the thought with another flick of her ear and continued down the stairs. She paused for a moment at the bottom, glancing at the windows to make sure there were no giant Gryphon eyeballs looking back in at her.

"Ah, now this is more like it!" Andrace said as she strode through the thinning crowd in the dining room and perched on a tall stool at the bar. She hooked one paw around one of the stool legs, and curled her tail around another. She was just about to reply to the cute raccoon in hotel livery with "I'll have th' same as th' handsome foxy here," with a mischievous grin directed Horatio-wards, when she saw what was being poured into his glass. It was greyish, and it bubbled and burbled like a tiny volcanic eruption. And most drinks weren't poured from a bottle held in long-handled metal tongs, while the barman held a filter mask over his muzzle. The lioness had a strong stomach, and had proved herself capable of drinking most of her brothers and sisters under the table on a regular basis, but there were limits. "Ah... I'll have a brandy," she said finally after a few eye-boggling moments. "A Cross Reserve '83 if y' got it." She fished her key out of a pocket in her jerkin and let the raccoon see the room number on its tag.

The first drink went down Andrace's throat in a couple of gulps. She sighed with contentment and nodded to the raccoon for a refill, nudging her glass over the countertop. Her tailtip flicked leisurely from side to side as she turned towards Horatio and leaned against the bar, sipping more slowly at her second drink. "So, what brings y' out here t' th' back o' beyond?" she asked, cautiously eyeing the tectonic processes going on in the fox's glass. "Does Icewing come here f'r th' Masque often?"

Tim blinked at the clerks rapid exit, and shrugged. Maybe he had other work to be getting on with. Oh, well. She took one last glance over at Rover - now snoring peacefully, interspersed with well muffled squeaks from the toy in his paw - and headed after Ray, hoping to at least get a few moments rest before morning.

Having eaten earlier (with the big fellow around, you made sure he ate early and often; if you got caught short, you were in big trouble) she figured there was nothing more going on between now and morning. So she padded quietly around the front, in through the entrance, across the lobby - pausing to briefly sniff the smells coming from the dining area, and notice the tall lioness from earlier heading for the bar - and headed quietly up the stairs.

Once she reached the sanctity of her room, she opened the door, deposited the key on the table there, and looked around.

And gasped.

It wasn't often she got a hotel room; to be honest, she didn't usually get more than a stretch of field where Rover happened to have planted himself on any particular evening, with, if she was lucky, some of his wing to protect her from the elements; heck, having a fire to huddle round on snowy evenings was an unexpected luxury. But this? This was... well, there was only one word for it. Impressive.

She padded through the room. Well.. not a room, more of a suite. Well appointed bathroom, bedroom, hallway, a small room for, well, it looked like entertaining guests in. Not that she was likely to have any here, but having the facilities available was just impressive. Sufficient storage for more clothes than she owned, let alone had with her; admittedly, with Rover, carrying space was never really an issue, but even so...

She flipped off her travelling robe, and hung it in the cupboard, before going to check out the options available in the bathroom.


An hour or so later, much refreshed, very very impressed, and slightly sodden in the few places she'd missed drying, she collapsed into the (very oversized, and very comfortable) bed.

To sleep the sleep of the dead. At least until morning...

... with any luck.

Ignoring the man of the hotel staff for the moment, Kiet silently observed the strange cat.  He blinked at the somewhat anapestic response, and did not respond.  Such persons as this were always a good sign of interesting times.  Heedless of those around him, the incubus squeaked slightly and tensed, barely able to hold himself back from exploding with glee in a manner akin to that of a school girl... a Japanese school girl from manga.

"oh what fun this place and this ball will be!" 

The ringtail sobered a bit.  It was quite clear that the cat had known what that final note would have meant, and he the black one had wanted, no needed to hear it.  Almost as an afterthought, Kiet finished the tune, though the emotional, charged energy was gone.

Spinning in place, cape billowing as his hands disappeared behind his back.  His violin and bow slipping into some unseen space.  Kiet then stepped forward, a mischievous grin of glittering white across his muzzle as he approached the one who had seen fit to interrupt them.  He moved quickly, maneuvers that would scream aggressive deadly action, but stopped short of delivering a fatal blow.  Instead he held out a simple lollipop, a pink confection that smelled strongly of musk.

"Do be a good lad and be sure you eat all your vegetables before you have the lolly."

Kiet drifted back off into the dining area, looking for anything else interesting that might happen.

Jeremiah snatched the invitation away from the pebbles nervously. Yep, INSECTIS it's an INSECTIS invitation INSECTIS INSECTIS ACK! DANGER WILL ROBINSON! The frog coughed once and continued. "Yes, this seems to be the real deal. Welcome to Castle Damaske, Mister," he guessed, and then squinted at the invitation once to make sure he had the name right, "Kaz, Kazarked... Karazkt. Mister Karazkt. Welcome. We have some guest rooms made up for early arrivals, like yourself, but you'll need to find someplace nearby to keep your ve, vehic..."
Jeremiah had noticed the Hole.
It was obviously a professionally made Hole, judging by the smoothness of the sides and the sheer size it had reached without collapsing. What was more interesting, however, was how it went right under the wall and came up right in the middle of the rosebushes.
The lad would never have seen a wall, he's used to living underground. Separations don't have to be built, it's free space you have to work for...
It was too much. The frog burst out laughing.

Rynkura listened to the ermine's answer with quite an open mind.  On the inside, she was salivating.  Duck, steak...rather unfortunate about the pheasant, but still there was a chance for some award-winning meat to be served in front of her, a culinary slice of heaven waiting for the angel, so to speak.

The Healer hummed quietly, a sort of hungry murr to her voice,  before smiling back and closing the menu.  "Kind of you to offer about the pheasant...perhaps next time.  I shall try the steak.  And as for a drink, a smidgen of red wine if you would not mind."

As the tigress made her decision, her ears happened to just then catch the ending of a very peculiar musical piece played at the piano by two individuals, ending in a slightly abrupt fashion.  Rynkura's eyebrows quirked, an ear turned back, but she just shook her head.  The only atmosphere in her mind that probably would have no right to be disturbed was to be the ball later on.

"Interesting entertainment...albeit unexpected," she muttered with a short chuckle and handed the menu back to him.  "Thank you, good sir."

She leaned back on the seat afterward, beginning the wait for her food with a simple bit of people-watching.

"All sorts of people are invited. Variety is the spice of life they say," agreed Mel as her drink arrived. As she picked up the bubbly drink in its special glass she noticed Horatio at the bar and waved at him before taking a sip of the concoction. Not because she really wanted to attract his attention but because she was trying to act like she wasn't hiding out and trying to avoid him would catch his attention. Then the odd, awkward music assaulted the ears. She nodded agreement to Cog's assessment of the musical act. "Good thing Grandmother is not here to hear that."

Elyse's first instinct was to go back and search from where the frog had left her. He had been intent on seeing someone else, she was fairly sure of that. And stowing her in her room and keeping her as far away from things not supposed to be seen should have been his intentions in the first place. Especially with his opinion of her. It was just that the matter of them having gone fairly straight from the entry hall up to the room made this reasoning ineffectual. So, she concluded, she really had no clue as to where to go. Better then to find someone to go to instead. She probably was not allowed to walk around as she wished, but someone else...
   Wandering the castle yielded little at first. There was nothing to be observed, and there seemed to be terribly few people about to discern any information from. Not only that, but there was this nagging, annoying feeling that something was not quite right that she simply could not shake. At last though, she lucked out. And quite well, on top of that. She eyed the keys slipping into the mouse's pocket for half a moment longer than anything else of him.
   'Who isn't?' she replied to the wizened little man. 'Frankly, people mostly only think they know where they are going and what they are doing. In life in general, or otherwise.' Smirking, just a tad deviously, she narrowed her gaze at the man. And slowly, she reached out with a sliver of her will toward him. She was cautious though. It was just a careful touch, really, to discern whether if she could have him more compliant or not. Who knew what sort of protective charms some people wore? 'Now, just what do you think you are doing, and where do you think I am going?'

Aten smiled understanding he feelings. his own uncle would problem have made the poor want to be artist  wish for a swift painful death before he was half done chewing him out over the poorly selected and even more poorly  implement's ,noise selection. to call it music was and insult to the art..

"In a ways it's good to know that i may simply be a quark in the gears. but still i makes me more curious as to whom invited me and what your story is good sir ."

   Karazkt said nothing as the surfacer stumbled over his name a little, which was understandable. What wasn't understandable, however, was when the peculiar surfacer burst out in a series of uncontrolled verbal spasms. After a moment, Karazkt deduced that it had to be the surfacer way of laughing. As to why, Karazkt could not begin to fathom what he found so funny.
   "You are...laughing. Why are you laughing?" Karazkt asked quizzically. Then Karazkt followed where his gaze had gone, and realized he had been looking at Karazkt's hole under the wall.
   Karazkt continued to speak with his very unusual accent that was slightly hard to decipher. "WhaT iz iT you find humorouz over there? I azzumed thaT the zTrange zTruKTure iz zome zorT of a zTone deKoration. While any zingle WorKer Kould eazily repair zuch a zimple thing, I thoughT iT mighT be...'rude', iz it? ...To go through iT."
   Before Karazkt had left his hive-city, he had been taught the basics of 'diplomacy' by a few of the Zizidronacht's Princes and Princesses. The very understandable frustration of all parties at the disturbace of the natural order aside, one of the things they had told him was that surfacers were an extremely finicky lot, and they took offence to the slightest disruption of their own constructions, even things that were considered trivial or even natural to Insectis. Karazkt assumed the wall was one such thing the surfacers might take exception to, even if it had just a simple hole in it.

"Sorry, I'm sorry..." Jeremiah wiped away a tear and tried to make his laughing die down. "It's... It's a thing, with folks up here." The frog couldn't help but like the individual who just seconds ago made him a nervous wreck; the lad seemed to possess that special breed of stupidity that's only capable of flourishing when you try to grow intelligence in the dark by itself. Not only were such people amusing because they would never notice a 'kick me' sign on their back no matter how many times they were kicked, but by and large they were usually honest to a fault. Jeremiah could remember BEING that kid in his younger days. "Digging near, around, or into our structures. Kind of a thing. Like..." He thought for a minute. What did he know about insectis...? "If someone from another city dug right into your center of government or treasury or something. Plus, you came up in the middle of the gardens." The frog gestured with one narrow-fingered hand to the disarray that was once been some rather carefully tended roses. "Here, lets see if we can keep your gizmo out of sight. With any luck nobody will know you did it if they don't see this huge bloody thing." He rapped his knuckles on the side of one of the hands, knocking off some of the caked-on dirt, and nearly cracked up again. "Come on now, lets hide this."

Aruk looks down at the drink and its robust fragrance, when finally with a sigh he says
"Well, those who dare win." and with that grabs the glass and downs the drink.

"Cough! m-huh. w... Cough, well now that's a strong drink. Cough!"
He wipes a tear away from his eye.
"Now then..." he picks up the menu and looks it over.
"I'll have the steak with skinned potatoes."

"How would you like your steak?" the waitress ask in a somewhat impatient tone.

"Medium rare, as for what to drink... What would you suggest?"

"Well we have an exceptional choices of wines that you could chose from."
The waitress hands him the wine menu and he makes his selection.

"I'll have the 'Zwarte Nacht' red wine."

With order and empty glass in hand the waitress leaves without another word.

   At the surfacer's comment on something digging into the middle of an Insectis center, it was Karazkt's to laugh, or do something that somewhat resembled it. He started making a sound like a stuttering buzz, but more noticeably, his antennae waved in a rhythmic, yet slightly erratic, fashion.
   "You zay thaT az if iT were pozzible To enTer a hive-ziTy unanTizipaTed..." Karazkt resumed his own way of 'laughing' for a moment, then quieted. "Hide my digging machine? Odd...buT if you zay zo."
   Karazkt tunred some valve knobs, cranked a few levers, and the digmech started plodding forward.

 The one-eyed black cat left the hotel without being apprehended, somehow - the feats that can be accomplished walking calmly and unobtrusively can be incredible, if only one can seem like they know where they're going. The cat was going where the hotel wanted him to go besides - outside, and away.

Dust gathered and tangled in its tangled locks, the feline staring moodily at the black-glass structure from across the street. The setting sun glinted off the smooth glass, and long shadows furrowed through the rosily-colored snow as the cat shook his head. Unnoticed by anyone else, it muttered to itself, and pulled its scarf a bit tighter round its neck, adjusted it's gloves, and huddled in its coat against the wind as it started tottering towards the distant castle, leaving a twisting and winding trail of footprints up the mountain path.

* * *

As Kiet began to move in ways that screamed hostility and lethal action, the black-and-purple suited panther's eyes widened with not only fear, but palpable rage. Even as the Cubi moved, a full two dozen pairs of black, humorless suits tensed and reached inside coats, most moving in front of their respective nobles and dignitaries promptly and efficiently. In the space of a breath, every eye in the room locked on the incubus, and when the Ti'Pallo produced a lolly instead of a bladed tentacle, very few people laughed indeed.

The panther took the sweet from the Cubi's hand delicately, directing a withering stare at him as he put it in his coat, and turned quietly without saying a word. A full half of the restaurant got up soon after, men in suits giving him hard, mirror-lensed stares, while the well-dressed bourgeois alternatively ignored or glared practically hateful stares at him. It was quite some time before the hushed stares resumed conversation once again.

* * *

Horatio relaxed, deciding to let the quartz glass breathe again, and smiled an apologetic smile at Andrace. "My apologies." he said, choosing not to address the subject further. His glass of whatever-it-was remained untouched, however, simply bubbling and fizzing to itself contently.

"To answer your question, though," the fox began, clearing his throat and shaking his head just slightly. "The masque is what brings us here, yes. Icewing is here...quite frequently. Almost on a first name basis with the staff." he said, smiling slightly. "Which can be good or bad, depending on who you ask."
"Of course, the staff rotates itself, and humble servant of the family that I am, I've been here only once or twice myself. Of course, to someone humble like myself, I simply wonder what brings such a pretty lioness to the back o' beyond..."

Positioned as they were, Andrace didn't have a clear view of the white fox's left hand, although she certainly felt it pinch her backside just once.

* * *

Cogidubnus shook his hand loftily. "I received an invitation, and here I am." he said simply, drinking down the rest of his drink while a slightly disturbed waitress set Aten's in front of him, retrieving the wolf's glass while she was there. "As for who invited you, the anonymous benefactor of the ball chooses to remain anonymous." he said, smiling slightly. He nodded to Mel. "I imagine if he asked your grandmother, though, she'd be able to tell him, yah?"

* * *

Surprisingly quickly, the waiter was back with her plate in his hands, and with a flourish, set the platter in front of the waiting tigress. Lightly seasoned meat with mashed potatoes, a touch of garlic and greens, and steamed carrots stared up at the Ryn, the succulent, tender meat practically falling apart on the table already.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waiter said, placing a napkin and a set of silverware in front of the healer, and waiting for her response with one hand in the other.

* * *

Aruk's meal was a little while in coming, but the wine came quickly, and about halfway through the glass the steak followed it. Juicy and tender, with steaming potatoes on the side, it looked like a meal fit for a king. The waitress gave a small smile, and after placing his silverware on the table, left him to enjoy it.

* * *

Elyse's sliver of will touched the man delicately, and the vampire bat caught the faintest glimmer of the interior of the mouse's mind. Among the levels of mental hygiene she'd seen, it was the most disgusting psychological landscape she'd ever seen before - disgusting, like the bloody floor of a slaughterhouse, and yet impressive, complicated as a spider's web, the mental balance as delicate as a thread of silk. Her mental finger brushed the surface, searching for the entry to the mind, before quite abruptly the mental intrusion was rebuffed, much in the same way an unwelcome finger is snapped in two.
The strength was hideous. The will behind it was absurd, a product of the primal desire and intensity of  the insane - as at this point, after seeing inside his head, it was quite obvious the mouse was horribly, thoroughly mad.

His expression, formerly irritated, was now vicious. Spittle dripped form the corner of it's mouth as it gripped a dagger with bone-white knuckles. Tendons stood out on it's arm, it's bicep trembling, before with a bloodcurdling scream it hurled itself at Elyse.
And stabbed itself in the eye.

It hit the bat with a thump, crumpling and falling into her. Blood spurted from the eye, running down the mouse's face and onto Elyse too, a hideous crimson stain splotching onto the pure snow white of her dress. In the creature's death throes, it thrashed - pawprints of blood dotted her side, streaks of sanguine color ran down her chest before the mouse, seconds later, expired.

Goss stared straight into space, not even reacting to the intruder, not even after he had killed himself right in front of him. He began breathing heavily. Without saying a word, he began to clean up.

The body went into the closet, while the blood was cleaned up as best as possible from the balcony. The small amounts of blood that got on him were washed off in the sink. Then, Goss picked up the room phone, and dialed his contact number.

We're sorry, but calls to this country code ha-

Goss slammed down the phone, picked it up, and called the front desk. The receptionist picked it up.

"Front desk, do you need assistance?"

Goss took a deep breath, and pulled himself together as best as possible.

"Yes, uh, I was wondering..."

He thought about the words of the intruder, how he hinted of others like him.

"I was wondering if, uh, if anyone's asked to see me? I'm not expecting visitors, but, you never know, right?"

Aten sipped his drink tried to digest what he'd found out. this was more then he's expected. on one hand he could be a quark on the other he might be a surprise guest of the dragonnes head of Ms Mel's family. but give that he was forced to wonder. How would the dragoness Matriarch  even know of him? and if she did why would she care? but then he couldn't ask that now. instead he's wonder and maybe ask her later. he sipped his drink again. then guested to the waitress so that he could order a meal. he had the felling he'd need something on his stomach.

Andrace smiled enigmatically at Horatio over the rim of her glass. The lioness appeared to be taking frequent sips, but it would take a second, or even a third glance, to notice that the level in her glass was only going down very slowly, if at all. "That's all I'm really 'lowed t' say 'bout it yet, just... business," she said. Her tailtip fluffed out for a moment and her ears flicked up to an alert posture as she felt claws meet with a delicate pinch at her rump.

Easy now, girl, she thought, y' got him on th' hook, now r'member what Mum taught y' — play him a bit, give him a bit o' slack, then one good hard yank an' y' got y' hook set firm in his muzzle... or wherever else y' want it.

Outwardly, Andrace's only other visible reaction was to widen her smile and slide her elbow a few inches along the bar, leaning forward a little to improve the fox's view down the front of her shirt. "I been thinkin' though," she said after holding the pose for a couple of seconds, "what it is y' mistress wants wi' me. Here I am, fresh off th' train, an' Herself points me out an' says she'll talk t' me. I'd bet that don't happen t' many. I'm beginnin' t' wonder if my business is Icewing business. Hmm...?"

She raised one eyebrow questioningly and directed the full force of her best of-course-you-can-trust-me expression at the fox. Outright asking Horatio directly like this was a long shot, she knew, but it was the only thing that made any sort of sense in the brief time she'd had to consider the situation. If her "employer" was only a diversion, then she was about to meet her true employer upstairs, in the dragon's lair.

Much of the interesting troubles that had befallen a few of the other guests went unbeknown to Rynkura as she made herself more comfortable in the seat, awaiting her food and taking in the sensory delights of the dining hall.  But the angel, wings hidden, knew just how to keep herself still alert, and she found herself wondering about the party that would be held the next night...and who the benefactors were.  Who had known the nobility in her old family name.  Who sent out the invitations.

Perhaps it was just the air of inherent curiosity in all of feline-kind, but the Healer could not help but feel like she had to keep on her toes.  It was a sense that seemed all but lost to her since the end of her paladin days.

But it was an easy thing to forget, once the ermine, with admirable diligence, returned with her plate.  Oh, the meat looked like it had been made out of heaven.  The scent of the food coiled around her acute senses and made even her disciplined stomach grumble just one note.  Paired with the wine, it was all but perfect.

"It looks wonderful.  That will be all for now, my good sir," the tigress replied, bowing her head with a smile, as showing sincere thanks within the confines of her calm and elegant poise.

When the waiter left, hopefully satisfied with the answer, Rynkura took in the scents of the meat and the vegetables before graciously digging in; lending the attention to naught but her eating.  So long as there wouldn't be more unfavorable distractions in the dining hall, Mistress Msh'taan was content.

Once the mech was stored away in a clearing in the woods Jeremiah had found the other day he led the insectis back to the castle.
"... The kitchen is downstairs, ballroom's to the left of the foyer, and I'll show you up to your room. If anyone asks you about the hole in the gardens, you have no idea what happened. Any questions?" The frog smiled pleasantly.

Before the little man managed to land on her completely - disgusting thought; to have that sort of thing touch her! - Elyse's anger flared up, and a ripple seemed to pass through the air as an invisible force hit the mouse's body with a disgusting smack. Blood spattered about, and with a face that held equal parts shock, disgust and fear, the bat took a couple of shaky steps back. The mouse's body, hovering, suddenly shuddered and was thrown in the other direction, bouncing into a wall which lodged that knife even deeper into the old thing's skull, and then falling flat onto the ground. Looking around with paranoia, Elyse shivered still with the creeping, chilling feeling of the man's madness. He had stabbed himself in the eye! Himself! That madness was...?!
   Eyes shooting down, suddenly the bat looked at the blood spatter on her clothes and her fur, and had to resist a sudden urge to sick up or to tear the clothing from her skin. What if that thing had been infectious? She had heard of stranger things. Far stranger. And in Furrae, most people made very, very deep inquiries into the dangers before they went into unfamiliar country. At least on the frontier, or in the fringe edging on Creature domains. Even if it were a specific thing, it might be something that transferred by blood nonetheless. It was the Icewings, after all. Feeling her knees buckle, the bat put her utmost into not panicking, and focused.
   The first piece of cloth fell off her, and seemed to disintegrate into shimmering dust mid-air, and then many more followed. Little red droplets fell onto the cold stone floor as the bat methodically shapeshifted every last little drop, every smudge, away from her, pushing the resulting dust and strips of cloth and residue away and creating new pieces of garment in place of those lost. Once done, she took a moment to gather herself, and then cast a glaring pair of eyes toward the body laying on the floor more than a couple of dozen feet away. Very, very carefully, she prodded it with a sharp, jabbing force. There was no response other than an uncomfortable feeling, but just to be safe, she let that force push its way through his neck, breaking it and making a sizable hole, before even approaching the body. Then, carefully, without touching him, she relieved him of his keys, and let them float over into her hand.
    What a nice start to the evening, she thought to herself.

   Karazkt was quite confused when the surfacer had him "hide" his digging machine in the clusters of strange tall solid plants, but went along with it. While he was shutting down the mech, he set some levers, turned some knobs, and fed a little dormant magic into the boiler. If anyone tried to start up or move the mech without disengaging the proper controls, the mech would immediately activate and the engine go into maximum uncontrolled overclocking. In that state, the mech would tear itself apart and explode in moments. The secrets of Zizidronacht technology will not fall into the hands of a rival hive. Karazkt was almost sure this was a ploy to separate from him his mech, thus leaving it vulnerable to theft. However, it did seem rather blatant, even to him.
   Returning to the great stone structure with the surfacer, he listened as the surfacer described various chambers of the castle. The surfacer then asked if Karazkt had any questions. His smile was completely lost on the Insectis, though.
   "Yez. I do. WhaT iz thiz hive-ziTy, and who iz the Kween? Theze deTailz were noT given To me, a mozT unusual proToKol omission."

Kiet made light of every hateful stare and gathered its emotional power into himself.   An ecstasy in which he revelled, a delicacy more subtle then the finest fillet.  The charged whirlwind of power revived old vices best left hidden, and with supreme will he reigned in his near psychotic urge to begin tearing through the aristocratic trash of this world.

Poor mother, I may have made her negotiations somewhere a tad bit harder.  Kiet scanned through the crowds and was amazed to find none of his clan's allies or allied nations among these people.  What did mother know that she had not told him?

Meanwhile Camoile, Ariella's envoy, was busy apologizing heavily for Kiet's odd actions to the manager of the restaurant portion of the hotel.  A subtle twinge at the back of her neck had alerted her to some problem and to be safe, she initiated the standard ritual for apologizing for Kiet.  She was extremely well versed in this ritual, having had to use it so many times. 

Mumbling to herself, she continued to bow, "why, why does he always do something outrageous everytime he leaves the SAIA?  I swear... SHE must be repressive."

Jeremiah considered the question carefully, replacing a few words and reaching the conclusion that the Insectis probably meant something to the effect of 'take me to your leader.'
"Most people probably don't keep very good track these days unless something goes wrong," the frog replied honestly. "We, erm, what's the best way to put this...? We pick our 'queens' out of the general citizenry who can afford to try based supposedly on their skills as a leader." he shrugged, "I'm too new in town myself to know precisely who it is lately, but the city itself is called Damaske."

When Cog commented that her grandmother could tell who had sent out the invitations Mel made a nonspecific sort of sound while sipping her drink. She made a show of turning to watch the creature, who she guessed to be a cubi by his erratic behavior, set off the security guards. Obviously he had never been here before or he would know that the hotel had a security force capable of handling anything up to and including fae. No one disturbed the guests here, including other guests.

Horatio was silent as as Andrace spoke to him, although his grin became a little wider as she went on.

"You saw that, huh?" he said. One thumb rubbed against the rest of his fingers while the fox paused - his face was mirthful, but it was obvious that he was considering what to say. "She did point at you, yes..."

"It wasn't because she saw a pretty lioness, either." he said finally, leaning back on his stool. The sounds of the dining hall, the clattering of dishes and plates, and the light murmur of conversation filled the lull as Horatio paused.

"But I'm sorry to disappoint you. You're asking the wrong person." His expression dimmed, and became somewhat more earnest. "I wish I could help you, but I don't do that sort of work for the Icewings. I'm security detail and enforcement. It's not my job to know things." he paused, looking around briefly. "But it's not fair to expect you to be led by the hand blindly, either..."

He crossed his legs, and leaned one elbow against the counter, putting his chin in his hand. "The mistress receives visitors all the time. She summons them far less often." he said, pausing. "She wants you to do something, or she wants to get some information from you. If you can think of anything she might want to know, that could be your answer. If you can't think of anything..." he shrugged.

"If she doesn't want information, I'd think about what someone would hire someone with your talents and abilities to do." he said carefully. "Skills and talents and capabilities sort of thing. I doubt she wants to you translate a tome from draconic to sanskrit, if you know what I mean. Unless this happens to be something you're good at."

* * *

The otter paused. The man on the other end of the line seemed a bit distressed - she thought about asking if something was wrong, but ended up simply answering the question. Of course he was distressed. Everyone was distressed today. It wasn't something to worry about.
"No one has left a message with us, Mr. Goss." she said, checking to make sure that it was actually the case. Scattered papers dotted with various names littered the front desk area. It wasn't technically a lie - she couldn't see any messages for the man, anyway. If they found something later they'd let him know, surely.

"If we get one, we'll make sure and let you know, sir." she said evenly, and wondered where that bastard of a tiger had gone off to. She'd been manning the desk nearly by herself for almost thirty minutes now.

* * *

The body of the mouse lay quite still and unmoving, leaking out nearly black looking blood onto the flagstones beneath them. It was rapidly as silent as it had been before - it appeared that this part of the castle was somewhat isolated from the rest of it. Even the sound of the weather outside was muted, the nearest window being at least twenty feet back.
A pair of bloody keys floated in front of the white bat, and a wooden, locked door to her left. The hallway itself was empty from end to end - there was only herself, and the body of the mouse.

* * *

The suited panther listened stiffly to Camoile's apology on behalf of her master, and when she finished simply nodded. "We appreciate your apology, and hope that your continued stay will be pleasant. On the behalf of the hotel, however, we would continue to ask that you not disturb the other guests. Please have a nice evening." he finished, and without another word or acknowledgment turned and stalked behind the bar counter, and then disappearing behind a door into the interior of the building. From his tone and expression, it was clear he was still fuming - but this now didn't seem to matter.

The remainder of those present in the dining room were rapidly losing interest, now that the fireworks seemed to be over, and returning to their meals and conversations. Out of the corner of his eye, Kiet caught a group of younger looking fellows raising glasses of beer in his direction, and the distinct fizzing taste of oversaturated humor.

* * *

"A'course, I bet she's pretty busy right now." Cogidubnus said, and scooted down to the end of the booth, putting his legs up so he was sitting sideways to the table. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, while one of the ferns did it's best to provide a cushion.
A waitress noticed Aten trying to wave her down, and walked over, pen in hand. "Can I help you?"

Kiet smiled widely and inclined his head towards the younger lads respectfully before spinning on his heals and heading for the stairs.  Kiet was quite overcharged with the bountiful ardor of his fellow guests, their companions and the staff.  The ringtail thought it best to retire, it would be rude to be a glutton, and the patience of the magnates and plutocrats were becoming quite haggard.

"material power and concerns are so droll, such things are so very fleeting."  Kiet mumbled to himself as he mounted the stairs and drifted back into the room.  The other two retainers were busying themselves with various tasks.  Camiole, on the other hand, was already back from her apology session.  The clouded leopardess sunk easily, almost sensually into a bath with a sigh.  Her sensitive ears caught sound of Kiet entering, but the scented oils of the bath were far too alluring to her weary mind.

She made a mental note to request banana pancakes for breakfast and make it a point to eat them in front of Kiet... without letting him have any.

Elizabeth chuckled in an uncharacteristic display of amusement, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "It's quite alright. I'm not very talkative, so you shouldn't concern yourself," she reassured Tobias, also standing in line for the check-in counter. "Besides, what you've mentioned is quite interesting."

After a moment, Elizabeth paused, trying to formulate an elaborate lie that was consistent with the ones she had already used. She didn't want to make Tobias suspicious, but didn't want to be hasty and answer in an automatic way that would compromise her identity. She didn't want to say anything that would be too confusing or provoke incredulity, besides that. "Not a duchess," she said with a short laugh, "More like I received an invitation out of the blue. I still have no idea why they'd send someone like me a letter."

Elizabeth decided that she would concoct a more believable excuse later. But it wasn't entirely erroneous - she really did have no idea why her anonymous beneficiary sent her the invitation. Suddenly, something curious struck her, and she inclined her head inquisitively in Tobias's direction. "You received an invitation as well?"

   Karazkt stopped walking for a moment, because what the surfacer said had made no sense at all. Only the end of what he said could Karazkt pick up on.
   "DmazKe..." Karazkt tried out the word, "...and, you are noT of thiz hive either? ZTrange..." Karazkt paused for another moment.
   "And whaT nonzenze were you TalKing abouT? 'Chooze' your Kween? WhaT abzurdiTy iz thiz? You KannoT 'chooze' you Kween. You are born inTo the hive of your Kween." Karazkt said, with his antennae twitching in an almost irritated way as he started walking again.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think many of us completely get how it works either. We just try to get on with things without our leaders interference," Jeremiah shrugged sheepishly and grinned, "Just how things are." The frog went over a few other points as they made their way up the stairs, his favorite hobby of blathering helping pass the time ("Of course, it's more worth knowing who's in charge of the Castle itself, but honestly I haven't made his acquaintance either, just the higher ups on staff. What about you, you know what's up? Ah, not my place, shouldn't pry. So, where you from, lad? Silly question, an insectis hive. I've heard a lot about...") until they finally reached another empty guest room. "And here's the room you'll be using while you're a guest here. Any more questions?"

Andrace kept her friendly expression, but the lioness froze for a moment, even her tail pausing its gentle swishing, as the implications of Horatio's statement sank in. Somethin' she mebbe wants me t' do? she thought, But I was s'posed t' come here for... Her eyes flicked from side to side. The crowd in the dining room was thinning out, but without turning her head she could see half a dozen assorted nobility and high officials from as many different countries. Each accompanied by the same kind of unsmiling, black-suited entourage as had surrounded the dragons coming off the train.

Outwardly, Andrace only appeared to snort in amusement behind the glass she held in front of her muzzle. "Considerin' th' only handful o' words o' draconic I know ain't th' sort o' thing I'd say t' y'r mistress, that's a safe bet."

Inwardly, if she'd dared show it, the lioness wanted to scream with frustration and worry. I hope t' hell I'm wrong, she thought. If not, if I don't handle this just right, I'm dead.

An' it's Icewing that's gonna get me killed.

Aten requested a simpler lemon pepper fish meal alone with a glass of wine. he ordered the wine so that he would not seem to be trying to separate himself form his company by avoiding alcoholic beverages. well for that reason and that his preferred drink mint tea brewed with wolfs-bane and lemon grass was likely not to be served here. he glanced around the room at the other guest and realized just how big and event he was in for. he remembered his father taking him on a trip when he was eight and how it he'd seen similar crowds of people. it was a fishing trip if he remembered correctly.

 The shadows of the town of Damaske finally began to slant, the sun creeping over towards the western mountain range and dipping slowly beneath the peaks. The white snow was cast in a fiery red, the setting sun glistening off the crystals like gold flecks spangled on the bottom of a nile river.

The one-eyed cat pulled his coat tighter, still trudging up the hill. He was about halfway there, but it was only going to get colder from here.

***

"Well, that's one option eliminated, then." Horatio smiled, and gestured with his glass in a toast. He set it down without drinking. "Of course, I...oh. Well."

His head was turned towards the lobby. At the foot of the stairs, another suited creature was waving at him - some sort of feather-winged angel, by the look of him, a canine of some sort as snow-white as the fox was. Horatio pushed his still-brimming glass towards the somewhat nonplussed bartender, and stood.

While the bartender opened a window and threw the drink's contents outside, he held out a hand for the lioness, his posture a slight bow.
"It's about that time, miss. All ready?"

  The dog from before joined them, and as they progressed up the flights of stairs - one, two, three, four, five, six, where suddenly the very atmosphere of the place itself seemed to change. People were everywhere up here, all of the striding purposefully this way and that, and as they walked more and more of them joined their little entourage until they reached the biggest group of them all - about four or five black-suited individuals clustered before an open door, and several tired-looking porters leaving the room just as they approached.

"End of the line for us." Horatio said, putting a hand on Andrace's shoulder. He looked around briefly. "Hm. Generally, Walter would introduce you at this point, but I don't see him. He may already be inside."

He waved to the other black suits, who nodded back and shifted about, making a path for the lioness. "Good luck!" the fox said, taking his hand off her shoulder and putting his hands behind his back.

Andrace entered, and for a few moments didn't see anyone. Simply the view from the wall-sized window with a spectacular view of the castle and the surrounding countryside, the ornate, bordering on the decadent furnishings, with couches and carpets and an entirely outfitted fireplace, with a mantle one could have displayed an entire deer on, with a roaring, icy-blue fire going on the logs.
The second thing she noticed was that she should have dressed a bit warmer. It practically felt like she'd just stepped outside and taken a roll in the snow.

The third thing she noticed was the figure standing in front of her and to the left, nearly in one corner of the room and looking out. The dress it was wearing was something out of storybooks - lace and velvet and skirts, studded with jewelry. The sinuous, scaled neck and the horns, however, reveled that it was, most certainly, a dragon.

* * *

"I did, I did, yes." the fennec said, patting his breast. "And for now, I keep it close to my heart. This is why we're so excited! An incredible opportunity to increase exports." he said, smiling. "But iron-dealing is cold, boring work. Much more interesting to talk about pretty girls over a drink, hm?" he grinned.

When the black suited canine appeared in the lobby Mel ducked down a bit. As he gestured to Horatio and the lioness Mel straightened back up. "I am simply hopeful that she is busy enough to not notice I have gone AWOL." She adjusted the collar on her cranberry red suit and checked the watch pinned to her lapel. "I would just have time to dress for dinner if she sent someone now." Mel looked at some of the other diner's meals. "I wonder if there is a good restaurant on the other side of town?"

The smell of the food proved very hypnotic, drawing the tigress into the food without any further delay.  Very little happened in the dining hall to distract her, but still alert she only counted it as a blessing to not be taken for granted.  The meat, vegetables, and wine were savored all down to the very last drops.

Not bad, not bad at all... the Healer grinned and carefully wiped any scraps left on her maw with the napkin.  It will be a nice night of sleep after this for me, I believe.  Looking at the plate, she was quite full...no room for dessert?...Not tonight, perhaps.

She made another glance around the dining hall and the bar.  People were filing out, less were filing in, perhaps it was all in a day's work for those who worked there.  Speaking of which...she grabbed her staff with one hand and raised to gesture to her ever-so-slinky ermine waiter, wherever he was.  "I'll have the check now, if you please," she called and grinned politely.  The pleased look in her eyes showed both inner and outer contentment; and rarely did the tigress show anything other than neutrality when she ate otherwise.

Andrace nodded and downed the remains of her drink when Horatio indicated it was time for the meeting. She slid down off the stool and followed the fox across the dining room and up the stairs. She wasn't smiling now, as she saw out of the corner of her eye the white-furred canine Angel turn and keep pace at her side. Her expression was neutral and businesslike, ears, whiskers and tailtip under firm control, not letting a hint of her thoughts show on the outside.

On the sixth floor the lioness took note, without being obvious about it, of the security guards standing out among the bustle and rush of people hurrying in all directions. She didn't miss the ones moving to bring up the rear of the little procession, either. When they reached what had to be their destination, she paused for a moment, looked over her shoulder at Horatio and nodded in acknowledgement, a slight smile on her face. Then she walked into the dragon's lair.

Andrace's eyes swept across the room, ignoring for the moment the luxurious furnishings and the view out of the window. She couldn't hide a quick shiver as ice-cold air wafted right through her clothes. Her fur fluffed up as she walked, bulking out her trouser legs and shirt sleeves. The sleeveless jerkin was heavy and tight enough to hold her body fur down flat, though, making her itch a little from throat to waist. She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face the tall figure standing in the corner, looking out of the window. The Dragon's face was turned away, and there wasn't much of a reflection in the glass to give Andrace a clue to her expression.

"M'lady, y' wanted t' talk t' Kithara. Here I am." Andrace's voice was still a deep bass growl, but quieter than usual. There was nothing ominous in the room, and nothing threatening in the Dragon's posture, but something was still making her feel skittish. Get a grip on y'self, girl, she thought. All right, so she's a Dragon, an' she could likely have th' Family destroyed in a moment if y' say th' wrong thing — what's th' worst she could do? Eat y'?

   Karazkt walked into the room, his antennae sifting this way and that, getting a feel for the room. He walked around, almost as if he was confused and searching for something. Whatever he was looking for, he completely ignored all of the fine furniture and trappings in the room, unless he saw some shining metal. His antennae always brushed over whatever metal he found, and then he continued his seemingly random walking. Eventually, he stopped in the middle of the room. "I am To zTay here?" He asked. He then kneeled down, and let his antennae pat the stoneworked floor for a moment. Then he stood up again. "There iz no zell here for me To rezT in. Am I To maKe my own ouT of the zTone of thiz chamber?"

Elyse cast another glance around her that might have seemed perfunctory to some. But considering where she were and what might be required to spot a threat under the circumstances, she knew there was no such thing as too many precautions. She would have to get rid of the body, there was no question about that. What had that freak been doing there anyway? Immediately, she realized that there was only one answer to that question. Just as there was to the one about what to do with the body. She looked at the ring laden with keys in her hand. Putting a pair of fingers to her temples, she groaned.
   In the end, it took a bit for her to decide in her stressed state. She did not dare risk burning the corpse up with a spell; she had too little talent for that sort of thing to truly disintegrate the thing, not to mention that the magic would leave a trace. And then there was the smell. Burnt fur and hair always left such a dreadful and recognizable odor. Thus, she could only throw it away or conceal it. And while she had the advantage of not leaving any trace of her own on the body - telekinesis was such a practical skill - that still required a convenient hiding place. In the empty, mostly blank corridor, nothing stood out. Nothing except that door. So, grumbling, she set herself to finding the correct key.
   The keys were newly made and the lock, while older, was clearly of the same somewhat modern fabricate, something that surprised her. The door swung open without a hitch or a creak, and as she arced her neck and peeked into the crack, the bat expected nothing too surprising. She should have taken wisdom from the madman lunging at her barely a minute ago. Her dark eyes adapting to the low lighting without difficulty, she stared for just a second, and then turned away, swallowing her revulsion.
   Back pressed against the door and her eyes wide still, Elyse took several calming breaths, then shut her eyes, opened the door again without looking, and flung the dead mouse's body, the torso and limbs first and the head after, carelessly into the room behind it to join the rest of the carnage, then shut the door, rubbed out the fingerprints she had accidentally left, and began sneaking down the corridor with hurried steps, far, far more worried than she had come there.
   Something truly mad was going on.

Jeremiah blinked, doing a quick bit of mental translation. Musing that there were probably some techno bands that would pay good money for a recording of Karazkt saying 'Exactly,' he patiently explained, "Well, no idea what sort of 'cell' you're talking about, but we probably don't have what you're looking for. What we do have," He continued, wandering over to the expensive four-poster bed, "Is a bed. You lie on it with your head up here, cover yourself up with this blanket here to keep any warmth you wanna hang on to while you sleep, and slip into Morpheus' sweet embrace..." The frog blinked, realized where he'd just screwed up, and chuckled, "By that last bit I mean go to sleep. If such furnishings are inadequate," And believe me kid, if they are I'll trade ya. They just gave me a fuckin' hammock... "Then I'm certain we can see about something more appropriate."

 Cogidubnus seemed to think about that for a moment, and his stomach growled in response to the dragon's suggestions.
"I could go for some food, yeah..." he said, when he suddenly made a small clicking noise.

"You said it was around dinnertime, though?" he paused, fishing in his jacket for something. He pulled out a smooth-silver pocketwatch, flipping it open and shut quickly. He moved to get out of the booth, shifting around for a moment and then sliding off and standing.

"The time flies, doesn't it?" he said, making a slight bow to the both of them. "Unfortunately, I do have some business to take care of this evening. I hadn't realized it had grown so late. I'll see the both of you tomorrow?" he said, leaving the question in the air while he tipped his hat and walked away, drifting through the crowd seemingly slow, and yet gone before one realized he'd left.

* * *

The dragon didn't jump, but merely turned her head on that sinuous neck to look at her. Up close, she could tell that the old dragon didn't even look like the other wyrms she'd seen on the way up - and there had been a few, with frost-silver scales and cheerful, fanged smiles.
She wasn't silver, properly, but rather the yellow of the summer moon, like old and worn ivory. There was a smoothness to her scales the other dragon's didn't possess, either - like they were pieces of one larger scale than individual flakes of skin. Her eyes, though, felt like they were boring through her skull - large, luminous as the sun that set behind her. Red velvet shuffled while she turned, and walked towards her.

She paused to pick up a bauble from the table. It was a small effigy of a cat, in gold, small enough to fit in the palm of one's hand. She seemed to stare at it for a moment, holding it up as if to make sure Andrace saw it, and while looking at the figurine, spoke.
"You know what it is that the Icewings do. I assume that 'Kithara' did not send you in blind." she intoned, as if she'd long thought about what she was to say. She paused, letting the statement hang in the air.

"The distribution of power is oftentimes a messy business." she looked from the corner of her eyes at Andrace.
"Have a chocolate, dear." she said, nodding her head at the end-table, not too far from where Andrace was standing. Chocolates dark as the black blood of the earth gleamed from a silver dish.

The dragon put the figure down, walking towards the middle of the room. Richly textured furniture, couches and chairs, decorated the area, and the dragon sat delicately down on the far couch, where the sun was streaming out from the windows behind her.
"It is sometimes an unfortunate business, too." she said, her intonation changing just slightly. "Very unfortunate. Whispers in the dark are hard to hear in the first place. When someone else is whispering, it makes things more difficult. When they're whispering things they should never have heard..."
"You understand what I mean." she finished, her posture regal while she regarded Andrace.

"Two hundred years ago, Kithara requested power from me." she said, now staring straight at the lioness. "It came with a high price, and they paid it. Now I'd like to request something of Kithara, that might have a high price."

She moved just slightly. The old dragon seemed to favor one side, keeping that one towards the lioness at all times. "Let's not mince words. Dreadful as it is, of course, I need you to kill someone."

* * *

Without even having to go fetch it, the ermine placed the check in front of the Tigress promptly, and gave a truly genial and polite smile.

* * *

The hallway was deserted, but more than the image of the bodies piled upon bodies, it was the stench of decomposing flesh that she couldn't get out of her mind. They had been there for quite some time - it was surprising that there wasn't a vermin problem because of it. The sheer -amount- of them...

Nothing else was presenting itself for the bat, however - simply deserted halls and sunlight filtering through glass windows, casting shadows of wrought iron on the floor.
Eventually, a staircase presented itself on her left - and the hallway continued on as well. It seemed to be going in a circle - if she kept going, she might reach her room again. Or she could head downwards.

* * *

Hours later, under the cool breeze of night, the wolf shoved his hat down more firmly onto his head, and looking at the waxing moon - nearly full, nearly, full, he continued walking on, his feet crunching through the snow, starlight and moonlight reflecting off the silver he wore.

Andrace murmured a few words of thanks as she took a step to the side and picked a chocolate from the silver dish. It looked and smelled delicious, and she made a mental note to add half an hour to her exercise routine tomorrow morning: even before she started nibbling politely on it, she could feel an extra pound or two settling on her hips.

The lioness directed her full attention on the ancient Dragon, her tail tip flicking back and forth as she considered the significance of the performance with the little golden statuette. She was being told something, and hopefully soon she'd figure out what. Adding that to the mention of power, and unfortunate things, and it seemed her earlier guess was right. Her employer might not be who she'd thought, but her job would probably be the same. Yes, I understand all right, she thought. "Whispers in th' dark" — an' y' want silence. An' it sounds like somethin' political, or personal. That costs a lot, m' lady. Oh yes, that costs a hell o' a lot.

Andrace almost flinched when the Dragon looked straight at her for a long moment, and she fought to keep her breathing steady. That was hard to hide in this icebox of a room, but the twin plumes of vapour curling from her nostrils barely hesitated. Something about those eyes came close to unnerving the lioness. It felt like they were reading something written on the inside of her skull. And it didn't seem to be anything that could be blocked by a mind-shield spell, it was just sheer force of will and personality.

The Dragon's final words brought a small, humourless smile briefly to Andrace's face. "M'lady, y'r honesty is appreciated," she said, "I'll be honest in return. Yes, we kill. When there's need. Never lightly, an' never just 'cause someone says so." She took a slow, deep breath, licked chocolate crumbs from her muzzle and whiskers, and continued. Her expression smoothed out into a well practiced, cool, dispassionate hunting stare, as if her quarry were already almost within charge-and-pounce range of her fangs and claws.

"Why d' y' need someone killed? How d' y' want 'em killed? When d' y' want 'em killed? An' last — this don't matter s' much t' me, but it sure as hell will t' someone — who d' y' want me t' kill?"

   Karazkt eyed the bed strangely as Jeremiah explained, and not just because he had large solid black eyes. He leaned over on it, gently prodding and brushing his antennae around. Eventually he pulled back. While his face didn't show much expression, his antennae were oddly drooped, as if he was completely perplexed by something. Eventually, he said: "Thiz iz whaT you zurfazerz zleep on? Thiz iz mozT inKomprehenzible..." Karazkt glanced back to the bed. "I am zorry, but no, thiz will noT do, noT aT all. However..." Karazkt then went around the walls of the room, prodding them with his antennae, and stopped at the one furthest from the door. "Thiz area iz zufficienTly thiK. Zummon a WorKer, and iT Kan Karve ouT an appropriaTe zell in momenTz."
   A thought then occursed to Karazkt, a rather horrible one, brought on by a nagging feeling in his mind. It was utterly ridiculous, but he couldn't help getting it out anyway. "Thiz iz, of Kourze, foolish To azK, buT...you do have WorKerz here, KorreKT?"

"Erm..." Jeremiah's expression slowly got more awkward the further Karazkt went on with explanation, finally hitting peak discomfort somewhere around mention of 'zummoning workerz.' "That is to say, my good man, ah..." The frog broke out into a sheepish grin and he shrugged. "We have people who work... I'll see what I can arrange." Right after seeing to my getting a raise for dealing with interspecies politics, kid.

Kiet had gotten board with hanging around the room, as Camoile appeared to be trying to become an aquatic denizen for as much time as she spent in the bath, and had spontaneously decided to go for a walk through the nice halls.  He had at some point apparently decided to go for a walk outside into the wonderfully pleasant night.  So pleasant was the night, that the penguins huddled around the fires and the ice elementals retreated back to their icy plane in search of more pleasant climes.

The ringtail could not fathom why he had found himself outside, but a lingering aura of menace seemed to drift about the area.  Heading around the street and gradually up a hill.  He was not really sure why he was going in this direction, but it seemed like a nice night to let fate dictate his actions for a bit.  Maybe some decedent of some fallen foe would choose now to strike for revenge of his great-great-great-great-etc. grandfather.  Perhaps he might meet some long lost friend.

   "WaiT..." Karazkt might not have been accustomed to surfacer body language, and couldn't fathom the precise meaning of roundabout speech, but even he could tell something was definitely amiss. Another thought occurred to him, this one coming from the basic briefing he'd gotten on some of the surfacer races.
   "Your WorKerz, they aren'T...magiKlezz Beingz, are they?"

"Wouldn't say that..." Jeremiah's grin broadened and grew more sheepish, "We're not COMPLETELY magicless, and I'm sure it's an equal opportunity workplace, might not be all beings... Although I haven't seen any non-beings, but there might be..." The frog trailed off, his grin snapping back into place when he finished.

   Karazkt didn't make much sense out of the strange surfacer's ramblings, but he did manage to extract an answer from it. His normally waving and twitching antennae had stopped moving for a moment.
   "Then I muzT form a zell myzelf." He said, though Jeremiah might have gotten the feeling Karazkt was talking mostly to himself.
   Karazkt then turned to the stone wall at a bare spot and kneeled down, brushing it with his antennae. Suddenly, his antennae and his hands started to glow brown. The glow intensified for a moment, then he plunged his hands and antennae into the same stone about a foot off the ground. The stone parted, creating a rapidly widening hole in the wall, though it didn't seem to have breached into another room. As the hole grew, the stone was fused and compressed with the area around the hole, creating an area of solid stone with the hole in the center. It gained angles as it grew...six of them. The hole had been shaped into a hexagon.
   Eventually, Karazkt finished. What he now has was a large hollow in the wall on the ground in the shape of a hexagonal prism. It was about two feet high, and three-and-a-half feet deep. There seemed to be some excess stone jutting out around the edges, though.
   Karazkt then put one still-glowing hand in the cell, for that's what it was, and created two rectangular depressions in both sides. Still kneeling down in front of the cell, he removed the goggles from his forehead and the tool bandolier from his body. He then placed the goggles into one of the niches, and folded up his tool bandolier to place it in the other.
   Finally, he nimbly slid his body into the cell, feet first, and curled up in what basically amounted to a fetal position while lying on his back, allowing his body to fit into the compact space. With one last brown glow from his antennae, they brushed along the extra stone on the edges, which then quickly flowed across, sealing the cell. Now there was the wall, with it's texture of alternating lines of rectangular stone. Then there was a funny area that seemed as if it was all one big face of stone, with a hexagonal patch in the middle that was a little lighter than fused rock face.
   After a few moments of nothing happening, the sealed 'hatch' flowed apart again. Karazkt got out and stood up.
   "IT iz noT the kind of zTone I am uzed To, but iT will zuffize." Karazkt said simply.

When it came up on the left, the stairway immediately drew Elyse's eyes, and she stopped at a good distance from it, far from enticed at the prospect of provoking some new unexpected attack. She looked out the windows, up and down the hallway, paced a bit, and bit her lip, her mind occupied and stressed by the silence around. That way deeper into the castle was as frightening as it was compelling, and against her better sense she was drawn toward it.
   It was the silence that changed her mind. Just as she was about to take a step, the bat stopped, listened, and realized just how exposed she were. She'd usually even have someone else's perspective on things, even in the worst of situations, and now she was left only with silent emptiness. She immediately began feeling unsettled.
   Please, she thought. If there's anyone there, just... There was no answer, whether in word or thought.
   Trying hard to calm herself, the bat hurried past the stairway the long way around, and ventured further down the corridor. She had made sure to remember as well as she could how the entrance to her room looked and where it was.

 The dragon sat still while listening to Andrace, not even his fingers moving as she returned the dispassionate, hunter's stare of the feline. If it had ruffled Luna's feathers, there wasn't any observable sign of it. But the slight narrowing of the eyes, and the change in body posture, indicated that her answer was not what the dragon wanted to hear. She rested an elbow on her thigh, and just barely touched her chin.
"I'm not just someone, dearie. Very many things happen because I say so." she said, smiling a small smile. "I...ah, Walter. In the nick of time, we were just sitting down to discuss. Set the tea there, please."

Another silver dragon, this one in a green suit, and looking very much a man in the desert who was constantly surrounded by vultures, had entered the room from a side door leading to the kitchen. A silver tray loaded with a odd tea set - the pot was set on a tiny burner to keep it warm in the frigid surroundings - was laid in his hands, and with a nod to his mistress, he crossed the room to set it down on the coffee table in front of her. Luna motioned for Andrace to sit opposite her, and grabbed one of the steaming cups from the tray. The tea was loaded with milk, it seemed, except for the cup she'd chosen - a solid black, without accoutrement. The dragoness sipped on it daintily, waving the green-suited dragon away with her other hand.

"I didn't now how you took it, dearie, but we thought you might want some cream with it. Very good, Walter does struggle so to get the leaves, but the climate is very...preserving. Please, have a seat."
She sipped while Andrace maneuvered herself, waiting until the lioness had made herself comfortable before speaking. "But...yes. As I was saying, I'm not just someone."

Her demeanor had seemed to soften while she sipped the tea. Her gaze one again began to bore into the lioness, only a table's width away. "And all these questions..." she seemed to shake her head just slightly, and brought the saucer up to her cup with her free hand, setting her tea down with a clink.
"And if I was to say it was a whim? Would you refuse me?" her voice still held the same sweet tones as before, but there was a distant note of displeasure in it now. "Let me rephrase, Emissary of Kithara."

She set her tea down. "Do you know what Kithara bought from me? Of course you don't." she said, her voice no longer cloying and sweet. "It was two hundred years ago, and probably only scribes and historians know or care now." her tone was disparaging, and she looked away from the lioness for a moment. She glanced back at Andrace.
"Do you know what that Golden Cat was?" she said, flatly. "A gift, from the matron of your clan, on the day of the conclusion of our business. It was meant to represent the 'Eternal Friendship' between us." she snorted.

"Let me again be blunt, emissary of Kithara." she said with a voice of steel. "If you refuse me, I will find a clan of cutthroats who will do what I ask, and if I cannot find one single person willing to assassinate someone in this day and age, I will reduce him to carbon and ash myself." Her eyes, golden orbs that flashed like the sun off the water, bored into Andrace's skull. "And I will remember, next time Kithara seeks friendship with me, and when she seeks to know where the beds of her enemies are."

"So, as you answer me with questions, I will answer what I can." she picked up her tea, her voice receding somehow, suggestions of menace and sparking tones gone. Although her voice had never raised, it somehow seemed harder to hear her, now. "I will not tell you why. How and when are entirely up to a good assassins discretion. I don't care if you make it look like an accident or stab him in the street. As for the who..."
She paused, tilting her head just slightly. "Kiet Ti'Pallo." she said, and sipped her tea.

* * *

At that moment, Kiet was busy traipsing around in the wilderness surrounding, climbing snowy hills and drifting along beneath snow-laden trees. The time seemed to pass by itself as he walked, and before he knew it, he found himself miles and hours away from town, and nearly completely by himself.

While he was cresting a hill, and admiring the nearly-silver, nearly-full moon glinting at him in a sky full of diamond stars, he looked down the slope to find himself staring at an enormous depression gouged into the earth. It was quite apparently made, very roughly rectangular in sharp and with sharp beginnings and endings. The presence of a small chimney peeking up from beneath the snow also seemed to confirm that people had once inhabited this area.

He stared at it puzzling for a moment, when he remembered the business card from before. Perhaps this was the archaeologist he was to check out?

* * *

The stones morphed and twisted beneath a foreign hand, and deep in the heart of the castle, resentment bubbled.

* * *

The silence only grew around the vampire bat, and after crossing hallway after hallway and turn after turn without seeing anyone, she was very surprised to see an open door and voices talking in the next room. One of them she recognized - the other, however, sounded like iron nails on a long, long chalkboard. She could see shadows moving on the open wooden door.

Andrace's eyes widened, and she made a stifled strangulated noise deep in her throat that suggested a mouthful of tea had gone down the wrong way, and only iron determination was stopping it from being sprayed out of her nose. She looked across the room at the little golden statuette again, then back to the ancient Dragon sitting on the other side of the table. The final pieces of the puzzle she'd been worrying at fell into place with an almost audible click, and a look of sudden realisation, then near panic, crossed her face for a moment before being replaced by a professional blankness.

The shaken lioness put her cup and saucer down on the table. Her hands were beginning to tremble: if she'd held them much longer, she would have either spilled or crushed them.

"M'lady, I hope y'll accept my apologies. I didn't realise y' were invokin' th' agreement." Andrace's voice started low and unsteady, and she laid her foot deliberately on her tail-tip, to prevent her tail from lashing violently from side to side with her agitation. "Thing is, th' Golden Cat is mentioned in our records, but... well, our archivist back then, he saw y' at that last meetin' an'... y' made quite an impression on him, M'lady. T' tell th' truth, he was kind of smitten with y'. His writin' got all flowery an' fancied up, so by th' time he wrote about th' Golden Cat... ah... f'r th' last hundred years or so, we've all thought th' Cat would be a real fur-an'-flesh person, who'd turn up at th' gate one day..." The lioness stopped herself before her voice, which had been getting faster and higher, dissolved into outright hysterics.

She paused, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, until she'd recovered her composure. "Whatever. Y' have invoked th' agreement, so by th' agreement, y' have my service. I'll do what y' ask."

Two seconds later, Andrace realised just who she'd been told her target was. Kiet Ti'Paollo? she thought, From Xe'Pherion? He's here? Th' big battle mage? Th' General? He's a 'Cubi, ain't he? Zillions o' years old? Frig, I'm dead!

Five seconds later, another thought crept into her mind.

Holy frig, whatta challenge!

Mel watched the wolf disappear from the restaurant then looked around the room. She wasn't seeing any old acquaintances and trekking across town in search of a restaurant didn't seem as much fun without a co-conspirator. She suddenly found herself yawning and realized how long her day had been. "If you will excuse me, Mr. Aten, I think I will retire. Tomorrow promises to be a very long day." She slid out of the booth and gave the feline a polite bow just as his food was arriving. She debated ordering a meal sent to her room but knew that an elaborate meal would be available in the suite. Perhaps she could convince someone to smuggle her some. As she debated this she drifted slowly towards the elevators.

Kiet gazed up into the striking, clear night sky.  Countless stars were painted thick across the black canvas, and as always, the ringtail felt small.  A smile crested his lip as a small gust carried the smells of nature to his little nose.  The world was changing, creatures and beings grew closer together, lines of species began to blur unlike the thousands of years he had seen before.  However, here among the evergreens, all things remained the same.

In the sky, countless sparkles drifted in and surrounded Kiet.  Too fine to be snow, it sparkled and twinkled like a cloud of diamonds.

"Diamond dust... it is quite pretty.  Nature never ceases to amaze me.  Oh well, while I am here, I might as well see if the archaeologist is about."

The feline entered the strange area, careful not the disturb anything significant, and made his way towards the small chimney.  He scanned about magically, looking for signs of life or unlife.

"I say, is there a Doctor Gerard Irisi somewhere about here?"

Once again, Rynkura was impressed with the waiter's punctuality; for no sooner had she called, he was ready with the check.  I would have to give this place my recommendation, she thought to herself.  The price on the bill wasn't that bad either, at least in her eyes; just enough for her to also part with a bit of a generous tip.

"Many thanks for your services," she said to the waiter after paying, giving him an equally polite smile in return.  "I shall certainly think of this place next time for a meal."

Now, all that was left to do was to settle for the night, if nothing else...a shower, a good night's sleep, and later, preparation for the ball.  Starting to walk out of the dining area, with the angel-like predatory look in her eyes very much satiated, the tigress wondered if everyone else was having as good a time.  Her thoughts even wandered briefly to Tim and to her very large "pet"...so long as Rover behaved himself, Rynkura had to admit that he and his friend were both quite the personalities.

And there will be more personalities to meet, I just wager, the Healer thought as she idly made her way back up to the rooms, the glow of her staff mingling with the gentle lights of the upper floors.

In her hotel room, Tim was sleeping like an innocent babe. That is, semi-waking every 20 minutes or so, because she just couldn't get comfortable, blinking, rolling over, and going back to sleep.

Accustomed as she was to curling up under Rover's wing, she missed the steady calming beat of his heart, in much the same way the tenant of a cheap rail-side apartment misses the sound of the goods trains going past at 2am, when they move into better digs.

Eventually, despite the lack - which, oddly enough, she wouldn't have been able to identify, if you had asked her - she managed to doze off.
Fitfully.

* * * *

Out in the dark, next to the stables, nothing was moving. Dark as it was, it was almost impossible to differentiate between Rover - curled up with his face under one of his wings, the tips of his ears just visible under the edge - and the wall of the stables he was curled up against.

At around the time Rynkura was thinking about him, the tips of his ears twitched, and he moved a little in his sleep, scratching his shoulder against the wall. The wall groaned, one side bending visibly. Well, perhaps not visibly, but if it had been light, it would have been fairly obvious. The whole stable building took on a slight tilt.


Tim wasn't going to be pleased in the morning...

Aten nodded and bid the Dragoness farewell. it would be rude to try and follow her and now he had a opening that would allow him to approach her openly when she was lone or perhaps in the company of a single steward or two and ask her for an audience with her matron. his meal was well prepared and he enjoyed it immensely paying for with out of the merger funds he'd brought with him. he would sleep tonight and in the early dawn he would go he the library and refresh his manners around dragons and study up on this goddess that the Wolf Cogi had mentioned.

Irritation filled her mind somewhat. In addition to their audible voices, there were also their thoughts. And it was nearly discouragement enough for her to walk away that not only could she could hear the jumble in the frog's head, but that those fleeting through the other creature's, obviously an Insectis, head were as grating and barely intelligible as its speech. But she had learned to filter things out long ago, and if she had to choose between noise and unpleasantness and possible death, well...
   'If you two are quite finished', she said, folding her arms beneath her breasts and frowning down at the frog, 'I'd very much like to get at least a brief description of tomorrow's itinerary before I am confined to my room.' It was a poor excuse for searching the frog out once more, but it, and keeping an outwardly cool demeanor, would have to do. She hoped that her sudden appearal would unsettle and make them unsure of her as well. She hadn't come out of nowhere, really, but she knew that she had something of a talent for sneaking up on people, for whatever reason.
   The bat's mind was on edge though, and far from as confident as she put on, already prepared to unleash more than a few nasty surprises on the amphibian, though she didn't know about this other 'guest'. If the frog's voices were to be taken as a sign, he was probably as batty as the mouse, though possibly in a different manner. So while it seemed that she would need the slimy little man to lead her back, she would splatter him regardless if he showed any signs of overt hostility. Actually, thinking about it, she might hurt him a little just for what she perceived of his rude thoughts and poor character.
   'What are you leering at, by the way?' she said suddenly. Didn't he know that good serfs and stewards were supposed to appear reserved and proper? Who had hired him in the first place?

Jeremiah's eyes widened as the Insectis resculpted the room to suit his needs, mouth dropping slightly open. "... Right then. Right. You could just, do that. Sure..." Oooh I'm gonna have to explain that later.
And then he was, insofar as his perception was concerned, assaulted by a maelstrom of hormonal rage and expensive clothing.
Yeesh, outta nowhere! "Simply my face, ma'am." Lets see, she seems just unpleasant enough to jump on that chance to insult me, but I see it coming so all things considered I suppose it doesn't count. The frog hadn't thought he was leering, but then the bad had already struck him as the sort to plant things where she felt need to see them. He was used to people like that, he could cope. "As for what's on the agenda for tomorrow... Really, I'm too new on the staff to know." He bowed apologetically, "I'm extremely sorry for the inconvenience, but they really just have me fetch things and see the guests to their rooms. I could find out on your behalf if that's acceptable, Madam."
Something's up. She's freaked.
What makes you say that?
You think someone who gets off on fear as much as I do can't tell when someone's spooked?
I know you Bal, you have all the perceptive skills of a particularly obstinate potato-
Her pupils are practically pinpricks, she's acting even more hostile than before and that's saying something, her breathing's a touch heavy, there's a few muscles along her neck and shoulders standing out too much, and her ears are pointed straight up. Don't you EVER question me on this sort of shit again.
... Jeremiah chose to simply file Bal's observations away and let his own senses be the judge of things. If she had something to say he had a feeling she'd say it.

 The ancient dragon blinked slowly at Andrace, and reached for her discarded tea. She took a sip, delicately, and continued staring, although the intensity of the gaze seemed to lessen. She was staring just past the lioness - seemingly, slightly distracted.
"Hm..." she said, trying to remember who'd been writing things down. Her eye flicked sharply back at Andrace. "The, ah, scholarly looking one, in the back? With the glasses?"

A grin spread across the dragon's face, sharp fangs glinting in the light as Luna laughed, a strange, dry hiss that rose and fell. She shook her head, taking another little sip of her tea, a grin plastered on her face.
"Oh, dear." she said simply. Her gaze again fixed on Andrace, and suddenly the lioness wasn't entirely sure if she liked the dragon better angry or amused. Her grin, with long, ivory spears, was unnerving.

"I'm glad to hear you've accepted, then. Anytime before the end of the ball should be fine, any manner you choose." she said, and sipped her tea. "Of course, I'm not stupid. He outclasses you entirely." her grin faded, and she regarded the lioness carefully again. "My granddaughter is with me, currently. I think she wandered off somewhere, probably saw some rich tart with a bauble she wanted to look at. She should have something for you, though, to keep you from being reduced to ashes."

LL drank deeply of her tea, set the cup down with an audible clink and stood, snapping her fingers. Walter emerged from the room to the left, and approached the lioness, making a short bow while LL began to walk away.
"Send Danae my regards. Walter should show you out. Do stop by, if you find yourself in the neighborhood." she said, giving Andrace a cursory wave and disappearing through a doorway.

Walter gave her a nervous grin, and gestured with one arm towards the door. "If m'lady would be so kind..." the frost dragon began, somehow making a dragon's fanged smile apologetic looking.

* * *

Not unexpectedly, Kiet's shout drew nothing but more silence from his surroundings, although he did manage to startle some sort of bird from the surrounding foliage. He might have continued on his merry way, content that Dr. Irisi wasn't anywhere immediately visible, except that beneath him, the deep, deep snowdrift finally collapsed, and very quickly he found himself quite buried.

Standing next to the chimney turned out to have been the safest spot he could have stood. Although he had clearly missed the roof, the snow directly in front of his face seemed to be glowing. Possibly light through a buried window?

Although she was still intrigued about the nature of the invitation, and quite desperate for information, Elizabeth forced a sincere-looking smile. Only did the implications of Tobias's words fully register once the thought of the invitation vanished from her mind. Elizabeth smirked, finding herself genuinely pleased for a compliment spoken by an inferior creature. "Aren't you a gentleman. Of course." Elizabeth folded her arms underneath the voluminous sleeves of her iridescent robe.

Andrace stifled a sudden urge to giggle at the Dragon matriarch's comment, despite the unnerving number and length of fangs exposed by her smile. "Ah, M'lady, that was a little bit b'fore m' time," she murmured, "I wasn't there." She thought it prudent not to mention that three months after that meeting, as recorded in the archives by his successor, her great-great-great-great-granduncle Stephan had been lynched by a rampaging mob of outraged and maddened literary critics. He'd never quite recovered from his hopeless infatuation, as evidenced by the increasingly baroque archive entries he'd written. The poetry was only the last straw that led to his ultimate ignominous demise.

The lioness took a mental note to ask someone, Horatio if she could find him, about this granddaughter who could give her some help. There were ways to fight a 'Cubi, and still be in a condition to lie about it afterwards. She'd been taught how, and some of her weapons should be effective against them. If she were to go up against one of the old, powerful 'Cubi, though, as Kiet Ti'Paollo was reputed to be, she'd take any help she could find, borrow or steal.

She stood quickly when the Dragon signalled that the meeting was over. And then nearly tripped over her tail as she realised the meaning of that last comment. Hooboy, she thought, I'll never get used t' that. Danae was... lemme think... m' sixth cousin, five times removed. At least. She's been dead near enough t' two hundred years, but t' Herself, that might as well be last week. She nodded to the other Dragon, Walter presumably, as he led her out of the room, but she gave a brief but honest smile when she saw Horatio was still outside in the corridor, waiting for her.

Andrace negotiated two turns in the corridor without blinking: in fact, Horatio wasn't even sure if she was still breathing. At the third turn, though, she walked straight on until she smacked muzzle-first into the wall. She didn't react in any way for a few seconds, not even with a grunt or a wallpaper-peeling oath. Then she took a deep breath, turned and wrapped her arms round Horatio in a hug that made the fox's ribs creak. Her eyes were wide and round, and her ears were laid so flat they almost disappeared into her hair. The expression on her face, though, was one of pure, incandescent determination.

"Two things, don't care which first," the lioness said in a hoarse croak, spitting the words out quickly. "A phone. An' a very, very big drink. An' then a few more. A lot more. Wait, three things. Y'r mistress mentioned her granddaughter, said she might be able t' help me. Could y' intr'duce me t' her, she's s'pposed t' be 'round here somewhere."

Kiet silently thanked the makers that no one had seen his uncoordinated and graceless tumble into a snowy winterland.  He also cursed them that no one had seen it, because he had quite a few snow related jokes he wanted to use about his predicament.

The chilled incubus burrowed his way through snow, being rather experienced with these situations, he maneuvered carefully.  Using a bit of magic, Kiet ensured the hole he made remained solid and did not collapse.

Within a few moments he had reached the source of light, a window of some buried building.  He tapped on the glass as he peered through, "helloooo, anyone home?"   

 Horatio held Andrace for awhile, giving her an encouraging pat on the back while she did her best to break as many of his ribs as possible. After a few moments, and when he felt a few of his bones creaking in protest, he gently let go, and gave her a pat on the head.
"Phone and granddaughter first, then. I get the feeling that you don't want to be speaking very well after your drinking session." he said, smiling kindly. He nodded to the left, towards the stairs. "Each room has their own phone, if you want some privacy while you talk. The mistresses granddaughter's room is fairly close, though, if you want to check with her first. Should be enough booze in your room to drown as many sorrows as you care, also." he grinned.

"Hey, it couldn't have been as bad as all that." he said, giving her another smile. "You've got all your appendages, and I don't see any obviously missing fur..."


* * *

Kiet's eyes adjusted to the glow being cast through the windows - the light shining through the window was being cast by a magic-based lantern, one of the supposed 'everburning' fires which lasting only for a few hundred years or so. It explained why the chimney was quiet but the light was burning, however.
As his eyes adjusted, however, the sight he saw through the windows was not what he expected at all.

Dead bodies. At least six of them, ripped to pieces as though some giant had taken their limbs and popped them off, like a malicious child might tear off an insect's wings. Brutal gashes ripped through their torsos, spilling intestines and bathing the floor in a stagnant, now-sticky pool of blood. All of them were in varying states of dress - one dressed nicely in what was once an expensive tweed suit, the others in workwear or simply casual clothing. They seemed to be mostly canids, although some were now unrecognizable. One of them was missing a muzzle.
Beyond the gore, the walls were painted in blood with images - a dog's slavering face, a crude caricature of a man having his brains beaten out with a sledgehammer, dozens of glasgow smiles - over the mantle, barely visible from where he was looking in, there was a strange, almost-heart shaped outline.

What wasn't covered in blood seemed to be related to some kind of mapping process. Sheets of paper stapled to the walls, scrolls of blue paper unrolled onto desks showed winding paths the incubus didn't immediately recognize, along with small boxes and clear cases filled with various smaller objects, some that shone gently in the everburning lamp's fire.

* * *

"You are too kind to me." Tobias said, unable to take her hand and kiss it, and thus relegated to having to bow. "But it seems, too, that the hour has grown late..." he said, looking around. It truly had gone dark outside, the stars shining and the moon beaming down gently. "I tell you what. I have some business I must take care of before I retire for the evening. What say we meet for lunch tomorrow, hm? Around one O'clock?" he grinned at Elizabeth hopefully.

There was a moment's hesitation, as the bat pondered the wisdom of any sort of sudden or surprising move. But after a couple of seconds of thought she realized that not only did she have the upper hand at the moment, most probably, but that most sense and caution had gone out the window the moment she was openly attacked in this desolate castle and people started piling bodies in backrooms. If suddenly this creep decided to assail her as well, then that was pretty much confirmation that she should make her way out of the madhouse as soon as possible. But there had been no question of that from the start. No, the question right then was whether or not this little thing would aid her or stand in the way.
   'So it seems you have some sense in your head, at least. Even if it's technically not your own', she said, her gaze seemingly wanting to spear the frog's fast. 'You should listen to him.'

After a minute or so, Andrace's crushing grip on Horatio's ribs eased. She stepped back and let go of the fox, nuzzling his hand for a moment as he stroked her hair. Confidence gradually flowed back into her face, and her ears slowly came back up to their normal posture. She nodded self-assuredly. "Th' granddaughter first, she might have more t' tell me b'fore I make that call. Ah, what's her name, anyway? Don't want t' go 'round callin' her hey you all th' time."

The lioness grinned wryly at Horatio's last comment. "I think I got chunks missin' where y' can't see 'em. Y'r mistress has a leeetle bit o' an overwhelmin' personality — if she don't watch out, she'll turn too sudden an' whap y' on th' muzzle wi' it."

Kiet dropped all pretense of the kindly and lost traveler.  The ringtail stepped through the wall, and he now wore the appearance of a more sinister figure.  Drawing his dark cloak about him, he freely stepped through the room, the stagnant blood parting like some carnal horror Red Sea.

Waving his hands about in sweeping arcs, the accomplished sorcerer weaved an incantation delved from tireless lucabration in dark musty libraries, wizardly towers and arcane universities long lost to time.  The dweomer swirled about him, drifting to every corner of the room.  The words the cubi spoke were those that any clansman of A' Ghàidhealtachd would have sworn to be his native tongue, but this gramarye was no seiðr, but a form of necromancy lost to history.

Kiet's spell altered the flow of time and reality, bending it to that echo in dimensionality where spiritual essence escaped due to the violent profanation of the sanctity of life that had occurred.  The effect was expected to be one that played the events immediately before, during and after the violent cessation of life.  It would paint an eerie, ghostly overlay onto the reality that was present.

Kiet was also wary of anything that lingered still, be it living or ghost.  The cat also made note to investigate the mappings and the mantle.

OOC: the spell shows truth that only the dead and the murderer could see.
 

 Horatio simply smiled at Andrace. "She's really quite pleasant when things are going smoothly." he said, and blinked. He mouth pursed itself strangely, and he reached up to adjust his shades.
"Of course, ah...I'll have to ask you forget I said that." he managed to say without croaking. He gave her a lopsided grin. "Ahem."

He coughed. "We'll go see the Mistress's Granddaughter, then. She asks to be called Melodie, or Mel." he said, pointing to the hall behind Andrace and maneuvering around her. It wasn't very far at all - a brisk walk down the hall and to the left, the first room on the right.

Horatio straightened his collar and knocked cordially, and in a slightly rhythmic succession.

* * *

The dark room fluttered, ghostly fire flickering around Kiet's feet and spreading along the floor as he completed his spell. The room itself was overlaid with the eldritch fire, the effect much like seeing double, the ghostly image just barely displaced with the very real one.

Seven stood around the table to Kiet's left, dotted then with maps and artifacts, and now sticky with blood and flecks of gore. All of them looked lean, and the lack of sleep was ringed around their eyes. A few had blood stains on their clothing, or had it ripped in strange places. Kiet remembered the peasant uprising that occurred no more than a few months ago in the province - perhaps scars from an occupation of some sort?

There were two huskies, big strapping creatures with gray at their temples and the demeanor of weathered rocks - of all the seven, only those two occasionally glanced at the map. Their hands were dusty and caked with mud, and their clothing rough - the mud and grime on their shoes, the light coating of dust on their pants, suggested a recent trip underground.
The other five stood silently staring at an object on the table. A basset hound in a tweed suit and spectacles, two coyotes, one dignified looking jackal in a dress suit with the collar undone and without a tie - Kiet recognized him as the owner of the missing muzzle - and a feline with a scar running down one eye.

The one from before, in the hotel. He wore an eyepatch here, and looked rather better groomed, but there was no mistaking. It was the same being, looking intently with the others at the object set on the table. A mirror, set in ornately carved grey stone.

They all appeared to be discussing something. As they spoke, the tomcat reached forward and grabbed the mirror, looking into the mirror quizzically. His expression grew concerned.

As he looked, the others very suddenly stopped talking, and began looking around the room sharply. One of the huskies ran towards the window, flipping a curtain open, and screamed at the others, slamming wooden shutters closed just a moment later, latching them. They must have been unlocked at some point before Kiet found himself outside the window.

The jackal ran towards the door - Kiet noticed a wooden plank set beside it, and iron holders bolted into the door and the wall beside it. He slipped the bar into them quickly, and seemingly not a moment too soon - the door rattled just moments later, shaking violently on its hinges. The basset hound grabbed a poker from the fireplace. The other husky grabbed a chair, and the coyotes produced knives from somewhere. The jackal drew a revolver from inside his coat.
The feline hadn't moved, still staring at the mirror. The cat's ghostly image shimmered, somehow, and the expression on it's face was twisted - its eyes widened in horror, but its mouth twisted in a feral, elated grin.
It dropped the mirror. As Kiet saw it roll away, he was surprised to see the real one still on the floor, sticky with blood inside its ghostly counterpart.

The feline produced a machete from inside his coat, and walked calmly towards the shuddering door while the others watched him. No-one made a move to stop him until the last moment, when he grabbed the wooden bar outright - but it was too late. He flipped it out of the iron holders easily, before anyone could grab him.
The door burst open, knocking the feline prone with the force of it. Kiet noticed he rolled away just fast enough to keep from being trampled, and that those storming the building paid him no mind. Beings poured into the room, indistinguishable in number. They were a veritable mob - most of them poorly dressed, and armed with sticks and rocks and farming implements -  and there were at least thirty trying to force their way into the cabin.
The jackal fired one shot, then two, and was taken down by a pitchfork to the gut. The others were simply swallowed by the mass, unable to keep the tide of bodies at bay.

What followed next was a scene out of a charnel house. They were all butchered, and when they had torn them apart, they left. Except for the feline, who seemed to be crying in the corner.
Kiet saw the ghostly form raise it's head, and realized that it was laughing. Tears rolled down the feline's cheeks as it's mouth opened wide, and it stumbled around the room for a few moments before slipping and falling into the gore, where it continued to shudder. Eventually, it got up again - and dipped a hand into the pooling blood. Before the ghostly vision faded, Kiet saw him beginning to write on the walls.

Andrace's muzzle and whiskers barely twitched, although one eye flickered in a miniscule wink. "Not a word shall pass m' lips," she murmured quietly. Her tail was another matter: it curled and looped bouncily in the feline equivalent of a loud and disreputable snigger.

The lioness followed Horatio back along the corridor, her amusement quickly fading. She'd already faced one Dragon tonight, and she hoped talking to this Melodie wouldn't be as nerve-wracking an experience. As the fox knocked on a door, she braced herself, taking a deep breath, shoulders back, holding her head up, and preparing to dive to one side of the door just in case.

Mel was just eyeing the pile of pastries that were the dessert to the meal she had snuck out of her grandmother's dining room when a knock on the door saved both the lemon filled and chocolate covered treats she was debating between. The pattern of the knock told her it wasn't just one of her grandmother's retinue, but that they had brought company with them.

As she crossed the room to open the door she swapped back to her snow leopard form. Most people found a dragon's natural form a bit unnerving, even a size challenged one like her. As she opened the door she saw it was Horatio with a very tall lioness. Evidently she shouldn't have worried about being too intimidating.

Jeremiah thought the woman had gone (ha ha!) batty for a split second before he realized what she was talking about. His eyes widened minutely in comprehension, narrowed briefly in suspicion, but otherwise he had quite the poker face. The others, however, didn't really have poker minds.
She knows! Grab the poker in the fireplace, scag the bitch and claim the insectis did it!
Hide! For the love of god man she's probably a creature. You know what? Let me take over, I'll get us-
BREAKBREAKBREAKBREAK-
Sir, quiet these ruffians! Our best odds are to work with her. She obviously has power, this could be-
Heheheheheeheheheheheheehaha-ahheeheeahooahaha...
I like what the insectis did with the wall! Can he do that with our place?
SHUT. UP. Jeremiah's own mental shout echoed around his own skull for a second or two before things quieted down. He brushed an imaginary bit of dust off the shoulder of his uniform and smiled at the bat.
"So, how can I help you?"

To Elyse, the more confidence-inspiring part of the frog's response was, without a doubt, his quick response and the anxiety that streamed from him momentarily, along with his voices. Well, not all of them, but at least... okay, two of them. That was sufficient. In a group of ten, usually about two or three would be somewhat clever. His smile sliding right back on worried her though. Most likely he was just putting up a facade, but she certainly didn't read the level of distress from him that she thought she should have. Did he think he were that slick? A momentary glance at a glistening piece of his skin, and she nearly grunted. Freudian thoughts. She had to keep focus. And keep control.
   'I want some information on the staff, for the moment', the bat said, the glowing yellow gleam in the middle of her polished black eyes holding Jeremiah's gaze for a couple of seconds, oozing subtle meaning, before they flashed to the Insectis briefly and she gave Karazkt a little nod. 'Though it can wait for a few minutes while you do your duties.' She let her look fall onto the frog again. Which will buy me some more thinking time, she added to herself.

"I think things are taken care of here." Jeremiah glanced at Karazkt and grinned, "But if you have any trouble remember, the name's Jeremiah Ac'Gregor. If you have any trouble at all ask the staff to send me along and I'll be right there." After all, I'm good at looking after people like this kid. They tend to stay in one place, so you just gotta steer anything oncoming away from them and keep 'em from getting spooked by the big wide world. "Now then..." Jeremiah searched his memory for a second, then realized what he was doing wrong and pestered Plic for the answer until she gave it back. "Elyse, yes? I'd assume you'd prefer this discussion in private?"
And then we scag the-
Nobody's scagging anyone Bal.
But-!
No.
But-!
Noooo.
Bu-!
Shaddap.

As the images faded from view Kiet smiled wistfully, Elindaea would have approved, but then again, why would I care about her approval.  He shrugged to himself, perhaps all the carnage and his use of necromancy brought back memory of the former head of magical sciences in his current place of employment.   

That was history, now he had more pressing matters to which he must attend.  A strange black creature Unfolded from the space next to him.  It crackled with red energy and possessed eyes of the same color.  The creature spoke in a voice reminiscent of flesh sizzling on the fire, how may I be of service?

"Xi, be a doll and examine these late gentlemen and see if they have anything interesting on them."

Ch-Ya!  Like what... guts... spleens?  I didn't think you were into cannibalism 

Kiet narrowed his eyes, "their pockets you burnt marshmallow twit.  One also had a gun... revolver, see if you can find it.  Oh, and it isn't cannibalism if they aren't my same species.  Canines are rather stringy you know."

Xi gave his master the proverbial raspberry and then "sighed" as he turned towards the carnage.  The Warp-Aci drifted off to each body, examining them for anything interesting, whoo! lootin corpses, I hope their treasure table doesn't suck.

Kiet carefully kneeled down and wove an incantation of levitation on the strange mirror.  As it ascended, Kiet rose until he was standing and the mirror was eye level.  The feline began the basic words for an object read.  The spell completed and the first thing he saw was a solid white mask with a crack running through it where the mouth should be. 

He could not place it and prepared to go deeper in his scry, but a strong, bitter cold came over him, chilling the incubus to the spine.  He ended his reading immediately with a shiver, a sense of dread had overcome him as he prepared to look further into the mirror.  Carefully he took the mirror, wrapping it in his cloak for safe keeping.  It would be best not to do this alone.

Shaking the feeling off, he moved to examine the mantle and found a drawing that almost resembled the mask that he had seen with his scry spell. 

As he searched around, the papers signified the area as the archaeological dig that Durano had wanted him to check out.  "this is why I don't do favors for Durano." 

He moved on to the maps, which he could not make much out of.  Kiet did not recognize them and he had no frame of reference as to where they might be.  They were marked Dig One, Dig Two and Dig Three, respectively.  The third map showed the tunnel splits into two passages and becomes quite intricate.

Kiet was not put off by the smell of rotting flesh or the gore of the slain canids.  He had done far worse to his enemies and victims across the ages, times were once very brutal and barbaric, and this was a child's game in comparision.

Elizabeth contemplatively assessed her schedule, wondering if there were any events set to occur at that certain time period. Of course, if they were issued by those responsible for distributing the invitations, then Tobias, a recipient, would be present as well. Elizabeth had nothing to worry about. Feeling rather confident with her planning skills, she nodded proudly. "Sounds wonderful," she conceded, and then smirked. "I will see you then, good sir."

With a flourish of her sleeve, Elizabeth swung her arm underneath the trunk and scooped it up again, holding it in both of her arms. This alleviated the weight, slightly, but it was still pretty heavy - not that Tobias could tell, as Elizabeth still carried herself with an almost regal gait.

   Karazkt was not taken by surprise when the new surfacer entered the room; indeed, it was nearly impossible for him to not know she was coming. She walked on the stone (of course), and was close enough that Karazkt could easily "feel" her shape from the vibrations before she even walked into view.
   However, when she did, and then proceeded to interact with Jeremiah, most of their brief conversation flew right over Karazkt's carapaced head. He did discern that part of what they were talking about seemed to be for tomorrow's event, then they seemed to talk as if there was someone else around, and then they spoke about the 'staff'. At one point, the newcomer nodded her head to Karazkt, but since his race express themselves mostly with their antennae, the gesture was lost on him.

'Very much so', the bat agreed. 'Even if I suspect some others will be pitching in their opinions as well...'
   Giving the Insectis another nod, more respectful this time, though refraining from addressing him - she had absolutely no way of telling which gender Karazkt was; the creature didn't even seem to think about such things or put pronouns before its already nearly unintelligible thoughts, and calling something 'gentlething' would be beyond her - Elyse turned a bit and stepped away from the door, taking a few steps down the corridor but not quite turning away from the frog before giving him a glance back over her shoulder, just a hint of impatience in her movements.
   Still, even in her disdain for the amphibian, the bat couldn't help but think about his condition, theories about those voices taking up her attention. People with multiple personalities usually had some sort of trauma or repression to blame for their condition. And their voices thus tended to represent some sort of extreme of personality. But these voices didn't quite 'sound' or 'feel' like that sort of thing. And there were the constant tiny fluxes of emotion in the background that indicated that they all seemed present at once, a strange thing for those who knew how such things really worked...

Jeremiah threw one last "Remember, you know who to call if you need anything," over his shoulder at the insectis and followed Elyse. He considered the individual before him. Initial impression was off. She ain't that old, just strict looking. Used to getting what she wants... Or the impatience could just be whatever has her worried. And she knew about his Condition, somehow. Or seemed to. Cubi? Some breed of mythos? Know I've heard of these things up in the mountain, they can tell whatever someone was thinking exactly three seconds prior using their sense of smell. Something about brain chemistry.
Your brain is fine.
Says the parasites in it.
That was mean!
Jeremiah sighed. The problem with insulting the personalities, ultimately, was that Plic was one of them. The personae was at a fundimental level too stupid to be cruel, and thus offending her was like kicking the world's largest puppy. Except the puppy's in your head, so it can stare at you all hurt from the inside. He thought very hard about an art gallery until the memories grew a little hazy, a sure sign that Plic had accepted the peace offering. He'd probably get it back later, she was always leaving her things everywhere.
Not for the first time, Jeremiah considered how messed up being him was sometimes.
FOCUS, Jeremiah!
Right, right. So... Definitely not a being, and scared. It's to be assumed the cause is really BIG or relates more to this ones troubles in particular. Time for some fishing.
"So, find yourself invited to these sorts of things often?" The frog asked mildly.

Andrace's muscles tensed as the door opened... revealing a rather fluffy and harmless-looking snow leopard who probably didn't even come up to the lioness's shoulder. She seemed innocuous enough, but Andrace forced herself to remember this was the granddaughter of the Icewing matriarch, who'd brought her closer to outright panic than she'd been for years. She glanced at Horatio for a moment, and hoped devoutly that this meeting would end well.

 The iron merchant nodded his hat at Elizabeth and grabbed his own suitcase, and began walking to his own room - they parted ways quickly, Elizabeth's lodgings on a different floor than his, but even without looking at him, that face...the scars and burns, shapes and contours - she could probably tell that man how he'd gained each and every one from memories of that face.
She'd never met him before, of course, but she had seen that face. It was...eerie.

* * *

The warp-aci's rifling through the pockets of the dead produced a surprising number of items - it was apparent that the bodies, until then, hadn't been looted or otherwise touch. Certainly by the smell in the room, they'd been there for some time.
Five wallets, a few sets of keys, and a pocket flashlight made up most of the loot. The revolver seemed to be missing, although the Warp-Aci placed a handful of the ammunition that was still in the Jackal's pocket on the table. The bullets gleamed with a silver tip and with a subtle light of their own. It was likely they were enchanted in some way.

A quick check of the wallets revealed that Dr. Gerard Irisi was the portly fellow in the tweed. Now very deceased, it seemed. There was also twenty-five dollars and a gift card to a local eatery, as well as a card that Kiet recognized as one of the aliases of his cousin Durano.

It was eerily quiet in the snowed-in house. In the thick insulation of the snow, one couldn't even hear the wind outside, except for the low murmur that came from the chimney.

* * *

"Ma'am." Horatio said, and inclined his head in a bow, "Andrace Kithara to see you. The mistress said you would be expecting her." his tone was formal and polite, but friendly as well. This one seemed to be someone you could be more at ease around.

He nodded at Andrace. "This is Melodie Icewing, the Mistress's granddaughter." he said. He looked back at Mel. "Hopefully not a surprise visit, yes? Your grandmother said you would have something for her."

Under the circumstances, with the question so quickly addressed and things so tense, Elyse didn't have time for any sort of analysis, or to find some better thing to do than to reply and get right to the point. Against her better knowledge, her answer was straight and to the point.
   'Frequently, you could say, but that depends on the perspective,' she scathed. 'Do I get invited? No. Do I find myself in places and situations like this? Yes.' She moved on, plainly taking the lead even though the frog was supposed to guide her, but she imagined that if they somehow did not manage to find their way back to her room in spite of her having taken a fairly straight route this might prove a point. 'I certainly haven't been to many society gatherings though, where the janitors have turned insane and jumped out to stab me, only to kill themselves the very next moment. That's a new one.' She cast an apprehensive glance over her shoulder back at the frog.

What is the sound of seven minds panicking?
Whut?
You know, I might like this shindig after all.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Sir, I believe we should investigate!
Shut up, Cab! We're not nearly durable enough to risk it! We hide, right now! Skip town!
Silence Nex!
Sounds like a dreadful waste of a janitor...
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
That last one was Jeremiah. He was visibly shaken, and slipped a piece of "jerky" out of his pocket to calm his nerves.
"Well -ulp-" he finished the mouthful and continued as his voices faded to a pleasant buzz, "Well, that's most certainly, ah, unprecedented. I honestly wouldn't know anything about that. I'm new; the rest of the staff has struck me as kind of funny before, but not suicidal."

Mel looked from the tall lioness to Horatio and back for a second, then smiled in understanding. "You must be the one for whom grandmother ordered the charm. Please come in." Mel opened the door wide and crossed the room to where a small bag had been left out on a table. She picked up the bag, about the size of a clutch purse, and began pulling items out. Two hammers, a handful of files, and a smallish anvil landed on the bed before she found what she was looking for, a cloth wrapped bundle the size of her palm. "I apologize for the mess. I was working on this right up until we left."

Returning to where Horatio and Andrace were standing she unfolded the cloth to reveal a bracelet, glittering where the light hit heavily engraved gold with the faintest dusting of tiny diamonds sprinkled judiciously across the surface.

Andrace nodded politely and murmured "Miss Icewing," as Horatio introduced her, and followed the fox into the room. The lioness stood in a relaxed but attentive pose, although if anyone noticed the way her bare toes dug into the carpet, with her claws partly unsheathed, it might have revealed her readiness to turn and dive back through the door if she had to. Whether or not it was open.

She watched with interest as the snow leopard — obviously a shapeshifted Dragon — brought out a heavy gold bracelet. She mentally tallied up its value, judging by the amount of gold (if it was solid, and pure), the tiny inset diamonds (unless they were glass: doubtful), and the excellent craftsmanship. The total was quite impressive. A pretty little bauble: so it's got a charm on it, then? she thought inquisitively. Wonder if I can get it home, let Despina have a look at it? Andrace's younger sister was the only mage in the current Pride, and she was always looking for new tricks to adapt for their own use. A protective charm designed by a Dragon would definitely attract her interest.

Out loud, the lioness said, "Looks nice, Miss Icewing. Y' say it's enchanted... what's it s'posed t' do?"

"Do?" echoed Mel. Now that was interesting. Grandmother had been so specific in her request for the design of the charm that Mel had assumed it was a requested item, the purchase price of some piece of information the family matriarch wanted for her hoard. But this meant it was either a gift or a tool. "It is a defensive charm. When worn it masks your emotions and thoughts. Further, it defends against mental intrusions. If someone attempts to read your mind they will hear nothing but the song "The Song that Never Ends..." If they try to force the issue they will find the song stuck in their own head so loud and distracting that they will be hard pressed to think straight."

As she held out the bracelet for the lioness to take she added, "It also gives you minty fresh breath."

Kiet gathered the items and looked them over.  He made note of names and addresses, but it would seem that all of them were from far off lands.  A few receipts from the jackal, a... Timothy Daniels, were of interesting note.  The gun was apparently purchased there.

"Firearms are such rare things, especially those that mix enchantment and technology.  This rudimentary technique... this technomancy, might be interesting.  It might be worth founding a new school of arcana even if it is based off of beings' work."

He spent enough time with each corpse to read the personality imprints from their dead brains, before gathering what he sought to take. 

With a wave of his hand, Kiet blew the front door (or what remained of it) away and blasted all of the existing snow from in front of the residence.  Like some recently released phantom, the ringtail drew his cloak about him and soundlessly drifted from the cabin.

Kiet never looked back, Xi did as he drifted near him, but even that was only a brief glance.  With a wink and a small high-five, the warp-aci disappeared.  Inside, a small pebble of flame appeared in the center of the room, within seconds it expanded into a massive spinning ball of flame.  All manner of item be it body or dust bunny began to be drawn towards it.  Within a minute the inside of the cabin was a swirling vortex inferno of burning things. 

The cabin itself collapsed inward, drawing much of the snow into the vortex of fire.  It burned blue-hot at the height of its power.   Then as quickly as it had formed and expanded, it shrank to nothingness, disappearing with a puff of smoke.  All that remained of the site was a 2-foot deep circular crater, no trace of anything even hinted at what may have been there.

As the cubi walked towards town, he hummed a small tune to himself, something to do with a banana phone.

Reaching the edge of town, a fox being dressed in dark clothing and sporting a fine dress trenchcoat examined the local signage looking for one in particular.  She found what she had needed and proceeded down a street named "Revelations".  The golden vixen smiled as she approached the shop on the receipt and fingered the bullets she had procured earlier.

Pushing open the door, she entered, "I say, is anyone there?"

Andrace listened intently to the details of the bracelet's enchantments, her ears and whiskers perked forward, her tailtip flicking lazily from side to side. The smile of satisfaction that slowly grew on her muzzle was very small, but very predatory. Then she nearly ruined the mood by having to stifle a giggling fit at the Dragon's final words.

"M' thanks, Miss Icewing," she said after she was sure she'd firmly stamped on her urge to laugh. "This'll be ideal t' help me in... th' little job y'r grandmother wants me t' do f'r her." The lioness reached out to take the bracelet, then bounced it gently in her hand a few times to gauge the weight.

Yep, feels 'bout right an' looks 'bout right for pure gold, or near 'nough, she thought. An' wi' those enchantments on it... won't do th' job for me, but I'll at least have a better chance o' not goin' home as a jar o' chunky salsa. An'... minty fresh breath? All right, I've not been able t' brush m' fangs properly th' last couple o' days, but it's not that bad already, is it?

Andrace pulled her right sleeve up a few inches and slipped her hand into the bracelet. Not too snug a fit, to mat and crinkle the fur on her wrist, and not too heavy, to throw off her balance at a critical moment. Good enough. She pulled her sleeve back down. It almost covered the bracelet, just a thin golden glitter still showing when she moved her arm.

She nodded in satisfaction. "M' thanks again, Miss Icewing," she said with a genuinely pleased smile, "this should be perfect."

Tramping on, the bat swiveled her head and gaze from the left to the right, her mind alert and sharp and her attention flashing at every movement, every hint of activity or change. The yellow glow at the center of her eyes flickered and flared intermittently.
   'Yeah? That's good news for me then,' Elyse retorted sharply to Jeremiah, fingers curling and flexing and her smooth black claws gleaming. She didn't have her wings out but she would be ready to act on a moment's notice. 'If that's true that makes you at least a little less likely to be in on killing me. Or is it everyone else who dares show up here?' She shook her head and made a little bitter chuckle. 'Why am I asking you? And where the hell is that room?!'

 The bell dinged, and behind the counter, a magazine twitched as a muzzled face appeared from behind it, and was promptly set down. The badger's feet thumped from the countertop to the floor as he stood.
"Ah, I'm sorry ma'am, that should have been locked, we're actually closed..."

The clock read 11 PM, while the hours stated that the shop closed at nine. The Badger paused for a moment as he looked at this new customer, and adjusted the smallish glasses set perched on his nose.
"We don't have much in the way of what you might be looking for here, either...we carry only very plain weapons here, nothing like what madam might be used to..."

* * *

Horatio coughed softly - the fox had been heretofore silent during the conversation, of course. Now that Andrace had gotten what the mistress had requested her to get, however, he seemed somewhat eager to get out of the room.

His expression was carefully blank, of course, but his posture and stance, carefully leaving the open door clear, standing just by the side at an angle, seemed to communicate that they should leave the snow leopard - who, if his nose was in indication - was missing a fine dessert while they stood there.

   Karazkt remained in place for a few moments after the two surfacers had left. He then waved his antennae in the Insectis equivalent of a shrug, and walked to his little cell. He knew he was a surfacer day early for this event, and he figured someone would retrieve him when it was to start. Even though it wasn't the right interval of a cycle (underground Insectis day), he would attempt to rest until then.
   He slid himself back into the small cell, curling up again and sealing the 'hatch' with a little burst of earth magic. After a few moments, he realized just how difficult resting was going to be. He was perfectly capable of just staying still and unmoving for any period of time, but actually sleeping wouldn't be so easy. He had always gone to sleep at a precise time every cycle, and woke up at precisely the same time every cycle, as part of the hive that functioned as a single rotating unit. He'd kept to that regimen during his journey to the surface unerringly.
   He then realized he'd have the same problem later, possibly during the event, but in reverse; instead of being unable to sleep, his body and mind would be telling him it was the time of the cycle to rest and regenerate.
   He began to ponder how else this surface world was going to conflict with him...

Andrace glanced over her shoulder at Horatio when he coughed, then turned her attention back to the Dragon. "If that's everything, then I'll let y' get back t' y'r business, Miss Icewing," she said with a friendly smile. Her whiskers twitched, and her eyes flicked for a moment towards the tray of pastries on a side table: she knew exactly what "business" she'd interrupted. "P'rhaps we'll meet again at th' Castle t'morrow. Until then, a good night t' you." The lioness gave a quick half-bow, turned and walked out into the corridor. When Horatio closed the door, she leaned against the wall and sighed — not too loudly, the Dragon was just inside the room — with relief.

"So, is that it for t'night, Horatio?" she asked the fox. "Will I see y' t'morrow, or are y' still... accompanyin' me?" She tilted her head slightly to one side. That predatory little grin was back on her face, and the end of her tail curled comfortably around her left ankle.

The vixen smiled apologetically, "dreadfully sorry my good man, but I was unable to sleep and I thought I might look into something."

The Countess looked about the room at the assemblage of weaponry and giggled, a sound very lady like yet rife with suggestive tones of one who is being constantly underestimated.  "Nothing like what madam might be used to?  I would rather doubt that, for I am Countess Gladia Reynada of House Reynada, descendant of Vixana Reynada the Legendary Heroine.  My family has been adventurers and warriors for centuries, and I am no exception to this tradition."

This was a little white lie, as the form that was being used was actually of the Legendary Vixana herself.  Kiet had slain her many, many centuries ago, consuming her soul and ironically fueling a myth of her great deeds.  No one has ever known what happened to the legend, well no one but Vixana and Kiet that is.

"Fear not shop keeper, for I am not offended, snap judgements such as that are what give me an edge in combat.  Especially against arrogant creatures like dragons, demons and most especially 'cubi.  Since you are closed, I shall not hold up your precious time having to take my considerable wealth.  Instead, I shall ask a question."  She paused as if considering her words, "recently I have been introduced to a strange blending of modern weaponry and magic."

The vixen produced a single bullet, "this bullet is imbued with magic.  This sample was given to me by another adventurer colleague of mine.  I have been searching the world for the secrets behind these, as they are rather handy, or at the very least a source from which to purchase.  It might be nice to have another pistol... I wonder if anyone enchants them as well?  My family tradition is sword and magic, but a wise fox understands the versatility and advantage of keeping up to date on modern weapons.  Might you know something about this bullet and its enchantment and where I might find some?"

The Countess appeared to be thinking wistfully, in actuality, Kiet was using a subtle amount of influence to loosen the badger's mouth and mind enough to want to speak on the topic and perhaps do business.

OOC Note: ultimately it is the GM's decision, but my intent is that Vixana Reynada is truly a legend of epic proportions... well known across the lands.

 Horatio, glasses still firmly over those eyes, smiled - despite his best efforts, it turned out lopsided and cheeky rather than polite. "If I do recall, ma'am," he said, "They did not mention when I was to stop accompanying you." He leaned his head forward a little bit, giving a glimpse of those sea-green eyes sparkling.

He paused, and continued. "And if I also recall, you still need a phonecall and a drink, correct? If you would be so inclined, there should be a phone for personal use in your room. I'm sure I could find something to drink while you're talking."

* * *

The badger raised and eyebrow, and with the willpower of a seasoned clerk and storeowner managed to not look at the clock, but rather at the customer in front of him. My own damn fault for leaving the door open. Squirrels coming in at all hours, asking questions...

It appeared that he didn't quite understand who he was talking to at the moment - it could have been the hour, but it didn't appear that he would have recognized his own name if it wasn't on his shirt. He straightened his spectacles.
"May I see it?" he asked, grabbing it out of her hand before she could respond. He turned it over a few times in his hand, squinting, made a noise, and set it down on the counter before turning around and heading behind the counter again. His head ducked down beneath the mahogany, and Kiet could hear him rummaging around in something. He came back up holding a magazine and a box of ammunition.

"That appears to be Velvet Jack's silver-tip special .45." he said, setting the magazine and box down in front of the vixen. "This is a box of the same. This is their trade magazine."
"The silver is blessed, melted into bullets, and then sent to an arcanist. The bullet itself is then runed and enchanted for various effects - oftentimes to toughen the bullet, as blessed silver is not ideal for hard targets. The special, if I recall..." he paused. "Is kinetic momentum. Something about adding half again as much force behind the shot. There are various others. Immolating rounds are popular. They make cartridges for shotguns that have a homing effect. Each pellet individually runed. Not cheap."

"Stuff's been out for about a year now, mostly in trade shows and the like. We pride ourselves in carrying a variety of stock. You an aficionado, Miss Rey...you said Miss Reynada?"
He blinked, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to recall where he'd heard the name before.

"Yes indeed, Reynada, from the Kingdom of Gavriel.  It is east of here, over the Edenmyst mountains and across the Isenmarch.  I have been invited here and thought I might check out the local weaponshop.  As for my interest, I am more of a practitiononer of the arts martial and a slayer of creatures.  So I will always be in the market for something which will increase my arsenal."

The vixen gathered up the magazine and flipped through it.  She paused after a brief moment, "do you happen to sell a firearm of the same calibur as this ammunition?"

Kiet had been putting off examining firearms for too long now.  They were becoming more and more available as the years progressed and he thought it wise to incorporate them into his Battle Tactics classes.

"I know you are closed, but I do have a large sack of gold currency that I have been determined to use to buy a new weapon."

The fox placed a very large pouch filled with small gold trade bars on the counter and fluttered her eyes innocently at the shop keeper.

After his meal had arrived Aruk started to wolf it down out of habit, but as soon as the first bite hit his tongue he was taken back by the taste. "Oh my! mmm" It had been what seemed like forever since he'd had such a meal as this, enough so that he had stopped and was now savoring every bite.

The steak was tender and moist, with just the right amount of kick in it's seasoning and garnished with some kind of herb that was unfamiliar to Aruk. As for the potatoes they were also just as flavorful as the stake, steamed with a hint of roasted garlic, slathered in butter, and garnished with parsley and sprinkled with pieces bacon.

When the meal was finished Aruk relaxed an reflected on the meal as he finished his glass of wine, and once finished he called the waitress for the bill. As he sat in the booth waiting for the bill he thought to himself "I wonder what that herb was, because even by it's self it was wonderful." His expression was now quite different from the serious face he had arrived with and had turned into one of complete satisfaction.

Andrace's ears dipped slightly, and her expression changed to one of determination. "Phone call, right," she said grimly, "better get that done right now." The lioness pushed herself off from the wall and strode away quickly, only glancing back once to make sure Horatio was following her. The fox could see her ears twitching and dipping as she walked, and her tail flicked and bounced back and forth.

Back in her room, Andrace closed the door and locked it as soon as Horatio was inside. She waved him over to one of a pair of comfortable chairs on either side of the fireplace, and took a seat herself beside the phone. She glanced at the calendar on the wall, then looked thoughtful for a moment: she seemed to be counting forwards and backwards on her fingers, in an odd pattern. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and lifted the phone. Quickly but carefully she dialled a much longer than usual number. Her hand hovered over the phone, making it more difficult for Horatio to see exactly what she'd just dialled. She let it ring three times, hung up, then dialled what might have been the same number again, and wedged the handset between her shoulder and cheek.

"Ah, Despina, y're back, how'd it go? ... Oh, just tell Zach it'll heal up fine, an' his girl won't ever notice. Whoever she is this week. Brothers, eh? ... Not sure, though ... oh, y' did? Have t' look in m' pack later, that's great! Love ya, sis! ... Ah, one more thing. Th' Golden Cat's a what, not a who, little golden statue — ow!" The lioness flinched, snatched the phone as it fell from her shoulder, and held it at arm's length. Several loud shrieks could still be heard clearly from the other end of the line. When the noise had died down, she put the phone back to her ear again, cautiously.

"Ah, yeah, she is here. Just did. An' yeah, she did. No, I won't. ... Hope y' were sittin' down, Despina ... oh, y' are now? On Eugenia? Well, pick th' poor dear up, dust 'er off, an' tell 'er it's her turn t' go an' tell Aunt Kalliroe. Need t' get a note put in th' archives 'bout that, right away."

The lioness paused, a very faint growl rumbling deep in her chest, and her tail lashed once from root to tip. Finally she spoke a string of words, her voice softer but still very clear. "Autumn gale. Midnight flower. Broken claw." Very gently, she put the phone down, stood, and crossed the room to sit in the other fireside chair beside Horatio. "Now I really need that drink," she said, her gaze fixed not on the fox's face, but apparently the back of his head.

 The badger looked at the bag of gold, licked his teeth beneath his lips, and reached into his pocket. Kiet could hear the jangle of keys.

"For that kind of money, madam doesn't want that caliber ammunition." he said, turning and unlocking one side of the richly-lacquered wooden cabinet behind him. Unexpectedly, the entire front of the cabient, from counter-end to counter-end, slid to the side, exposing rack upon rack of firearms. Rifles stacked upon each other, shotguns standing like monoliths in a velvet desert, and more pistols than candy in a sweet shop greeted the eye. He reached in, grabbing something off the green surface, and then reached into a knee-high counter at his side, stacking three 3X5 boxes on top of each other and then setting them all down in front of the vixen.
As he set them down, he knelt and produced something else, three longish, thin-looking things with a wide base, which he set next to the gun.

"This is the Bird of Paradise." he said, nodding at the silvery gun in front of him. It looked nothing like the revolver that the jackal had been wielding - it had no wheel in which the bullets were inserted, and it seemed much larger than the other gun, enough that one might be able to use it as a bludgeon as much as a firearm.

"It's what colloquially known as a big-game weapon, and it is the most powerful handgun that I know of - .457 calibur rounds, Velvet Jack manufacture, Casaul specials. Again, blessed silver melted down into bullets and enchanted to increase the kinetic power behind it by half. It's generally not a good seller, as it blows most game in this area in half."

There was an engraved bird on the slide of the weapon - silver outlines weren't able to communicate color, of course, but from what he could see it appeared to represent some sort of phoenix, engulfed in flames. The signature of the weaponmaker appeared after it, a cursive scrawl that declared it a product of "Crown Weapons".
"This is a semi-automatic weapon, something relatively new. You know how to use this?" he said, cocking his head.

* * *

Horatio had been busy while Andrace was talking, finding a bottle of something in the kitchen before returning to his seat, complete with two glasses. He was pleased to see that the fire was already going - he'd never quite got the hang of fire magics, and starting the thing from paper and matches would have been a chore. By the time Andrace had returned to sit next to him, both glasses - wine glasses by the look of them, filled with some tawny liquid - were quite ready, and he held out a drink.
"You look like you're quite ready, yes." he said, smiling. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and his shades were set on the table.

"Everything went well, I hope? I don't mean to pry, of course. No secrets for me." he said, and a log popped on the fire. "Just wondering if everything went smoothly, I suppose."

"If you'll slow down a sec-!" Jeremiah sighed, adjusted his servant's uniform's collar, and set off again. "I don't know how you managed to lose it, I dropped you off right outside the thing." Mentally grumbling, the frog got back in the lead and led the way to Elyse's room. "Completely furnished with everything you should need, bathroom's over there, there's even a bed, now what's this about dead people?" He flopped into one of the cozy looking chairs in the room and steepled his fingers. "Sounds worth knowing."

"M' thanks, H'ratio," Andrace murmured as she took the offered drink and knocked it back in one long swallow. She gave a quiet little cough, her eyes bulged slightly, and all her claws unsheathed. The fox didn't think there was smoke curling out from between her clenched fangs, but he was fairly sure every visible hair on her body had started to curl.

"Wow," the lioness croaked hoarsely after a few seconds, "dunno what this is, but it's pretty good. Smooth. Nice delicate bouquet." She inspected the now empty glass with great respect, possibly looking for evidence of etching on the inside. Then she leaned forward, picked up the bottle, and refilled her glass.

"Nothing secret, H'ratio," she said — not entirely accurately — in reply to the fox's question. "B'sides, it's likely t' be all over th' news soon anyway. Some o' th' Pride just got back home from a job, clearin' out that lot o' bandits in the forest near Armansta. M' little brother Zach got himself chomped on a bit by some giant Mythos. Again. I swear, that boy's got th' worst luck when it comes t' monster critters. He's fine, though, m' sister Despina does some real good healin' spells."

The lioness grew steadily more talkative as she worked her way, more slowly this time, through her next few drinks. After the second, she started telling funny stories about her adventures with her brothers and sisters. Then she gradually switched to stories not suitable for the parents of young cubs. By the time the bottle was nearly empty, her eyes were a little brighter and her voice was a little slower and more deliberate, and Horatio had learned three things.

One, Andrace Kithara was a somewhat bloodthirsty wench, with what some might consider a dubious sense of humour.

Two, it was not a good idea to challenge a Kithara adventurer with the words, "I'll show you I've got guts".

Three, the lioness sitting opposite him was probably capable of drinking him under the table, and then lying on the floor without holding on.

'Like I said. Bodies. Piled in a room. Some of them seemed whole, others were not very much so. What, you want the specifics? Most of them seemed to be dressed in plain clothes or livery. I thought I saw a red coat. That do anything for you?' the bat replied with quite noticeable irritation, not only at being questioned so but also at him being able to find his way to her room with rather a lot fewer steps than she recalled having taken, but going in what she perceived to be the same direction. It was fairly clear by now that she should have gone with her first instincts and not have entered at all. Or at least have brought a whole lot of backup. The most irritating reminder that came with those concerns was that she didn't really have any backup to call on in the first place. Once again, her yellow-lit eyes turned around to the frog, and she eyed him with such scrutiny that he felt as if she had him down so exactly that she'd be able to have a suit tailored for him with his exact measurements over a phone call. Who knew? She might even have been able to actually do that.
   The frog was her backup.
   Assessing her situation, likely up against something utterly insane and in a castle which she obviously could not navigate, and with things this bad within an hour of arriving, and probably only about to get worse... and this thing for help, Elyse suddenly felt a twinging note of fear enter her mind.
   'I said that I will not be confined to this room!' she snapped, suddenly, and the door shut with a hard slam behind Jeremiah, apparently all by itself. Turning around, Elyse walked over to the bed, placing a hand and leaning on one of the bottom posts and glaring out a window. There was always that. She could probably smash her way out in a rather graceless exit, but was that even wise to do? There was that damnable uncertainty to exactly everything right now, and she could not get her head straight around it. And she was loath to wait things out, much less rest when she wasn't sure what might happen. Heaven forbid that she actually sleep - an old habit that she had not been able to completely shake - in that room when there was the risk of something sneaking up on her.
   'I have to know what is happening. I should not have come here, but now that I'm in I must know what is happening,' she said with a hardness to her voice. Then she glared back at Jeremiah.

Jeremiah returned her appraising look with a sort of lazy wariness in his eyes. She's sizing me up. Or she's a crazy person. Both are options.
"That," The frog replied dryly, his only regard for the slamming door being a slight wince, "Would make two of us." He stretched out in the chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyelids gently. He was at his coolest when he had to work with someone who was freaking out. He didn't know why, it was probably some spite-related motive. "Furthermore," he continued, ticking it off on his fingers, "Nobody mentioned confining you anywhere. After all, I need you to show me where this room was." After all, need some proof that you're not just on something more potent than I am.

The Kiet vixen raised an eyebrow as she was asked if she knew how to use it, if she did not before then now she did thanks to the flashes of insight from the shopkeeper.

"yes, yes I do."  Seizing that moment, she reached out and grabbed the gun, cleared the chamber, loaded the empty clip, cocked it and swung to face the door while depressing the trigger, "bang."

Pointing it downward, she secured the safety and ejected the magazine before placing it back on the table where it was grabbed from.

"I am aware of the maintenance, cleaning and loading of the... magazine, as well as safety and etiquette with firearms."  She said, watching each action in the badger's mind as she spoke it.  "I'll take it."  The vixen stated with a wry smile, "cleaning kit too."

The purchase took much of the sack of gold, but Kiet was not concerned, he had lots of petty cash around. 

"thank you very much for the this, it will be a very valuable tool.  I must bid you adieu, I have taken up enough of your time today.  Fair thee well."  Collecting the items, she gave a proper bow for a lady of station and exited through the same door she had entered.

Kiet slipped the ammo and spare clips into a small portable extra-dimensional space.  He was so curious in the power of the weapon, that he made his way out of the town to an unoccupied field.  The field was surrounded by a low evergreen forest and was up a small hill.

Slowly he loaded the clip bullet by bullet, until it was full.  When finally he finished, Kiet inserts the clip, pulls back the slide, and takes aim at a tree.  The ringtail releases the safety and pulls the trigger, hoping for something interesting...

 Time froze for a moment.

Snow swirled around Kiet as the hammer snapped forward, slamming into the back of the bullet and igniting a chain of events that would lead to the utter destruction of whatever was on the other end of that incredible piece of machinery. The top half of the gun slid back as the bullet fired, and an explosion lit the forest for just a fraction of a second. A deafening roar echoed through the trees as the bullet flew towards the trunk, and with the incredible force driving the shot, and the enchantment on the bullet, blew half of it clean off.

Kiet, however, having never fired a gun before, was unprepared for what was mildly put as tremendously ridiculous recoil. It was by no means beyond a Creature's capacity to use, if they were prepared for it. But Kiet only had a split-second to react before the back of the gun slammed into his forehead, and as he fell to the forest's snowy floor, everything went black.

In the distance, on top of a hill overlooking where the ringtail had tested out the firearm, something moved. Silver sparkled in the moonlight as the darkly dressed stranger walked away, towards the direction of the castle in the distance.

* * *

The more Horatio drank, the more he realized that if he tried to keep up with the Kithara adventurer, he'd probably end up passed out on the floor before she got weak in the knees. Unless he cheated, of course, but that seemed ungentlemanly.
He settled for a compromise. Vibrant and jocular as she was, she didn't notice that his glass stopped getting empty after awhile, although he would touch it to his lips now and again.

He'd heard worse stories from Brunhilda, but she definitely took the cake as far as dark irony was concerned. He, for one, hadn't known that brandy could be blessed like water, nor that vampires could be tricked into drinking it in a dinner engagement.
As she continued on, drinking, talking, making the fox both laugh (sometimes with incredulity and horror more than humor) and cringe (sometimes with genuine pity), he yet found himself listening less and less to what she was saying, and simply watching her talk. Perhaps it was the buzz - the stuff he'd gotten wasn't meant to be drunk by the glass - or perhaps it was the lioness, but when the conversation paused for a moment while Andrace took a breath and a drink, he set his glass down and leaned forward over the table, and without preamble kissed her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got a twisted sense of humor, Ms. Kithara?" he said, green eyes sparkling. "And that you are also, very, very beautiful."

* * *

LL snuggled further into her bed, drink in one hand, magazine in the other, and Walter sitting obediently by a chair at her side. She took another gulp off the highball and handed it to the waiting dragon, who sighed with feudal obedience and refilled it for her. It smoked for a moment before she brought it back to her lips, only draining some of it this time.
"I swear to god, Walter." she said, flipping a page of the magazine. "If it's not one damn thing it's another." she said. She paused and blinked a few times too, and then looked sharply to the side. Walter nodded obediently.
"Without question, madam." he said. The look on his face spoke of the longsuffering one sometimes heard of in great saints, and those who donate blood in their spare time.

"Where the hell is Melodie, anyway. I'm not that horrible to be around, am I?" she muttered under her breath. "You raise them from barely more than a hatchling, save them from a life of misery and distaste, and they run off to eat lemon scones when you're not looking. Don't think I don't know what she's doing!" she said sharply. She sighed again.

Draining the glass, she handed it to her waiting attendant. Another full glass was in her hand shortly. "I needed her though, Walter." she paused. "She's young, but she's not stupid. She might..."
She paused, and looked at Walter. She took a drink, and stopped speaking, looking again at her magazine. It appeared to be a ladies fashion magazine from a few centuries ago. The selection of bodices was eclectic, although tasteful. She suddenly started giggling.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe violet?" she said, holding the magazine up to Walter. He sniffed once.
"An adventuresome choice, madam." he said. "I would not recommend it."

"You're an old fogey, Walter, and you know it." she said. "I think I would look quite pretty in it, don't you?" she said. She smiled, something probably a product of the high stress and the disturbingly high alcohol content of her highball glass. Walter coughed.

"I think Madam would look pretty with whatever she chooses, madam." he said, looking aloof. She threw the magazine at him, snickering.
"Oh, get out. Fill the glass before you go", she said, putting it on the nightstand, and grabbing another periodical from the pile beside her. She snuggled in her dragon-motif pajamas, white cotton with little blue dragons flying happily around all over it. Walter filled the glass obediently, and with a thankful look to the heavens, left the room.

* * *

Hours passed.

At approximately 7:35 AM, the sun rose on the day of February the 2nd.

Tim lay in bed, early morning, semi-sleeping peacefully, and listening to the belltower ring the hours.

*bong-bong* one. *pause* *bong-bong* two. *pause* *bong-bong* three. *pause* *bong-bong* four. *pause* *bong-bong* five. *pause* *bong-bong* six. *pause* *bong-bong* seven. Probably time to get up. *bong-bong* eight? Already? *bong-bong* Nine? What the? *bong-bong* No. No, oh god, no. *bong-bong* She bounced out from under the covers, and searched frantically for the dressing gown. *bong-bong* Wrapping herself, she almost flew to the balcony doors, and threw them open, racing outside. *bong-bong*

Once outside, she could see across town, Rover, having woken up early, standing against the bell tower. With one claw poking into it, tapping on the bell. *bong-bong* He smiled happily, waiting for the ringing peal to fade before striking the bell a quick double-tap again. *bong-bong*

Tims' face fell. She put one paw to her forehead, and heaved a deep, heartfelt sigh.

"ROVER!" His head turned at her frantic cry, and he smiled at her, then pushed off the tower, accidentally ringing the bell one more time, as he spun and bounded back across town to the hotel. He dented the street out the front, and put both paws against the hotel in order to reach up and lick Tim. "Bell! Fun! he announced, in tones loud enough to wake the poor night guard at the front desk.

"Yes, Rover. Fun, but no more. Okay?" Plaintively.

"Awww. Okay."

"Good boy. Watch the box, okay?"

"Okay." Rover promptly dropped, turned, and padded back to the now somewhat worse for wear stables, whereupon he threw himself back down onto the pile of straw, and, slightly sulkily, started staring at the container.

Tim watched him settle down, then went back inside to get dressed, and then organised, for the day. After all, one needed to show up looking reasonably good, but one didn't need to wear the mask yet, did one?


... Surely not. And it'd take a crane, or a lot of luck, to get Rover into _his_ outfit without help...

Andrace opened one eye as the first rays of the sun came in through the window and across her face. She threw the blankets back, rolled out of bed, stood up and stretched. It was quite a production of a stretch, arching her back, rolling her neck and shoulders, and curling her tail into a tight loop. She yawned cavernously, displaying a mouthful of impressively large fangs. As she did, she happened to look up. And paused.

"Now, how did that happen?" she muttered. "Could've sworn it went thataway..." The lioness reached up. Nope. She stood on tip-toe, bouncing, stretching her arm up... not quite. She rummaged among the pile of clothes on a nearby chair, picked up her bra, jumped and took an overhand swipe. The pair of trousers hooked over the chandelier flew off, sailed towards the bed, and landed right on Horatio's muzzle.

For a split second, the power of the handheld artillery piece completely throttled all his senses and simultaneously triggered every pleasure center in his mind tied to big, violent , loud and ostentatious things.  This elation came to a sudden halt as the weapon connected with his forehead.  The explosion of stars and the sudden darkness of unconsciousness was somehow fitting accompaniment to the titanic weapon display.  

Still disguised as the countess, Kiet sprawled out on the ground in front of a tall tree.  The colossal weapons fire had scared off nearly every piece of hostile wildlife.

Inside his head the ringtail's dream, a first in many thousands of years, swirled as a mass of chaos.  This was possibly due to the head trauma, as rarely are such things born of a healthy mind.  The land was filled with red mist, images of an old dragoness, vicious lionesses, towering griffins, soldiers, bats, insectis and all manner of beings twirled about cackling like hags.  All bore masks of some type, except for him.  Something brushed his foot and the ringtail tentatively looked down and at his foot sat a solid white mask with a crack...


Sometime in the middle of the night...


Kiet, still appearing as a female fox noble, bolted to his footpaws.  The sudden movement caused his head to spin and the poor cubi was dreadfully dizzy with a spot of a leviathan sized headache.  His staggering was to the level of an Olympic event, especially considering that he held one of the most powerful firearms in his left hand.  To no one in particular the hyper feline chattered a staccato blast of words, "ohwowwowwowwhatanamazingweaponineverseenanythinglikeithowcoolisthat..."  Kiet took a breath, "cannotthinkwhatwouldbebetterheavenheaveniminheaven..." His face contorted in pain, "ohugherrruhnhmyheadowwwit hurtstheworldispinning..."  He shrugged it off, "igottagetbackandshowthistocami!"

He dizzily spun around and half made an attempt to run, but instead his head smacked into a low branch sending him off once again into the void of unconsciousness.  Let this be a lesson to you children, do not try to run through forests in the pitch blackness of night.


Somewhere around 7:05am...


Kiet groaned and tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy.  With the will of an eternal soldier, he cracked the ebony and crimson void, allowing a tiny bit of white to violate the nothingness.

Blinking multiple times, the ringtail was instantly pounced by the vicious kitten of agony as thousands of insectis began hammering in his head.  His hand gingerly fluttered to his forehead by way of his cheek and muzzle.  Just the briefest of touches sent tendrils of pain through his brain and his fingers came back bloodied.

He turned his head to the side and spied a small pool of blood next to it.  He was bleeding, had been all night and morning, that can't be good.

I probably have a concussion...  He looked at the magnificent firearm in his left hand, I remember firing this... wow its amazing... I got clobbered in the head because of the recoil... I woke up, ran into something... k, that's clear... but who am I?

The poor fellow looked at himself and found he was a she, but everytime he considered himself in his mind, there was a definite masculine pronouncement.

Wait, am I a lesbian then... er, no that's not what that... this means... I think...  Confused, he tried to sit up, but collapsed back as a wave of pain and dizziness assaulted him.  As he waited for it to pass, who he was and what he was doing slowly leaked back in.

Right, I'm Ink... er no, Kiet... cubi... shapechanger... disguised...

He slipped the gun into its "holster" and drew the vixen's trenchcoat around him.  After a few tries, he managed to get to the vixen's feet, and began staggering towards the town.  

After half an hour of staggering, first through woods, then through town and weathering the horrible clatter from the bell tower, he reached the hotel.

The vixen pushed open the doors, headed up the stairs and just before the door to his room, he resumed his normal appearance.  

He was greeted by a furious Camiole, who's anger quickly boiled away as the injured cubi staggered in, "by the gods Kiet!  What happened to you???!  Assassins?  Rivals?"

"gun recoil and then tree branch... but wow, this gun is amazing."

Camiole shook her head and sat him down in the chair, the other two attendants checked the door and windows just in case some assailant was lurking about.

The clouded leopard dressed the cut on his forehead and bandaged it, smacking his cheeks a bit to keep him awake.

Aten stifles a yarn. he'd broken into the library almost 2 hours ago and still hand not found what he was looking for. well perhaps broken in was a bit of a stretch because form some reason when he laid his hand on the door to test it for alarms it had swung open. even so the information he sought was proving to be a hard fine

For an uncomfortably long time, the bat stood there, just gazing out the window and thinking, inwardly posing the scenario to herself and making her decisions. Jeremiah's opinion clearly counted for little to her at the moment. There was silence, though naturally, before any sort of peace could settle, the frog's voices were there to bother.
   'It's too much with the seven of us in here,' she said, at last. She turned toward Jeremiah with a blank expression, and a firmness that was quite enough to make the amphibian feel as if pressed to the back of his chair. 'I'm going to ask you to leave. Return in the morning, by noon. Then, we'll talk.'
   Forced composure now having completely broken through whatever shreds of hesitation were left, Elyse seemed unnaturally still. Her mind was mostly on her bags, plainly within sight. She had come far from unprepared, after all. And she would simply have to hope that events didn't transpire so quickly that she were completely lost.

Jeremiah kept his cool, outwardly. Inwardly he was wondering what the HELL he'd gotten involved in, but outwardly aforementioned cool was completely kept. He stood up at attention, bowed once, and exited...

--

The frog didn't sleep well that night. Arguments with his personae faded into most troubling dreams...
Fire. People. People of fire, fire in their skulls. Questions? Panic! Bats and badgers. Fear! Things fading away. Fear. Fear...

--

Jeremiah woke up, stretched, and fell out of his hammock with an undignified "THWUD." He glanced at his watch. 7:32.
We are LATE. We can't afford to lose this job, sir!
Oh yes we can! Remember the bat-woman?
We don't know anything about that yet.
EXACTLY! We-
The frog shuffled his way to the kitchens. If he was lucky, the cook who liked him would let him flirt with her for coffee...

After Rynkura made it to her room in the night, perhaps rather early for it being after dinner, it wasn't too hard for her to find the motivation to fall asleep.  The Healer had mastered that old discipline long before she was even old enough to hold a sword; the one about an early sleep leading to an early rise.

She closed her door and simply sat there in the quiet and a soft lighting for a moment, in a more or less meditative state.  Her mind however was filled with all sorts of thoughts.  Perhaps a little bit of wonder as to what the Ball was about.  And the mystery of the invitations...sure, she was of a noble lineage, but over 900 years past so with no descendants.  Was a middle-aged-looking woman, head of a monastery, secretly an angel, worthy of the event?

I suppose it will all be figured out later.  And if not, who's to say I may not enjoy myself in the process? the white tiger thought as sleepiness crept across her mind and made its suggestions to dream about it.

Thus she did.

*     *     *

She awoke when the sun hit her eyes at half-past seven in the morning, in gentle streams through the window.  So, her dreams weren't that eventful, but they weren't in any way malicious either.  No decisive answers.

This would be the night, then, Rynkura hummed as she wasted no time, stepping out of the bed and got herself dressed, all the while keeping her eye on the views on the windowpane.  The room was large enough that she also practiced a few movements of exercise with her staff, parrying and thrusting through the air against an imaginary enemy.

After a few moments of training to awaken her focus, the Healer paused before the wardrobe where she stowed the dress and mask she chose for the evening, a mix of modern and classic style all in her favorite color of dark emerald.  She regarded it with only a thoughtful narrowing of the eyes before heading through the door and looking around, listening for any others awake as she leisurely walked downstairs.

What to have for breakfast then...?

 A sleepy little village like Damaske was normally just that - a sleepy little village. People rose early, and started slowly, walking to their places of work a few hours after dawn with warm drinks in hand, and wrapped snugly from head to toe.

Approximately ten bells into the morning, one might have observed more than a few residents openings doors in disbelief, and then at the early dawn light narrowing their eyes. At the thirteenth bell, a various chorus of slamming doors might have been heard from any streetcorner in town. The chorus of profanities, however, was mostly muttered under breath, and quite silently.

Things were off to a bad morning, but the day was still young. The town began to prepare itself for the day, and before long, the first of the carriages had arrived in front of the hotel, the drivers drinking alternatively from flasks at their hips, and from steaming mugs at their side.

* * *

Horatio's eyes snapped open, and quickly crossed to look down and find a pair of slacks hanging from his nose. He paused for a moment, as if trying to recall where he was, when he saw Andrace getting herself dressed. He blinked, and grinned to himself, and with only a bit of a groan got up himself. He started hopping into the pants.
"Good morning." he said, smiling.

He plucked his shirt from the overhead fan. "I didn't hear an alarm go off. Do you g-"

At that moment, the belltower began to ring out the time. He paused, and continued on. "I suppose I'm not surprised, but I take it you are a morning person, Ms-....Andrace." he said. He rubbed the back of his head, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, it's habit."

As the belltower started ringing past nine and ten, however, he began to pause, looking out the window oddly, and when it passed twelve and into thirteen he shook his head and snorted. He headed for the kitchen, intending on seeing if the fridges were stocked with any sort of breakfasting food.

It was about ten minutes later, when he was making pancakes with batter he found in the back of one of the cabinets, that the door fairly reverberated with three precise knocks.

* * *

The servants quarters were fairly alive with hustle and bustle, as they were every morning - Jeremiah certainly couldn't see anything out of place, and the bat's story from last night seemed practically impossible. It was routine - or at least as close as it got to routine on a day like this. Panic was in the air, but as he could smell, so was coffee.

Sharon was a horned toad that lifted weights in her spare time, and was generally quiet and unobtrusive to most everyone that met her. She'd given Jeremiah a cup of coffee, once, and like a salesman with his foot in the door, that was all that it took.

Andrace fastened the tail-fly on her trousers, turned and looked at Horatio with her hands on her hips and a mock-stern expression. "An' I s'pose y're th' sort o' layabout that likes t' stay in bed an extra ten minutes after dawn? Takes work t' keep in condition like this, y' know." She struck a pose and tensed her body, making every muscle — and a few scars in interesting places — stand out clearly. The lioness sniffed disdainfully as Horatio finally got out of bed. She picked up her bra and shirt and headed for the bathroom.

"I got three lazy little sisters, r'member," Andrace's voice came from the bathroom accompanied by various washing and fang-brushing noises, "so I know all th' tricks. Ah... is that belltower runnin' a bit fast? Eugenia was th' worst, but even she got it int' her thick skull in th' end... after I picked her up an' tossed her out o' th' bedroom window. 'Course, it only worked th' once, th' second time 'Genie enjoyed fallin' thirty feet, bouncin' off th' sun canopy, an' landin' in th' swimmin' pool. So, th' next time, I drained th' pool... an' held on t' her tail when I dropped her."

The smell of pancakes finally brought Andrace out of the bathroom, fully dressed apart from her leather jerkin, with a small bundle wrapped in a towel in her hand. "Mmm, that smells good. Just have a quick bite now, an' then — place as fancy as this has t' have a big fancy gym — I'll have m' mornin' workout there, an' see 'bout catchin' some breakfast after..." The lioness suddenly stopped, her ears erect and pointing towards the door. She tensed, and although she appeared completely unarmed, there had to be a weapon of some kind very close to her right hand. Her eyes narrowed as someone knocked on the door. She glanced at Horatio and whispered, "Were y' expectin' an early call?"

Mel sat in the living area of her grandmother's suite, casting nervous glances towards the bedroom door. The enthusiastic bellringer had her awake early and she had decided to get the lecture that was waiting for her done quickly. So here she was left sitting, smoothing and resmoothing the skirt of her sensible cranberry wool morning dress and sniffing the interesting smells coming from the dining area where Walter was supervising breakfast being laid out. As she looked longingly at the array of food she hoped that her grandmother would decide that her instructions on the proper behavior of young dragons would be given at the table. And that grandmother wouldn't take too long getting ready for the day.

The morning was cool and snowbound, the train rumbling along the tracks, northbound for the town of Damaske. Cottony mist hung over snow-covered farmland and plains, pierced by the twinkling orange rays that splayed out from the horizon. Winter mornings here had a distinct beauty to them, even without the beautiful flowers and trees that might normally accompany them. Esme was in a foul mood. She was alone in her room, one of the few remaining passengers on the train, staring out the window but comprehending little of it. Her mind was still fixated on the events of the past few days. Prior to her departure and reception she had made sure to inspect the main medical stations in the Belgaen capital, and had left respectable junior officers in charge. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a niggling doubt in her mind with regards to the status of her responsibilities. The day, like most days in Belgae now, had its passing dramas, and she had been there to provide support to those who needed it. By the time she had boarded her train, she was practically asleep on her feet from fatigue. As if to add insult to injury, the locomotive had promptly broken down just a few minutes into her trip. The engineers had told the passengers that they lacked the parts for an immediate fix, and that they could still walk back to the station for a refund. Esme had decided to sleep through it anyways. After the ordeals of the revolution, she had needed rest. And so now the train was a day late, much to Esme's dismay. Although she lacked any prestige (which continually baffled her regarding her invitation) she was not particularly keen on being late to a ball as renowned as the Scarlet Masque.

Now, Esme was reviewing medical charts and statistics, smoothing out her coat. It was a compulsive tick, there to pass the time if nothing else. The mist outside was beginning to dissipate, giving way to the brilliant sunlight that now glared through the window, the polished brass buttons of her double-breasted coat gleaming and twinkling. She was a thinly built lynx, clad in a simple black frock-coat and similar pants, thin square spectacles hanging off of her face. Her black hair was cut short and manageable, forming a neat crown over her head and matching her grey and black fur nicely. The graphs and tables themselves, laid out messily before her, were a foreboding reminder of where she would return after the fun and merriment. There were thousands of casualties in the capital alone, both of the famine and the war, and supplies were rapidly dwindling. It wouldn't be long before there were no healers left to help, and no people left to heal. The revolution was going to chew them all up, bit by bit, and spit them out messily, with nothing recognizable left in the entire nation. It was a grim, sobering thought.

Esme was snapped out of her dark train of thought by the squeal of brakes. The conductor announced their arrival, and Esme stood to her feet with a groan, beginning to pack her papers and other such things into a small leather bag. It was good to stand and walk again. Stretching, she tossed the now full bag over her shoulder with one hand, grasping a suitcase quite firmly in the other, and made her way to the doors as the train came to a final stop. Her breath formed into an opaque mist as she stepped onto the platform, reminding her of the season. The cold was bitter, snapping at her bones and blood with its chill bite. Esme cast her gaze about her, looking for a waiting transport or escort.

It had been quite some time since Kiet had considered sleeping, but due to his recent head trauma, he felt very tired.  Camiole did not seem to want him to do that, she kept shaking and proding him everytime she caught him trying to nod off.  Kiet knew it wasn't a good idea either, but something in his injured head didn't care.

Cami shoved a steaming cup of extremely black coffee into Kiet's hand and tapped her foot as her tail whipped back and forth.  Begrudgingly he sipped at it, the strength was immense, and its special blend woke him up for sure.  The coffee, however made his head throb more.

"now pay attention Kiet, guests are expected to show up at noon, where there will be a wine and cheese reception with an art show until around Five in the evening.  At Five the guests are expected to begin changing for the ball, and at Six the ball will start.  The reception is optional, and you may want to skip it."  Camiole stated as she reviewed the day's itinerary.

"I dunno, I think it would be smashing to mingle a bit."  The ringtail replied as he struggled to finish off the concentrated ichor of the coffee bean.

The youngest of the three retainers, a raccoon incubus of reverse coloration (black fur, grey stripes and mask), approached.  "I am ready to mend his wound, but I cannot heal the trauma inside.  Such magic is difficult and I did not come prepared for such.  Hold still master Kiet."

"Jayce, I appreciate this, but the last time you tried healing, my spleen ruptured..."  Kiet murmured.

Cami patted him on the shoulder and affirmed, "he has gotten much better since then, plus we were able to fix you back up then."

Despite his misgivings, the healing went well and the gash was gone, he still felt foggy headed and dizzy at times, but with time and care he would heal.

 As Kiet tried to numb the pain gently throbbing in his skull, he heard the door knock, and someone from his retinue rose to go see who it was. Moments later one of the hotel staff was let into the room, making a short bow to the ringtail.
"Ah, delivery for you, sir." he said, nodding shortly. "One of the cab drivers dropped it off here. Said that a man in black told him to take it to a Kiet Ti'Pallo."

The man set an ice pack down next to he Cubi, and excused himself.

* * *

The station was mostly deserted, and except for the few of her fellow passengers on board, Esme found herself quite alone. A fine, light snow was falling, and compared with the only moderate warmth of the train, the outside air was absolutely freezing.

She didn't spot any kind of motorized transportation, but from where she was standing, she could see the castle from far in the distance. Two rickshaws were at the station currently, but they seemed to be nearly leaving, as though they had somewhere else to be.

* * *

Horatio looking at the door with an half-bemused expression, and without removing the pancake from the pan cut off a bit from his fork and stuck it in his mouth. He shook his head.
"Ah...yes. I suppose I was." he said, clearly not saying as much as he could. He put the rest of the pancakes on a plate and up on the counter for Andrace, and started to button his shirt. "My supervisor." he said, collecting his coat, and briefly trying to make himself look presentable. A few fluffs later, a bit of slicking his hair, and he looked terrible, like he hadn't had a shower yet and needed a change of clothes.

"At least she knocked! Sometimes the door can't handle it, though..."

The door reverberated again, three more knocks this time. "I can hear you in there, you bastard! Get out here!"
Horatio sighed, putting his sunglasses on. The effect was somewhat lost without his generally sharp look, making him look more ridiculous than intimidating. He muttered under his breath, fastening his cuff links.

"I had a very nice time, Ms...Andrace." he said, suppressing a smile. "I think I'm about to be reassigned, however. Hopefully I'll see you later tonight, the entire entourage will be at the ball."
He walked up quickly to the door, and put his hand on the chain lock - and waved goodbye to Andrace. He slid the lock open, undid the deadbolt, and opened the door.

A dragoness about a head and a half shorter than Horatio was fuming on the other side, chomping on an unlit cigar. Although she was shorter than the fox, she was also built - the sort of person that gave the impression of being as wide as they were tall. She had a massive pair of...sunglasses, as well - if Andrace wasn't mistaken, set with Rhinestones also. They seemed to be oversized for her.
"Where the hell have you been!" she shouted, poking the fox in the chest. The cigar compressed in her mouth.

"Well, Brunhilda, I was doing as the mistress ordered. Watching the..."
Brunhilda spat, thankfully on a spot of carpet not inside her room. "Oh, sneaky bastard! You never reported in, you fuck, the mistress was this close to hearing about it." She grabbed his tie, pulling him out of the apartment, whilst somehow simultaneously kicking his shins.

Then, the door slammed.

* * *

To her surprise, grandmother seemed ready for the day rather early. She wasn't in her formal gown yet, which surprised the younger dragon - generally grandma liked to wear fancier garb at any excuse, although she would balk at the suggestion of vanity.

"Mel! I'm delighted you could join us." she said, with only a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Her demeanor bespoke more anger than in her tone, however, her eyes passing over the younger dragon briefly before heading for the dining room. "I'll have you know I had a lovely time without you."

The dining room was very plain, a small, rectangular table covered in a white cloth, and laid out with a few light dishes. Sliced ham, a cheese plate, some yogurt, a nice selection of slaty quartz, and a bowl of fruit seemed to be breakfast for the morning.

The night did not pass quickly for Elyse. Even after having set up icons and warding spells, she found it very hard to feel safe. And while the amount of focus she often exercised put a strain on her that she knew that only real and deep sleep could relieve, meaning she had not given up that habit anywhere near as completely as many Cubi, she had serious trouble closing her eyes, much less summoning any feeling of restfulness. Thus, come the next morning, she found herself still half-dressed among the sheets, hair caught in one of her piercings and her neck stiff.
  Even though she did not need to, and was going to shapeshift herself into order later, the bat still took a bath, once she managed to pry herself from the bed and re-organize her jewelry. It was still early in the morning, and she did not have to worry about breakfast, after all. She wasn't going to stay there until noon though, but soon got out, dressed herself in something loose and unrestrictive, and sat down on the bed yet again. She took a few moments to simply lie down and stretch, the sheets and her clothes, all creamy white, almost blending together.
  When at last she felt a little more relaxed, Elyse grabbed the book that had lied next to her all the night, flipping open a page and starting a verse. Murmuring the long since memorized words low, their passing and the text soon floating away, her mind shifted and stretched and moved, her focus deepening and hardening. By themselves, the curtains shut, and a candle lit up on the nightstand table.
   By noon, she would be as ready as she could be.

Andrace waved and smiled back at the fox as he was hauled ignominously out of her room. "See y' later, H'ratio, an' thanks..." she called. The last Horatio saw of the lioness before the door slammed was her slow, sensual wink.Then, safely alone, she sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed. That dragon was so like Aunt Jocasta, apart from the lack of fur the resemblance was uncanny.

She was still snickering a few minutes later when she left the room, holding her towel-wrapped bundle and munching on one last pancake. She locked the door and walked downstairs to the front desk to enquire about the hotel's gym. Ten minutes later she was there, stripped down to a plain green leotard and beginning an energetic workout routine. As she went through the motions of hefting weights about, though, she was thinking about very different things.

Right... Kiet ti' Paollo... first things first, what does he look like? Is he here in th' hotel, or up at th' castle already? Can I get a good look without him seein' me? Bound t' have brought a retinue along. How many? Any of 'em I can safely... lean on f'r a bit more information? Any of 'em I might need t' work around? The other option, of having to go through someone else to reach her target, was not a choice Andrace liked to contemplate. The Family was contracted several times a year to deal with rogue Creatures, and a reputation for casualties among bystanders would knock the bottom right out of that very dangerous, but very lucrative market.

She glanced at the bracelet she still wore on her right wrist. Hopefully that was working as advertised, otherwise anyone with the skill and the curiosity would discover she was planning to kill a very old, very dangerous, and probably very wily 'Cubi. The little surprise her sister Despina had told her about in the phone call last night should help equalise things, but she was under no illusions this would be an easy job. She'd settle for "surviveable".

Mel cringed a bit inside as her grandmother whisked past. Grandma had perfected that tone of voice that could make anyone feel like a naughty 5,000 year old. Who would have thought that you could feel guilty for going to bed early?

She trailed the elder dragon into the dining area, giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek by way of apology. Knowing her grandmother's sweet tooth Mel managed to push the quartz next to her grandmother's plate.

After a few minutes of silent eating Mel asked, "Have you decided what you will be wearing to the art show?"

With a couple of books under his arm Aten left the library. he need to think about what he'd found. what more he needed to find either that wolf or the dragoness from last night. they would be able to tell him about the connection between the goddess the castle and his family line.

 Her chanting went undisturbed for a great long while, Elyse meditating silently in the light of the candle and the light filtering out from behind the thick curtains. In her focused state, she nearly missed the card set a chair by the stone fireplace, standing vertically and slightly open. Her name was written carefully in scarlet script on the front.
She wasn't sure if it was there when she woke up or not. No one, however, had been inside the room since the frog left.

* * *

LL sniffed, and taking a bite of cheese, picked up the slab of quartz, nibbling a bit off the corner. She made a crunching sound for a few moments, before setting the amber-gold pad of fine crystals back on the plate.
"I was thinking...violet..." she said, looking at Mel from the corner of her eye.

* * *

Back in the hotel, Aten didn't see any sign of the dragoness or the wolf, although the early risers amongst the aristocratic elite were out and about. Breakfast was being served buffet-style, and people were milling about with plates of eggs and bacon and fruit, both in the lounge area and in the restaurant proper.

Aten's stomach protested loudly telling him that he needed o fill it and despite the urgency he felt to find the wolf and dragoness he  soon found himself in line filling a pate with breakfast. hopefully he's see someone that could help him here if not he'd eat and resume searching.

Jayce sighed heavily and pushed the ice pack away, "I can't really tell who sent this, the readings are unclear."

The ringtail twittered his nose, "I was afraid of that, someone must have seen the countess fire off the hand cannon... but I don't know how they would have known it was me."  He gripped his head, "arrgh it hurts..."  A sudden thought dawned on him through the throb of pain, "maybe I was seen when I transformed, and recognized later on."

Camiole waved her finger in front of Kiet's nose, "sloppy, now someone knows and they sent this to let us know that they know.  They will probably try to leverage this..."

"pshaw, no one even remembers Vixana in this part of the world.  Whom ever sent this was just trying to be funny, or genuinely helpful."  Kiet commented as he waved off Camiole, "so does anyone want to order some room service and enjoy local cuisine?"

The three retainers nodded.

Jeremiah strolled down the hall, deftly weaving past panicky servants rushing back and forth. Sure, he'd been accosted by a woman claiming this castle contained a room of bodies just the prior evening, but it was morning now and he was humming some old Eurythmics song. Nothing bad happened while humming Eurythmics songs. Just common sense. Cheerfully ignoring the parts of his brain that simply wouldn't let themselves get on with things and leave the distant past of last night in the past, the frog followed his nose to the kitchens.
"Sharon!" He leaned around the door, the look on his face expressing quite clearly that, at this very second, there was nobody in this world he considered more worth his complete attention and interest. "Gooood morning! You look wonderful, doing something new with your hair?" He was shameless, yes, but most addicts were.

Andrace paused as she added a couple of extra twenty-pound weights to an exercise machine. Now she remembered what had been niggling at the back of her mind since the phone call last night. I sent Eugenia up t' Great-Aunt Kalliroe's room 'cause it really is her turn t' give her th' news officially, she thought, but I forgot she's been hiding from Auntie since that... ah... little little accident with her favourite painting the day b'fore I left. Hoo boy, 'Genie's gonna get The Look for sure...

Andrace had to admit she liked the ancient painting as well, although the title, "Matriarch Jacinta Welcomes The Adventurer Vixana Reynada To Mytilene" was a bit of a mouthful. As a cub, Andrace had thought it funny to see such a skinny little vixen standing next to her great-great-great-etcetera-grandmother. According to the Family archives, the old lioness had been over seventy at the time, with white hair and a lot of grey in her fur, but she still towered head and shoulders over her just-beginning-to-be-famous visitor.

She hoped the painting, which dated back to the early days of the Family as a force to be reckoned with in adventuring, hadn't been too difficult to clean. It had just been bad luck when Andrace's youngest sister threw a sticky bun at one of her brothers: it had bounced off his head, sailed across the main hall, and left a splatter of icing and jam right in the middle of Lady Reynada's distinctive profile.

Esme shivered visibly, eyeing the lack of ready transportation, her usual winter gear proving to be quite inadequate. The wind picked up and sawed at her ears, its winter chill biting through her cloth and deep into her bones.  A white flurry of snow swirled in eddies and waves, falling to the ground as a light blanket. She licked her lips, promptly wishing she hadn't as the bitter cold froze the moisture there, bringing hot tears of pain to her eyes. Extending her hands, she made a strange arcane gesture, uttering imperceptible words of power, and a corona of light played about her hands. There was a brief flash, and the wind and cold seemed to recede, providing a temporary respite from her miseries.

The urgency and excitement she had felt earlier at the prospect of leaving her job for a real chance at doing some good began to rapidly wane. She already missed the grateful filthy faces of both soldiers and famine victims alike, and the satisfaction of personal interaction with those she provided aid to.  More so, however, she felt that she had abandoned her duty.  She knew from experience that the amount of victims coming in from border skirmishes and light clashes would seem like a trickle compared to the endless tide of men and women that would arrive on the eve of full-scale warfare, and the Medical Corps wasn't even at full staff as it was. Already she could hear the endless screaming that filled the triage centers and smell the metallic tang of burnt flesh and blood. Esme blinked, and the illusion fled, leaving her alone on the train platform. The faint silhouette of a castle rose up in the distance. Her thick leather boots crunching with each step, she began her trek towards her destination.

Rynkura had the day nearly planned out as she approached the dining area, taking her time.  The party definitely wasn't until later, and they'd probably let everyone know when to be at the castle for it, and what was happening.  Breakfast might be followed by a time of meditation, or a time of training...maybe a little while in the library.

Yes, the library...certainly there ought to be some interesting information about this place to fill her head up on before indulging in anything else.

In fact, as she was headed in line at the buffet--filling a plate with pancakes, eggs, and sausage--she spotted a tabby-colored feline nearby who also also seemed, according to the energy she picked up, demonic in nature.  He was also carrying a couple of books along with his plate.  Bit of an armful, she thought.

The tigress swished her tail in thought as she took her plate, holding her staff in the crook of her right arm.  "Pardon, good sir," she inquired of Aten before he left, eyebrow raising.  "But, perchance, in which direction did you find those books?  I also must say you look as if you're about to drop one."

Aten was shocked and very nearly did drop a books and food. After some shuffling in an less then graceful manner he manages to balance his load thought it required him to place a couple of thinner books in his muzzle. looking for the source of the the hail. spotting Rynkura who's name he had yet to learn he gestured nodding towards and empty table that he proceeded to head to. one there hoping she would follow he set done his breakfast followed by the books including the two in his muzzle.  he turned. this was the moment of truth did she follow or was he wrong and on top to that beneath her notice?

Rynkura tilted her head slightly at the feline's mannerisms.  He didn't offer her a quick answer, nor asked for any help in handling his books, but instead headed toward the empty table after rather hurriedly picking things up.  Shrugging to herself, she followed.  From the way the youngster acted, he seemed to have also been looking for someone to just talk to.

She preferred to have a seat to herself, but this one was slightly curious, so she indulged and put her plate down on the other side of the table.  "You know, normally one answers a question before inviting one to sit down," she said in a neutral, certainly mentor-like tone and proceeded to slice her pancakes.  "They introduce themselves too.  Unless you are mute, in which case I could look for the library myself."

As her grandmother mentioned a violet outfit Mel noticed Walter, who was approaching with the tea cart, twitch. A subtle gesture, like everything about the man, but a definite moue of distaste. The violet dress must be interesting.

"I am sure that it is lovely. I have never seen you anything but perfectly dressed." She accepted a teacup from Walter as she asked, "Do you think my ice blue cocktail dress is suitable for the art show?" Appealing to Grandmother's decision making skills was generally a good way to put her in a better mood.

Aten was mildly surprised that she was still here but not unpleasantly so. "i do apologize but you caught me at an awkward time. Also if these books are of interest to you then i believe that your have been invited to this town to take part in the masked ball." he said.  " i am called Atem" he said with a slight bow  as opposed to and offered hand shake that he would have do were she male. "how shall i call you Madam?"

Heh, so he's not mute.

Rynkura returned the polite gesture between bites of her food, nodding towards the feline and also extending her hand for him to either shake or grip, whatever he liked.  "A pleasure to meet you, young Atem.  I'm Rynkura Msh'taan, a Healer by trade and swordswoman by profession."

She regarded him with very little curiosity as she continued her meal, staff laid gently over her lap.  "And you'd be corrrect, I was invited to the Masked Ball...I suppose then you were too.  Judging by those books, though, I think that you and I may be the only ones interested in the history before thinking of the event.  Unless I'm mistaken...?"

The tigress chuckled.  "In any case, all I really require is where you found those books.  I haven't seen this whole place yet myself, and I didn't even know that hotels had libraries."

Tim wandered back inside, and absently wiped the drool off her face, before heading in to the bathroom to have a quick wash.

Fifteen minutes later, she was washed, brushed, and dressed for the day - not dressed up, just in her travelling clothes - and heading down to find something to eat. Taking advantage of the wide staircases, she glided down the levels to each landing, pausing at each to ensure the clear airspace for the next swoop. Walking down the final set of stairs to the lobby, she shook her wings into place, and sauntered into the restaurant area for a quick meal.

Piling a plate high, she glanced around, located an empty table, and sauntered over to it to eat, seating herself neatly, and swinging her wings out of the way.

Having assuaged the immediate pangs of hunger, she glanced round the room, admiring the scenery, whilst she finished that plateful, then went to get another. After which, she intended to head on out to take care of Rover.

It wasn't until after a couple of hours of focus and meditation that Elyse looked up, eyelids clingy under her frown from her concentration, her vision blurry for a while. The white square on the chair across the floor was small, and her back had been turned toward it before, but as she emerged from her introverted state and took in the impressions of the world without again with burning brightness and clarity, that artfully labeled piece of paper stood out so much that it immediately became the focal point of her attention, so much that she had to remember to restrain herself for fear that in her state of mental sharpness she might shatter the frail thing or set fire to it unintentionally. She could not shake the distress that it brought her though, though she tried to bite down as hard as she could on the anger. She thought it impossible that someone might have been in her room during the night; had anyone been, not only should they have been restrained but she should have been alerted and woken up ready to act in the blink of an eye. So how then was it that this disturbingly tidy and inconspicuous little letter sat right there, in plain sight?
  Normally, she would have examined the envelope directly by thought and then had it fly over to her, but touching it with her mind like that might still singe it, and even that could be a trap. Instead, she got off the bed with practiced, smooth movements. Her muscles tensed and relaxed on their own during her meditation, a natural habit for her, but it was impossible to sit still like that for so long without one's joints stiffening a little, so her movements were a bit unnatural as she stretched and rolled them while she moved over the floor, taking her time to try and purge her irritation as well.
  Standing over the letter at last, she looked at it for a long while, just thinking. Then, carefully, she raised her hand a bit, opening her palm toward the thing, golden-ringed fingers spreading. A heartbeat of a second later, dim sunlight-colored glyphs and patterns appeared in the air around them, a diagram-like structure flickering and shifting for a few instants, before fizzing out like a light bulb turned off. Elyse sighed.
  It was just a letter. Still, she held it pinched between just a pair of lacquer-clawed fingers as if it might bite her, as she carefully opened and read it.

Aten was instantly on guard. He knew it was silly and that not everyone was out to get him but still being invited to this ball put him on edge. He briefly wondered if she miss heard him or was baiting him. "the pleasure is mine Madam  Msh'taan. Though i think you miss heard me i said i am called Atem."  his books placed the the side he began to devour his breakfast as well. So she was a guest to this event?  that was expected. she wanted the library? well he could help her with that having recently left it. she recognized the nature of the books he'd 'borrowed' meaning that she may be interested in reading them as well. taken a moment to  put his food aside he asks " i was wondering have you been to the ball before?"

: Edited for the sake of explaining paranoia and making eyes that read it bleed less

 Oliver Yarborough was not pleased.

He was staring at his stables. A nonplussed, bored expression covered his face as he slowly tilted his head to the side, and slowly tilted it back. He did this several times, before his face broke into a scowl, and he threw the pitchfork he'd been carrying at the ground. It clattered dully a few times as he stormed off, headed for the back entrance to the hotel.

* * *

LL didn't say anything immediately, but Mel noticed a certain small smile creeping up her face as she sipped her tea. By the time she set it back down she'd composed herself again, but it appeared that her bad mood had passed. There was a lightness around her eyes, and she took another crunch of the shistose quartzite before passing it back to Mel.
"You do look pretty in it." she said, sniffing. "It should be very suitable. Just be sure to bring the formal with you, getting back to the hotel will be impractical this evening. Roads will be murder.", she said.

She was silent for a bit, munching on a few things here and there. Mel noticed LL was staring at her - almost past her, really. It was a moment before her eyes seemed to snap back to reality, and the elder dragon regarded her carefully.
"Melodie...I...might bring a bauble or two with you." she said, quickly looking down at a jam-covered scone. "You do have such interesting designs. Did you have anything in mind?"

* * *

As Atem spoke, his copy of "The Complete History of Dragons, Vol. 466, Part II. (Abridged)", by Billingsly Topaz, fell onto the floor. Atem had to keep from dropping his plate - the chaper head was titled very simply, "LL", with a drawing of the same beneath it.

* * *

Tim had finished her breakfast and was just about ready to walk outside, when she spotted the tiger from before, Ray, approaching her with something of a painful expression on his face. He stopped a bit short of her, and with his hands together made a very small bow.
"I'm...ah. Good morning, ma'am." he said, forcing a smile. "Tim, correct?"

* * *
  Jeremiah, of course, hadn't noticed anything about Sharon's hair. It was the frog's luck that, in fact, she'd just tried out keeping it in braids, and flushed a bright crimson when he said so. She was a shy girl, and although she was strong enough to lift an ox, she still looked away and smiled.

"Maybe." she said, and pulled the coffepot from its holder beside her, setting it in front of Jeremiah. A mug followed after, and then she continued to chop potatoes.

* * *
The concierge looked forlornly at the phone. It was that inane Cubi's room, the one who'd nearly tried to kill everyone in the piano bar last night. He sighed, wishing that he lived somewhere warmer and farther away, and picked up the phone.
"Room service." he said, somehow forcing out enthusiasm.

* * *

Esme found that it was going to be a long hike. The Castle, by virtue of being as large as it was, seemed closer than it really was to the town. What seemed like a fifteen minute trek was turning into thirty minutes in the ice and snow. Her feet were getting a bit numb when she heard something with wheels rolling through the snow behind her.

"Bit early for a nature walk, isn't it?" the driver said, slowing the horses down to a crawl. It looked to be some sort of fox, brown and sandy colored. He looked at Esme for a bit, then patted the seat beside him. "You're already halfway there, hop on. I'm headed there anyway."

* * *
"Hi." it read.

Oh, it was written in absurdly complicated calligraphy, with blood-red ink and filigree about the blank page, but that was it - no, not entirely. The back of the card had a little crude doodle - two ears, a muzzle and two eyeballs with the pupils juxtaposed in the stereotypically crazy fashion. A few swirls of ink were supposed to represent a foaming mouth, she supposed.

She looked up, and there were bars on the window.

She looked to the side, and the door was gone. Moved, rather, to the side of the room. She could see lights flickering under the crack in the door as well.
Past the bars on the window, nothing had changed. The snow continued falling, and a few stray travelers here and there were attempting to beat the rush and get to the castle early.

She felt something drip onto her hair. A stain on the ceiling had formed, and judging by the bright crimson the drops turned the sheets, it wasn't water.

Rover heard the clang of the pitchfork, and poked his head curiously over the top of the stables. He watched Oliver stalk away with a slightly confused look on his face, then padded over and picked up the pitchfork, returning to his place behind the stables.

* * *

Tim raised her eyebrows at the tiger, then paused at the look on his face. "Yes, I'm Tim. Er, is this about the bell tower? I'm very sorry about that, if I'd realised he'd go looking I'd have stopped him sooner..."

She trailed off, studying his face. "This isn't about the bell tower, is it. He's done something else, hasn't he." A world-weary expression passed over her face, and she winced, and ran one paw over her face. With her eyes still closed, she waved her other paw in a circular motion at Ray, indicating he should go on. In a pained tone, she said "Let me have it. What now?"

Rynkura had to keep from quirking an eyebrow, if only to annoy her breakfast companion further.  Being trained in the art--and it was an art, for those who knew how to present it--of keeping a cool head, she certainly noticed his suddenness in bringing his guard up.  The tigress wondered just what had him so on edge...she knew she was a little intimidating, but to warrant suspicion immediately?  Seemingly a nearly-old Healer with a staff?

She did however chuckle.  "And if you'll remember, I did refer to you by Atem.  My hearing isn't at all diminished, child.  Ah, but you may hear what you wish," she said with a dismissive hand wave as she went back to her pancakes.  "I've studied many a different language of the regions, and in all of them sometimes the exact same sounds of those exact letters can be confused."  She smiled lightly, in a friendly way.  "So worry not.  And no, I'm afraid I haven't been to the Ball before...in fact this is the first time I've ever been invited to such a thing in many years.  So, I too wonder what's in store."

Her eyes looked almost glazed over, as if she was remembering something.  But at that moment, she heard a "thump" as one of Atem's books fell to the floor.  Glancing there, she noticed just barely what the book had opened to.

LL, huh?  Heh, what a legend of a dragon.  Makes me wonder if she is here too, Rynkura thought, her ears set back to her head for just one small moment, before she looked back to the feline with a shake of her head.  It looked as if she wasn't as concerned as he'd be...and certainly she wasn't.  "I told you that you looked like your arms were too full of books.  Here, I'll fetch that for you."

It was cold. Bitterly so. In one carriage of the train, the hooded figure sat quietly, the only thing that gave away movement was the mist that floated from beneath the hood every so often. Beside the stranger sat a bag made of a dull grey material, the contents unknown. The carriage was silent. Only the sound of the train's wheels on the track below could be heard.

Eventually, the train began to slow as it neared the station, the sound of the train's brakes ringing out as it did so. Rising to his feet, the figure made his way to the door, opening it and stepping out onto the station once the train had stopped. Exiting the station, the hooded stranger then stepped out onto the street beyond, before reaching into his brown hooded cloak and removing a letter from within it.

Reading the letter, the figure raised an eyebrow under his hood, before putting it away again.
"Well...this should be interesting..." the figure muttered to himself in a gruff voice, looking up at the heavily clouded grey sky above, before beginning to walk down the road.

Before long, what had been a normal walk had turned into a trudge through heavy snow. Growling softly to himself in annoyance, the hooded figure glanced over his shoulder, seeing the trench in the snow that marked when he had walked, or rather trudged. Sighing softly to himself, the stranger continued onwards.

After what seemed an eternity, a building appeared in the distance; the hotel in which he would be resting for now. When he arrived, the stranger looked down and noticed a slight crater in the ground; almost as if a larger hole had been there sometime before. Choosing to ignore this, the figure entered the hotel.

"I would like to book a room please." the figure said as he approached the hotel's reception desk. Looking up at him, the feline female behind the desk smiled, almost forcingly as one would expect, as it was just past dawn.

"Certainly sir. We do have a few rooms available. What type of room would you like?" The feline replied, jotting the details down in the log book on her desk. "And who shall I put the room in the name of?"

"A single room will be fine." the stranger replied, before removing the hood on the cloak from his head, revealing the white-furred lupine features beneath and taking the room keys. "Gareeku Manoko".

Having left his bag of formal attire on the bed, Gareeku then headed back downstairs to the restaurant. His stomach rumbling had given away the fact that the wolf had not eaten in a while having slept on the train, and so after he entered the restaurant, the lupine warrior ordered himself a hearty fried breakfast.

((OOC: The post would have been better, had my computer not decided to close all my windows just as I was about to post the original version, forcing me to rewrite the whole bloody thing. Sorry.))

"It's lovely," He said earnestly, the actual difference in her appearance registering a few seconds after the words were out of his mouth, and being completely cast from his thoughts as the coffee was placed in view. He poured himself a cup and finished it in a few gulps, casting a genuinely grateful glance at the girl as he set the cup aside. "Now then, best get to my shift and hope ol' stripey doesn't notice if I'm late." He winked at Sharon, "Take care, Sharon." Nice girl, the frog thought to himself cheerfully as he left Oughta do something nice for her while I'm still in town. The man wasn't callous. Just... Focused. With this latest infusion of liquid purpose, said focus was on his job. Which was to report to the badger, wherever the hell that man was...

Mel nodded affirmatively to her Grandmother's question. "I brought a rather large jewel case. Everything was checked and rechecked before we left the Fort. They are some of my best efforts, I believe." After a pause she reached across the table and took the elder dragon's hand, "How are your accessories? I would very much hate to see you underdressed for the upcoming events."

   Sometime after the sun set (though Karazkt didn't know that), Karazkt finally fell into what passed as sleep for an Insectis. He woke up some time later, and, having nothing to do until that odd surfacer came for him, opted for simply pressing his antennae against the stone and listening to the castle. His perception was a little fuzzy, as the structure was made of many stone pieces and not carved from a single one, but he managed. For awhile, though, it was quiet--most of the surfacers appeared to still be asleep. Not only did their cycles seemed to be longer than an Insectis one, but they seemed to all cycle simultaneously as well. Insectis worked on rotating schedules, and it confused him that the surfacers did not. Were they not utterly vulnerable?
   Some more time passed, and activity gradually picked up. Karazkt listened as it did. All hives, made by the combined noises and activities of its inhabitants, had a unique "harmony", or "symphony" if you will, to them. In an unintentional and communally created way, it was not unlike music. This, in a way, gave a representation of the personality of the hive. You could even tell the current state of the hive by this. Eventually, Karazkt was tuned into the "symphony" of all in the castle, made up of their noise and activities.
   And what a symphony it was! More like a cacophony! Karazkt had never heard anything like it. It was the most discordant, chaotic, unorganized and unharmonious orchestra he had ever heard. While Karazkt couldn't pick out individual actions or sounds even under good conditions, he discerned enough to realize that each person acted entirely of their own accord. This shocked Karazkt. It meant that these surfacers had no hive or collective direction at all, and their hierarchy even seemed nonexistent (or maybe he just couldn't pick it out). Either way, it amazed him that these surfacers could even live they way they did. Even the Mer, who lacked a totally overriding collective, still had a strong hierarchy governing their actions.
   For several hours, well into the morning, Karazkt listened in fascination. These surfacers were surely mad.

Kiet, bubbling with enthusiasm and energy, spoke quickly into the phone, "oh yes we would like to order room service."

The concierge sighed, barely concealing it as he procured an order form, "yes... sir... what can I get for you?"

"all." Was the reply from the phone.

"I'm not sure I caught that, could you repeat it?"  He said, drooping his ears down in anticipation of the answer he feared.

"All of it."  Came the happy and sing-song answer from the line.

The concierge could barely contain his frustration, "all of it?!"

"Oh yes," came the reply, "you can bill it to the room of course."

The poor man massaged his temple, "of... course..."  The man spoke his next words as if they were vipers ready to strike at his throat, "any...thing... else?"

"No, thank you for asking."

He breathed a slight sigh of relief, "yes, thank you for your business sir."


Meanwhile...


In the stables, two orange, glowing points of light narrowed as the building creaked yet again.  Finally having enough, the bronze golem stood and stormed out.  It turned its gaze to the back of the stables and found a huge gryphon. 

The fire of 'anger' quickly drained from the construct and ever so quietly... for a metal automaton... it crept towards the vehicle parking area.

"I thank you. and yes there is a lot to read up on. the book you have caught my eye for other less practical reason but it's still one worth reading if my suspicions are correct." he finished his meal which had been a light one despite his hunger and apprised the woman before him again. he tired to keep his own features in check showing no of what he felt but he knew it to be an empty bluff. one one not so skilled in reading body language as they believed would be fooled by a lack of signals. "I'm here hoping to find out more about why some one like me was invited. that's the reason being my trip to the library. if you like i'll show you the way there. still i'm wondering, do they have any rhyme or reason to our invites or are they completely random? " he does not ask what her reason is. he will let her tell him should she chose. if his manner were this bad then he'd not last an hour with the person he'd hope to meet today.

"Quite welcome," the tigress replied as she came back up with the book on dragons in hand, her eyes only lingering on that page for one second as she handed it back to Atem.  Glancing down at the remainder of her food, thinking on the question of the invitations before continuing her meal, she had to agree it was rather curious.

She paused with a gulp of her food before speaking.  "From the interesting crowd that I have seen so far joining the Ball, the invitations seemed random, and for the moment I am willing to stake that it is.  I don't even wonder if some of them were misprinted or a list switched, as well, considering the crowd.  But seeing my full name in red letters..." the Healer shook her head.  "It still makes me wonder."

Once her plate was cleared and she herself full, Rynkura made herself ready to stand up, and smiled back over the table at the feline.  "Thank you for your company, young sir...and there's no need to go to the trouble of leading me there, just point me in the right direction, that would be fine.  You seem most eager to get somewhere anyway, and I'm simply interested in reading.  I am an old scholar, so I can spend hours at a time in a library," she said with utmost sincerity.  That was truly her reason for wanting to find it, and at least that's what she'd have anyone else believe.  "I'm sure I can find it."

Rynkura herself wasn't in a hurry; but with having some research to do and having earlier sighted a familiar countenence in the restaurant, seemingly, made it look so.

Esme continued to trudge through the dreary Damaske winter, her boots crunching through the snow. Slowly, her toes had begun to numb, accompanied by a sensation of cold daggers pricking her feet. The size of her destination had deceived her into believing it would be a short hike, and now it seemed even farther away than it was before. "Gods I hate the winter," she muttered to herself, her breath congealing into cottony puffs of steam. It was a beautiful season, but only when Esme was warm and dry.

The sound of steps and the creak of wheels reached her ears, breaking apart her dreary thoughts. A couple of horses slowed before her, followed by a carriage. The driver was well-bundled, a genial expression on the fox's face as offered her a ride and a respite from the harsh weather. Shaking snow from her wings, Esme happily accepted. She shifted in her seat, eyeing her new companion. "Thank you," Esme smiled, doing her best to remain cheery given the circumstances. "Oh, and I'm Esme Broussard," she added hastily, almost forgetting to introduce herself.

Sitting down at one of the tables in the restaurant, the white wolf began to dig. His plate was stacked full of pieces of egg, bacon, sausage, beans, mushrooms, to name a few. Sure it wasn't the most health of meals, but the lupine didn't care. Only one thing mattered to him; satisfying his hunger. After all, he hadn't eaten for at least 24 hours.

It was then, however, that glancing up to look around the room at the others who were in there, Gareeku noticed someone; someone very familiar.
Well well...a familiar face... the wolf thought to himself, before looking back down to continue his meal. He had no idea why he had been invited to this little party, let alone who invited him. Wondering if anybody else in the restaurant had been invited to the ball, Gareeku finished his meal, his stomach satisfyingly full as he went to put his plate away.

 He hung up the phone. "They do this to me on purpose." Fredrick hissed. "I know it. They giggling up there right now." he said as he ground his teeth. He stood up quickly, banging his head on the hanging potted plat behind him, and after brushing the sod off his shoulders headed for the kitchen. He grabbed a pad and pen off his desk before leaving.

He was scribbling furiously as he walked, until he finally passed through the double-swing doors and into the rushed bustle of the hotel's kitchen. He continued writing for a few minutes, taking a few pages, and finally slapping four completely filled pages of orders onto the counter.
"Order up!" he said, mockingly cheerful, and left. He didn't care to explain to the cooks what had just happened.

He did, however, wait outside the doors until he heard loud expletives, followed by the crash of a skillet being thrown across the room. It made him feel a little better.

* * *

Ray smiled. He had a talent there - there was something about it that made even the most irate customer settle down in the face of that calm, friendly expression, which was somewhat odd when one considered that he was a tiger. Long white teeth seldom inspired relaxation and reason, and yet, he'd been the first one chosen to break the news to the Gryphon Ambassador.
Sometimes Ray wished he was frightening. Maybe then they'd stick him somewhere unseen, like cleaning the rooms, or in the kitchen, where he wouldn't have to deal with people again for the rest of his life. He might live forever, in peace, with only him and the smell of frying grease and cleaner fluid.

"It seems that Rover has...how do I say this...broken the stables?" he winced somewhat. "He is...ah...a very big gryphon. We think he may have bent some of the supporting beams. Or shifted the foundation. It's, ah, leaning, about twenty degrees off."

* * *
Sharon sighed, picking the pot back up and setting in it's slot again. She shook her head slowly, finishing up stirring something in the pot, and went for the strainer in the sink. A small smile, however, still twisted her lips as she worked.

It didn't take long for Jeremiah to find the badger again, directing things over in the atrium of the castle. He brightened when he saw the frog, and motioned for him to come closer.
"Just the man I wanted to see!" he said as Jeremiah approached. "You remember where that guest that arrived last night was, correct? The pale one, big ears? Oh, good." he didn't let the frog get a word in edgewise, and simply assumed that Jeremiah still knew, or could find out again. "Well, Eddie hasn't shown up this morning, and we need someone to fill in as a judge for the wine tasting. I figured she'd be happy to fill in." he said.

Jeremiah remembered Eddie. Elderly mouse fellow, been here since dirt was invented. They hadn't spoken much, but the feeling Jeremiah got from the old guy was he just wanted to be left alone with his work.

* * *

"Pth. I am fully capable of my own wardrobe, Melodie." she said, giving the younger dragon an amused smile. "I wasn't twiddling my thumbs for millenia upon millenia. I was busy getting your grandfather to remember every birthday and anniversary along the line." she grinned, with a slightly evil tinge. "I think I shall manage."

"That lovely sapphire and diamonds and opal suite would look lovely with your dress, however..." LL said, taking a sip of her tea.

* * *

"Call me Ishmael." the fox said, shaking Esme's hand. He grinned widely. "I love it when I get to say that. My name really is Ishmael, by the way. And no, I've never been whaling, and I've got all my legs too."

He smiled, cracking the reins gently, and the carriage started moving again. "You here to help with the preparations? You seem to be packed pretty light. You a clerk, maybe?" he said, the air frosting as he spoke.

Aten smiled. " i understand. somethings are best discovered in private anyway and there are a couple of others whom i wish to speak with before the ball as well."

it was possible that the selection was random but he doubted that. he'd seen to many coincidences that made his hairs stand on end. particularly the dragon and the wolf. they were friends form old meeting and speaking with them thing finding a book concerning her grandmother was another. On top of that it seems that most of the guest were staying in this hotel. The guest seemed to be mostly creatures and beings with creatures ancestry. there had to be some connection, some thread other then their combined civility.

"Even so it will be easier to show you the way then to give you directions as the sun was not up when i ventured the the library this morning. that is if you will allow me to ma'am."

At this point, Rynkura was rather done with the conversation; though what had come from a simple inquiry turned into another interesting insight on the goings-on of the Ball.  She wondered not only how many were invited anyway, but just who else was.  Granted if she saw dragons, it would be a thing of interest.  And who knew what kinds of other creatures were attending, and finally, for what purpose.

She chuckled at "Atem" as she picked up her plate and left the table.  "You are quite the gentleman to offer then, young sir, to go out of your way to show an old scholar to the library.  But I will be fine...the town is a small one, the place should not be more than a few blocks out of the way of the hotel, snowfall permitting the walk.  I can certainly find it.  For now though, I must be going.  I have more people I'd like to meet.  But thank you all the same.  Perhaps I shall see you at the Ball."

Her tone, gentle though sincere and firm, ought to have told him that she was indeed done.  With a polite nod of farewell, the white tigress took her staff in hand and headed off for the edge of the bar to put her plate away.

Again though her eyes caught the familiar figure nearby, the white wolf with very distinct markings and hair style.  "Well, as I live and breathe," she muttered, recognizing him certainly as a most favored comrade of her student.

From behind, it was uncertain that the warrior would hear the Healer's quiet footsteps.  But that aged yet strong voice could be heard all the same as she came up to him.  "Ah, sir Manoko, I did not expect to see you here.  Keeping out of trouble I trust?" she chuckled, tilting her head with a smile.  In an uncertain place, it was good to see someone who wasn't a stranger.

As he was putting his plate away on the dirty dishes rack for the restaurant staff, Gareeku thought he had heard footsteps behind him, suspected them to be that of Rynkura. His suspicions were confirmed he heard the tigress behind him speak in that somewhat aged yet strong and firm voice.

"Ah, sir Manoko, I did not expect to see you here. Keeping out of trouble I trust?"

"When do I not keep out of trouble...?" The wolf replied, a smirk on his face as he turned to face Rynkura. It was then that the smirk on his face turned to a soft, friendly smile. "Indeed; I must admit I was not expecting to see you here either, mistress. It is a most pleasant suprise. It's good to see you, as always."

Glancing around the restaurant once more, the white wolf then looked back towards the tigress. "A ball isn't usually my thing. But being invited personally, with my full name on the letter and everything just got me more than a little curious. Suspicious also, I must admit, but I suppose we'll have to wait and see what events unfold." The wolf commented. "Heh, well I'm thankful a pleasantly familiar face is here at least. Who was that guy you were speaking to, if you don't mind me asking?"

Rynkura laughed again at his reply, pretty much expecting it...the old Healer had liked the warrior almost as soon as she met him, some time ago.  Though she was just a bit surprised to hear that he was invited to the Ball as well.  That put the curiosity factor up higher, just wondering what kind of people they were all dealing with.

She smiled back as they started strolling out of the restaurant, at least a little bit out of the way of any others coming in for breakfast.  "I agree...from the people I've seen around here so far, I wonder if a rather fancy Ball is in their general idea of a good time either."  Rynkura quirked an eyebrow, glancing around.

The tigress turned back to Gareeku, bowing her head slightly.  "Ah, well.  I do agree that it is good to see a friendly face, and that of an ally," she smiled.  "As for the one I was talking to, he calls himself Atem...curious sort, very suspicious of others.  I sense a bit of a demonic influence from him though, and he was carrying several books, one on dragons."

Rynkura hummed.  "I sense that there will be some rather powerful guests here, then.  Even I was invited...and I know very few people who would even know my own full name, and fewer still who would invite me to such an event, in an out-of-the-way place.  I had to leave the Monastery in the care of Aisha and my guards just to see."

Rover totally ignored the bronze horse. He had something much more fun to play with.

* * *

A pained look crossed Tim's face.

"Broken, you say? Let me guess. He leaned on it during the night." She heaved a large, heartfelt sigh, and gently beat her head against the floor. "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone. I knew it. All right, let's go see the damage."

Bracing herself, she led Ray out the door and around to the stables, where they were treated to the slightly disturbing sight of Rover, picking his beak with the pitchfork, over the top of the stables.

Tim blanched. "Rover! Put that thing down! Now!"

Rover jumped, nearly impaling an eye, and dropped the - now slightly bent - pitchfork to the ground, with a clang. He turned, and smiled down at Tim. "Go castle, now?"

Tim looked up at him, unmoving, except for one forepaw, which was tapping. She shook her head, and imperiously pointed at the stables, before uttering just two words. "Bad boy." Rover looked at the stables, from above, with a confused look on his face. He glanced over at Tim, then back at the stables. Then he jumped over the unstable building, landing lightly in front of the two of them, and turned to look at the structure once more. His head tilted to one side, then straightened again - in an almost perfect imitation of Oliver Yarborough, had he but known it - then tilted again. Then his eyes lit up in understanding. He turned back to Tim, and cried "I Fix!" Then, before she could stop him, he leapt back over the building, sat back on his haunches, and slammed both sets of fore-claws into the roof, with a thunderous boom, and pulled.

The roof; the back wall; the open doorway; all split perfectly, directly down the middle. The building peeled open like an orange, leaving the stall structure intact (if entirely pointless, what with the lack of exterior walls to provide security), the various stabled animals almost completely unharmed, if slightly panicked, in a mostly empty lot, surrounded by a large, almost completely circular pile of debris.

And a surprised looking Gryphon, with part of the roof stuck to each paw. He looked at the destruction, then, almost fearfully, over at Tim.

In a tiny, tiny voice, he whimpered: "Help?"

A moment's silence. Then, trembling and shivering, her fur rising until her neckline were almost like a boa, Elyse dropped the envelope with shaking fingers, eyes widening. Backing up against the bed, she swiveled her gaze around, her breathing coming faster and faster. This was it, she thought. She was going insane. Never mind that she knew she were thinking rationally and would have been aware of such a thing a lot more than any other person... No, someone was messing with her, big time. Someone or something. But how that could be, she had no idea. She couldn't sense a living thing, not a single intent thought, anywhere even remotely close. All she had was this uncomfortable, pressing feeling at the back of her head, as if someone nearby were hating her in a very passive-aggressive manner...
  'Okay...' she breathed, trying to maintain her calm. Her focus was usually hard but brittle; she wasn't easy to rattle, but if she lost her grip she knew she had no hope of controlling a confrontation. 'Okayokayokay! You got me! Now what the fuck do you want?!' Her fingers curled, and she kept looking around, trying to find the slightest indication of someone present. 'You want to fuck with me, huh? Well? I'm standing right here. Come on out!'
  On the inside, her mind tightened up like a fist clenching, ready to grab or smash the first thing that moved.

An energetic workout for over an hour had left Andrace with a considerable appetite. She cleaned up quickly in the hotel gym, trotted upstairs to her room to pick up a few odds and ends from a small hidden pocket in her backpack, then she came back down again, following her nose to the dining room.

Breakfast smelled delicious, the lioness thought, her whiskers twitching, as she approached the bottom of the stairs. Bacon, ham, eggs, sausages, more eggs... scrambled maybe, blood pudding, something that might be potato pancakes, a few other things, and... was that mushrooms she could scent? Her hunger sharpened by the mouthwatering aromas, Andrace joined the line for the buffet and came away with a large plate piled high with a little bit of everything. The dining room was getting busy now, though, and she looked around to see if there was a free table anywhere.

"Powerful people invited, eh..." the wolf replied, mulling over what Rynkura had said. "No idea why I was invited, then. After all, I'm only a being. So that guy...demonic influence, eh? Might have to keep an eye on him, perhaps."

Listening to what the mistress said, Gareeku smirked somewhat.
"Heh, I hope she's alright. Goodness knows how she copes with that responsibility. I know I wouldn't." the lupine commented, mulling over what Rynkura had said. "I can't say I envy her position."

 About an hour and a half after the concierge had placed the order, a team of waiters began making their way to the third-story room with three carts-full of room service, containing everything from light salads to deep-fried sandwiches. There were more than a few stares as they commandeered two of the elevators up, and amongst themselves they shook their heads.

They reached the room of Kiet Ti'Pallo a few minutes later, and the lead waiter knocked politely.

* * *

Ray make a choking noise.

His mouth, open halfway, was tugged down towards his left just slightly. His eyes, as well, opened wide, and despite the chill did not blink for at least a minute or so. His head twisted as he attempted to speak, but nothing came out. He gestured with his head for a second, coughing once, and then turning slowly and looking at Tim. He sneezed, sawdust flying up off his nose and shoulders, and coughed again.

"This..." he said, swallowing hard, and looking at her seriously. He was beyond trying to smile. "This will have to be paid for." he said.

He was in an interesting postion. As ambassadors from a foreign embassy - representatives of the Gryphons - the custom of diplomatic immunity was due them. He couldn't have them arrested, per se. He could probably - he was already going to - have them thrown out, however. But, on the other hand, it was likely that his boss would try to kill them, given a decent opportunity and anything resembling a lead pipe, if there were no reparations coming. And Fredrick and himself would be next.

* * *

Andrace did find a table, situated uncomfortably by the piano, but it was empty, and out of the sunlight. No one was playing, anyway, and it was mostly peaceful, listening to the gentle murmur of voices and scrape of cutlery.

There was a sound like a minor explosion for a moment, and everyone paused as they looked for the source - when it stopped, and nothing seemed to have changed, they began going about their own business again. Andrace thought she could see some sawdust floating by the far window, however.

* * *

If anyone had heard Elyse's outburst, they were keeping silent. The only sound in the small room was the drip from the ceiling, and the occasional twitter of birds from outside.

Light dimmed and flared in the crack beneath the door. If she listened very hard, she could hear something moving behind the oak and iron, but couldn't quite make out what.

A chickadee landed abruptly on the windowsill, kicking up a bit of snow as it landed. It turned sideways, cocking it's head and staring at the white bad with it's single beady eye. It chirped once.

* * *

Before Melodie could respond, something exploded outside, setting the tea saucers to rattling and the china to dancing on the table. LL's eyebrows raised, and she pushed her chair out. She set her napkin on the table.
"What in the World was that..."

She rose slowly, and walked steadily to the window to the outside. As soon as she reached it, however, throwing the curtain back, she snerked, then laughing quite hard. Fangs showed from between her fingers.

Jeremiah nodded; he rather liked this plan, actually. She seemed like she needed to mellow out anyway, if drink wasn't indeed the cause of her alarm in the first place. "I'll go fetch her immediately. Should I bring her to you first or...?"
"I'm sure you remember your way around the wine cellars, simply show her about the place." The badger was already starting to go off somewhere else, "And do be quick about it!"
Coffee still buzzing in the frog's veins, soon followed by another handful of what was almost (but not quite) very much like jerky, the frog made his way to Elyse's room.
Wonder where Eddie is? Fellow seemed practically addicted to his work?
You'd know.
Jeremiah frowned and bit into another piece of not-jerky, then opened the door secure in his certainty that today, having gotten off to a reasonably good start thus far, would remain so.
"Good morning, Elyse."

Before Elyse could react, the the entire room seemed to lurch violently, blurring past her vision - the bars disappearing, the door moving back to it's original position, all somehow without moving at all. The chickadee jumped off the windowsill, flying away.

Even the bloodstains on the sheets were gone when the frog opened the door with a cheery good morning.

"Pleased to meet you, Ishmael," Esme laughed, returning the handshake heartily, her dismal mood fleeing. Although it might not have been physically warmer in the carriage, Esme certainly felt as such, or at least better about the situation. She could make a friend her, and maybe she could learn something about the event she was going to as well. Adjusting her coat, Esme frowned, adjusting her glasses, unsure of quite how to respond to Ishmael's query. "No, I'm not a clerk, I've been invited to the ball. Although I'm not quite sure why." She tapped the symbol on her armband to emphasize her words. "I'm just a medical officer with the Belgaen Medical Corps, nothing special, unlike most of the people who attend the Scarlet Masque." The lynx turned to face her new companion, a quizzical look on your face. "What about yourself? What are you going to Damaske Castle for?"

Before Mel could comment that the opal and sapphire suite seemed a bit overkill a loud noise interrupted. Her grandmother's giggles drew her over to the window. Mel couldn't help but grin herself. "I suspect that is not a scheduled urban renewal project." Thinking of the fussy, immaculate raccoon who managed the hotel she laughed out loud, "Poor Ralph, he will have an apoplectic fit when he sees the mess. I feel sorry for his employees, he will be an absolute misery to work for today."

Aten smiled sadly nodded to the instructor as she left. he was a little sad to see her go as he relied in there few minutes of conversation that he could learn much form her. perhaps he could tell her that LL herself was at this ball? perhaps not.  the bet he could do was tell her were in which direction he'd come.  taking his plate and putting int in the dirty dishes the walked  towards the hotels lobby stopped briefly as the tigress and wolf exchanged pleasantries. when a break appeared in the conversation he spoke up.   "I'm sorry to interpret you two but before you start searching madam Msh'taan i'll tell you what i can about finding the location you seek. head towards the castle form the hotel before you go four blocks you should see a sign point to the building you desire" with that he bows and caring his books once more walked towards the hotel desk searching searching for his own agenda and people to find.

A pair of large ears sprang upward and swiveled about.  A knock?  Did we hear a knock?   A large, stripped, and fluffy tail flicked about in anticipation.  The four of them had settled about the living room area and were examining this remarkable firearm, but this had become insignificant in comparison to the knock.

Camiole and Simon scrambled for the door, almost nearly killing one another to reach it first.  Kiet and Jayce waited in anticipation.  Camiole, as always, proved the faster and more dexterous.  She arrived at the door, with one swift motion she threw it open, and smiled warmly for the small division of waiters.  Simon was occupied with trying to extract himself from the cushions were he had been tossed by Camiole.

"Ah, welcome and thank you for your hard work.  Please come in!"  Camiole stated as she gestured across her right side and into the dining area.

It is well known that 'cubi do not need to eat, but they do enjoy doing it and this group was no exception.


Meanwhile...


The bronze golem returned to the stables, in its arms were a number of metal bands, about a dozen in all.  The automaton had carefully "borrowed" a small amount of metal from each vehicle parked in the lot, hoping that their owners would not notice until much later.  What would happen then, the bronze being had not considered, it wasn't one for much long term planning.

Upon seeing the condition of the structure thanks to Rover, it dropped the small bundle of metal strips.  It had planned on shoring up the building supports and corners, but now that was rather impossible.

With a billow of steam the creature spoke, "I can repair the structure, but I need a quantity of lumber and a portion of nails four times as numerous."

Andrace froze for a second or two with her ears perked up, a forkful of sausage, bacon, a big mushroom and a whole fried egg yolk almost in her mouth. That noise... almost as if a ceiling had come down somewhere. She watched the ripples in her glass of orange juice, but they quickly faded. She shifted her paws, splaying her toes out on the floor, but she couldn't feel any more shocks making the room tremble.

Then she noticed one of the windows, she thought looking out onto the hotel's rear courtyard. A puffy cloud of something that didn't look like snow drifted past outside. No alarms sounded, and none of the waiters had that politely concerned air they used where lesser mortals would be in an outright screaming panic, so there was probably nothing to worry about. Not immediately, anyway.

The lioness continued eating before the egg yolk started dripping into her lap, although she kept her ears perked for any other noises beyond the normal murmured conversation and clinking cutlery of a busy dining room.

Rynkura had chuckled, listening to Gareeku speak about Aisha.  "Somehow I thought you wouldn't...the both of you are quite alike, for you're free spirits.  Aisha had been looking to come home for a while though, and some training there will do her good.  Her will is like that of steel.  Though had she known you and I would meet, I would imagine she would have asked to come as well," she smiled.

It was about then that the tiger's sensitive hearing--more than likely the wolf's too--caught the sound of a rather blunt explosion, like something ripping and dropping to the ground outside.  The quieting of the crowd only allowed them to hear it better, before things fell silent and the talking commenced.

What in the...?  She wondered with a stone-serious face, before shaking her head dismissively and turning it back to Gareeku.  "That was probably one of the larger Ball guests, a giant Gryphon," she explained, having thought of nobody else.  Remembering what he said about why he'd be invited, she smirked just slightly.  "One should not judge one by race, anyway.  You may be a Being, but if I recall you are skilled and magic-proficient.  Not to mention, sir Manoko, one of a great name in adventuring.  I only hope that isn't an enemy we may be dealing with, thus."

Her ears lowered to the back of her head.  "I would not like that Aisha ends up unable to see either of us again."

At that point, the gray feline had suddenly come up to them again and pointed the way to the direction he had come, before leaving.  "Oh, my thanks then, Atem," she called back, before turning back to the wolf with a sigh.  "At any rate, the Ball isn't for a little while yet...and I was going towards the library, to gather some information on the history of that castle if possible.  Have you many plans for the day, young Gareeku?" she asked as she gathered herself, out of simple curiosity.

Listening to what Rynkura, Gareeku also chuckled slightly. "Indeed. Some may call it stubborn. I like to call it determined. Once Aisha has her sights set on something, it's hard to deter her. Like you said, if Aisha had known both of us had been invited. Nothing would have stopped her from getting into the ball" The wolf replied, smiling as he thought about it.

However, one thing that Rynkura had said had stuck in Gareeku's mind was home....home...Gareeku had not called a place "home" for a number of years, but now it felt like the monastery was becoming more and more like home.

Any further thoughts of this would quickly be interrupted, however, by the sound of an explosion somewhere outside.
"What the hell..." the wolf growled, eyes narrowed as he looked around. Listening to Rynkura's explanation of what she thought the reason for that explosion might be. Gareeku raisied an eyebrow.
"A giant gryphon...?" the lupine replied, clearly not impressed with the fact that a potential catastrophie waiting to happen was right nearby. "Well isn't that fantastic..."

Listening to the white tigress speak of his reputation, Gareeku smirked.
"There are others aside from me. I am sure I am far from the best." The wolf replied, before a more serious expression appeared on his face. "Agreed. I must say, a large degree of caution would most likely be more suited in this situation." The wolf nodded his head in agreement. "She has already lost too many already."

It was then that the stranger who Rynkura had been speaking to earlier approached them, giving the tigress directions to the town's library. Silently nodding his head in greeting to the stranger, Gareeku watched him leave before turning back to the healer.
"I never make plans." the wolf replied with a smirk. "I suppose I could join you in the library, if you like. I would be quite interested to see what books they have on ancient history..."

Rynkura nodded, chuckling at the wolf's comment about never making plans.  "Well, the best things in life are often surprises, certainly."  The tigress straightened her light blue cloak as she took one more look around the dining hall for the exit.

Answering him with a smile, she started walking in the direction she was pointed, her staff clicking gently on the floor.  "Of course, you may accompany me if you like; I do not mind.  With a town such as this we may find something fairly interesting to the both of us in the annals while we are there."

Walking past several milling guests, Rynkura held in her mind that most definitely they should try to keep on alert.  Whatever the Ball was, whether for business or pleasure, they would get through it.  Some would call the suspicion a bit foolish, but having lived in the world for so long, one knows to never always trust optimism.

As the doors came up and the deep snow visible out beyond the glass, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and paused in thought.  "My hope is that the path will try not to go past where the explosion happened.  I met the gryphon earlier and his...well, his handler for lack of a better term, a sentient gryphon.  And the big one rather thinks I'm..."

The Healer grimaced, half with embarrassment and half with amusement.  As she they went out into the snow, she didn't know which side to follow.  "...A pet 'kitty' to be played with.  Who knows what he will think of you."

Listening to Rynkura explain her previous experience with the giant gryphon, Gareeku gave a somewhat concerned look.
"oookay then..." the wolf replied, the concern evident in his voice as he walked with the tigress. Pulling his own hood up over his head, Gareeku frowned. "No doubt I would be made toy. Or a snack. I can't say I'm that happy having a multi-storey walking disaster-waiting-to-happen around in the middle of this town. It's just asking for trouble, as far as I am concerned."

Rynkura hummed a laugh, trying to keep away from the patches of ice on the ground as she looked for the sign--or at least the castle rising up from somewhere--so she could tell where they were going.  "I have a small doubt that he will be that much of a disaster, he seemed to want to be good for his handler...the explosion notwithstanding.  Still, big as the gryphon is, it is only mortal."

By way of making a point, she briefly raised her hand to the level of her face.  Small crackles of electricity traveled up her arm and coalesced to a point in her palm like a ball.  She narrowed her eyes in thought...she hadn't come across many large gryphons really...great in size and power, did anything hold the ability to hold one at bay, even with magic?

Who knew...Rover at least tried to be friendly.  She hoped that nothing would prove otherwise.  "Well, we can deal with that bridge if it is crossed, I believe." she just said, a small grin on her hidden face.

Soon the way was found, walking away from the hotel down the street blocks until she saw the ornate sign to the small library in the town hanging above the door.  She shook the snow from her clothes before looking to walk in, looking about for the front desk and if someone was around.  Permitting of course the place was even open.

Tim stood there, arm outstretched, pointing at the pile of broken boards, loose animals, and rising dust, that used to be a stables.

She barely blinked as the sawdust, and straw dust, settled out on the two of them. The arm remained motionless, the beak slightly ajar. Eventually, shortly after Ray's declamation, she blinked. A pained look passed over her face, in a glacial fashion. The arm slowly drooped, and fell to her side. She eventually winced, and groaned.

One paw rose to her head, and started massaging her temple. "And it looked like being such a nice day." She shook herself, with an effect like dropping a bag of flour, and sighed, then reached into a pocket and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. She went on "I'm terribly sorry about all... all..." She paused, obviously searching for - and failing to find - a suitable word. "Ah... this." She waved at the piles of rubble. "I hope this," she handed over the folded paper, "will take care of the problem. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and correct Rover, before he breaks anything else. I'll be back in a minute." She nodded apologetically to Ray, then picked her way over to Rover.

Once there, she looked up at him with a hurt expression. "I told you, boy." She pulled some of the roof from his left forepaw, and dropped it on the pile behind her. "Things are soft." She finished his left forepaw, and moved on to his right. "Easy to break." She pulled the last piece - as with most of the others, she was using both paws to hold it, as well as to pull it free - and tossed it over her shoulder before continuing. "While I thank you for helping, perhaps it would have been better to avoid breaking it in the first place, hmmm?"

She patted him on the paw comfortingly - looking a bit like a mouse petting a large cat, in terms of scale, if nothing else - and went on. "How about you stay here, and don't lean on anything else, just for a few minutes, and then we'll get going, ok?"

Rover, who had cheered up just a little bit during the gentle scolding, nodded, then bent his head down and nuzzled her. "Okay." He then sat back, and shuddered his wings, shaking some dust loose. Glancing around over the buildings, he noticed Rynkura vanishing into a building up the street. He glanced down at Tim, and exclaimed "Kitty!", shortly followed by "Kitty gone," in a sad tone, before settling back to wait for her.

Tim looked up at him, blinked, glanced around, shrugged, and, after assuring herself that he wasn't going anywhere, picked her way back through the piles of broken stable to where Ray was standing. "I'm sorry about that. You kinda need to deal with him at the time, otherwise he gets confused."

 Ray turned and looked at the golem. He heard, as though distantly, the gryphon say something and then press something into his hand, but he didn't bother even to open it. His face tensed, and one eyed twitched.

"What..." he nearly choked again, and baring his teeth grabbed a fallen shingle from the roof and threw it at the bronze thing. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he yelled. Tim walked off around that point to talk to the monstrosity, leaving Ray to scream at the mechanical golem. The tiger was practically writhing, something akin to a... dangerous break with protocol in his eyes.

"With what lumber! Does it look like we have any goddam lumber?!" he said, nearly hysterical at this point. "What is WRONG with you?! Are you going to dig to the foundation too? Set the supporting beams back up?!" he began grabbing anything he could find off the ground and throwing it at the thing, the pieces of wood and rocks making satisfying, if ineffective, clanging sounds on the golem's metal skin.

"How about the roof, are you going to put that back on too?! The insulation?! No! No!" he gestured, punctuating his sentences with very threatening motions. "This has got to be paid for! I'm not having some...some...automaton building our goddam stables with his nonexistent lumber and four nails to a nonexistent BOARD!"

He panted.

He looked at the note in his hand. It was a bit dirty, but it was very clearly a letter of credit with the nearest gryphon consulate for up to $500,000. Per review by an adjuster's estimate.

"This is fine. Your bags will be brought shortly." he said. A moment later, and he was walking back into the hotel, making faint crunchy sounds on the debris-littered ground.

* * *

A few moments later, just as Ray disappeared around the corner, Tim noticed a police officer walking towards the both of them, looking around carefully and with his hand on his belt. It was apparent after a few moments that he was heading for the smaller gryphon, and the golem that was beside her.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm Officer Y'mir." he said as he approached. "We received a call from this location about twenty minutes ago. Someone said a bronze golem - this golem, I take it - was making the rounds through the parking lot and doing something to each of the cars." he said, seemingly for the first time noticing the giant gryphon behind Tim. It was to his credit he managed to keep himself steady, and looking right back down at the smaller of the two birds.
"Is this yours?" he said, thumbing at the automation.

* * *

LL raised an eyebrow as the tiger below started throwing things at the bronze-esque golem, and turned back to the table, picking up her tea but not sitting down.

"Ralph has hired people to have conniptions for him, it seems." she sniffed, drinking down the rest of the lukewarm liquid before it went cold. "That's something I had to talk to him about yesterday. You hardly see him around here anymore, unless it's in his office, or when looking at his signature on a page. One musn't let oneself be too important to take an active role in the running of things." she said, setting her teacup down, and surprisingly enough, pushing her own chair in. "You have to keep that...personal touch alive. It's the reason for our good morale, I think."

Mel couldn't see LL's face from where she was, but she knew there was a grin plastered on it.
"Duty calls, Melodie. We'll be leaving around noon. If you're still hungry, Walter will be along shortly to clean up, so feel free to stay."

* * *

Rynkura found that the library was, indeed, open. A female Lemur was at the front desk, looking through a pair of glasses-with-chain at something in front of her. She didn't seem to pay the Tigress any mind, however - she simply went about her own business, ready to help if help was needed.

The library was not all that large. Two stories at most, more sprawling than high - it appeared as though it had been added onto several times, with oddly-proportioned rooms and distances between them. A walkway labeled "nonfiction" was to her left, headed up a ramp towards a glass-windowed second story room.

* * *

"Oh, m'pardon, m'lady." Ishmael said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Or is that just miss to you? You don't look the part, is what I mean. We see more rulers of small countries than medical workers invited to these sorts of things, you see."

"Let alone someone walking by themselves up the hill. You know, aside from this town and that Castle, this is the only civilization for at least sixty miles? Those are wild woods out there, with wolves and everything. Bears are hibernating, unless you trod on one, though."

"To answer your question, though, I've got about twenty boxes of food for the party that's going to go on tonight. From the smell, I suspect something with onions. As for what I do, I drive a cart." he said, grinning. "Congrats on the invite, though. I guess medical workers deserve a break as much as anyone else." he said, smiling easily at her.

Barely a flicker of a second passed, before a stinging something vaguely resembling a hand but about as visible as the taste of his discontent smacked Jeremiah's cheek with a resounding slap, and the door was yanked from his hand and opened fully and stiffly. Elyse glared at him, some vague and low tremor in her eyes and her fists tightly curled, the coloration of her fur making it impossible to see whether if her knuckles were whitening or not. She stood looking at him for a good, long bit, then spoke up with a voice strung hard with tension.
   'Stay right where you are. Don't come any closer,' she said, standing in place. 'Did you do that?'

The golem was remarkably patient for a warmachine.  If he had been like any of the others, than this poor being would have been reduced to red mulch, but he had been a willing soul transfer.  A dying soldier granted a type of immortality in the service of his beloved land.  This is why Kiet used him more than the others, whom had their souls forcefully torn from their bodies and thrust into these shells.  As such, he allowed Ray to take out his frustrations on his sturdy, armored shell.

Eventually a small piece of paper calmed it down and it walked off, leaving the golem with the two bird creatures.  The "Of Mice and Men" pair seemed to be doing fine among themselves and the golem was about to leave when a member of the local watch, a constable of some sort approached.  The being seemed to believe that the small gryphon was his owner.  For one of the first times in its long history, the creature was incensed.  There was no way such an unremarkable female and her giant puppy gryph could ever have been responsible for his existence!
   
"I think not my good being, this gryphon, as cute and generous as she may be, could not have made me.  I am a loyal war golem of General Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo, First Marshal of the Council Guard, Archmagister of the War Mages.  I was a soldier of the Elite Guard representing the unified forces of the Council of Creatures. "


Meanwhile...


Kiet sneezed, narrowly avoiding spraying decadent mocha orange cappuccino all over Jayce, "oh pardon me."

For creatures whom did not need to eat, or perhaps because of this, they four of them seemed to have an endless appetite.  Waffles, pancakes, strudels, omelets, poached eggs, smoked meats, and anything else you could imagine was there.  They indulged in everything as fine connoisseurs, as professional eaters, and even as a touch of the juvenile as Kiet twitched his nose mischievously and propelled a large lump of gravy potatoes right into Simon's muzzle.

What came next could only expected.

Smack!
Jeremiah flinched with the blow, not entirely sure how to react. His brain worked furiously, trying to work out what in the sparkley pink hell was going on. Fortunately he was able to assemble the facts with his usual tact and deftness for disentangling himself from trouble.
"Erm, no. The bit where something hit me in the face? No, that wasn't me." He rubbed his cheek, wide eyed and confused, "Was it you? I think I missed something here." Oh yeah. Getting this woman boozed up is gonna be totally awesome. Maybe she'll let me mooch a glass, I think I'll need it...

Aten was at the hotel desk he asked that messages be sent first to one Cogidubnus whom's last named escaped him at the moment and also to one Melodie Icewing. the name on the message was Atem

Rynkura shook the snow that had gathered on her cape off onto the ground before stepping into the building, also keeping the door open for Gareeku.  Snow didn't usually bother the tigress much, but she hoped that the amount falling this year wouldn't hinder anyone's activity; it seemed about the kind that would snow someone in if they weren't careful.

Inside the library, the Healer couldn't help but pause and look at the surroundings.  It was an impressive building, stocked with all sorts of colored bindings that drew the eye of a scholar.  Rynkura herself probably wouldn't have stayed long though, considering the day.  And she had a curiosity to sate.

Her emerald gaze lingered once on the path to the nonfiction section, and then fell back onto the front desk and to the lemur minding it.  She wondered if that was where the city's archives were located.  Or even if they kept any about the castle where the ball was to be held.

"Hm, looks like we have a good amount to nose through," she muttered with a slight chuckle to the wolf as she stepped up to the front desk.

"Excuse me, young miss," Rynkura quietly inquired.  "But would one find the historical archives of this city among the nonfiction?"  Her smile was polite, expressing not but simple curiosity, were the librarian to look up at her.

Tim was slightly shocked, and significantly disappointed - but not very surprised - to realise that they were being thrown out of the hotel. After all, they were paying for the damages - and would have been happy to do so, even before Rover's assistance rendered them quite so... obvious. Still, it wasn't as if it was entirely unexpected, and they should be on their way soon, anyway.

It still hurt, though. Just a bit.

Before she could recover her equanimity, Ray had vanished back into the hotel, taking the credit note with him. Hot on his heels, the local constabulary made themselves known, looking for the owner of the golem. She drew breath to respond, but, butting in, the golem itself had responded to the query. She waited for it to finish, then turned to the officer. "As this fine machine says, he's not mine. I suspect you'll find his 'General Tipaollo'" she paused, raising an eyebrow at the golem inquiringly, to check if she had the pronunciation correct, then went on "in the hotel over there, but as I haven't met the gentleman in question, I couldn't say for sure." She stopped for a moment. "Was there anything else I could help you with, Officer Y'mir? I have kind of a busy day ahead of me, unfortunately."

 "Ah..." the officer looked at Tim, then up at Rover, and shook his head. The rampant destruction around him suggested quite plainly what had just happened, but he simply started scribbling in his notebook.
"I haven't gotten any calls about giant gryphons." he said, turning his attention back to the bronze golem.

"As for you, that's great." he said, finishing what he was writing and ripping of a pink-colored piece of paper. "You can give him this."
The note was apparently sticky, and stuck to the golem's chest quite easy. "21 counts of vandalism, as far as I can tell. He needs to appear at the county courthouse within two weeks to get his court date. If he does not show, a warrant for his arrest will be issued. It would be terrible if he were to come back next year and be arrested off the train. I assure you, we have done so before." the officer gave a nonplussed look to the golem, and put his notebook back in one of the various pouches of his belt. "I'm sure such a talkative golem like you can tell him all that. Have a nice day, the three of you."

* * *

"...I'm not quite sure I follow." Ralph said, coughing. The raccoon looked around the room shiftily.

"I'm sure you quite do." LL said, yawning and showing off many very long, very sharp fangs. "There's nothing quite so refreshing as getting your hands dirty, sometimes. My word, if I didn't personally see to some things, I might go stir crazy sitting on my own hands all the time." She looked at him amusedly. The last time she'd gone out, admittedly, had been very therapeutic, but perhaps not for anyone else. It'd taken them weeks to get the stains out of the carpets, she'd heard.

"It's like that deplorable display I just saw outside." she looked at him sharply. "Your own stables collapse, and you send a clerk to take care of it?" she said. Although LL did not have eyebrows, she was still capable of raising them, and did so now. Ralph choked.
"I....what?!"

"You will be keeping them on, correct? They're very cute together. I'm certain the big one didn't mean to do it. Besides, I'm sure if you had gone yourself, you could have kept control of things..." LL grinned at him.
"You can't be serious!" Ralph said, looking around them room more and more like a cornered animal. "They destroyed a building! I could not possibly let them stay-"

"Oh, do come off it." she sniffed. "They're diplomats trying to make a good impression. The gryphons are not so poor as to stiff you for that sort of destruction." she shifted in her seat, looking down her nose at the beleaguered manager. "I was so looking forward to seeing them again next year. I'm sure they'll be here, too."

To his testament, Ralph managed a glare.

* * *

Fredrick looked through his list, and then back up at Atem. He sniffed. "There isn't anyone by the name 'Cogidubnus' staying here, sir. In addition, the Icewing family does not accept public messages. If you have business with them, I understand there is an attendant on the fifth floor that can help you."

* * *

The lemur looked up from her work, glasses perched precariously on her nose. "Um...that depends." she said, setting her pen down. "How far back are you looking? The oldest archives are kept in city hall, and it might take some time to retrieve them from storage. We have archives from the last fifty years in the room for non-circulating materials, upstairs and in the glass room to your right."

Aten nodded. "thank you. "  Aten waled towards the elevator thinking. An attendant  on the 5th floor  he thought that must be Walter whom the dragonness mentioned but whom was this Cogidubnus? was he using and alias like himself? was he staying somewhere else? perhaps the castle itself? this was quite curious. he and the dragoness seemed to be old friend yet he seemed young. oh sure he was older him myself but in dragon terms that would barely be and acquaintance. ah well he thought as the elevator came. he would ask for Walter and if he found him ask for a message be sent to the dragoness and an appointment with the matron. against someone of her age and power he'd have no change if she got angry she he'd best watch it and hope she's in a good mood.   

"Thank you, but I'm not sure I want to be on a break." Esme's ears flattened to the back of her head, and she briefly reminded of all of the wounded and starving that she had left behind her. "There are too many people who need my help. I don't think I would have even come in there if it weren't for our dire need of medical supplies and food." She frowned, shaking her head sorrowfully. "Maybe the people might be more inclined to like their leaders if they would give them the things they desperately need instead of hoarding it for themselves. But I suppose it's not my place to make such judgements, although I certainly wish it was." She eyed her companion curiously. "You sound awfully cheery for somebody put in the position of driving a cart of food in the dead of winter, miles upon miles from the nearest civilization."

Unaware that anyone was looking for her Mel had finished her breakfast then, after stopping in her room to pick up her coat to ward off any warm winds, had taken the back stairway so that she could look at the damaged stables on her way to the shopping district. She had a few hours to fill before the art review and wine tasting at the castle and remembered the many fine shops the town was known for. First a quick peek at the hotel employees agitatedly fluttering around the giant gryphon then she'd pick up a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop to accompany her on her window-shopping.

The golem looked at the ticket and stopped the officer, gently, and handed the ticket back to him.

He then displayed an appropriate diplomatic identification (in some sense you could say diplomatic plates) with his unit serial number as an indicator of its uniqueness.  Carefully piling the metal bits next to the officer, the automaton hissed steam in such a way as to appear as a sigh.

"I am equipped with diplomatic immunity as is Master TiPaollo and staff.  Please issue this citation to the local consulate.  Barring any local representatives, you can locate the nearest branch and issue it there.  I am not sure the geographic locations specifically, but if either Zinvth or Toltedra are reasonably close than there will be a major consulate there.  I have been out of public circulation for four hundred years, in that time I could perform as I have and Master TiPaollo would need only contribute a large amount of gold to the local lord.  That lord would then compensate his subjects as he saw fit and retained what he desired for his own convenience.  We can also do that if you wish, as the vehicles borrowed from only belong to residents and employees."

OOC: the golem only borrowed from vehicles not known to be expensive with local territory identifications



Meanwhile...


Having thoroughly enjoyed every ounce of food, which was strangely missing any item containing bannanas thanks to Camiole and company, the cubi allowed the staff to carry the dishes away.  Once the staff had left, they considered the options for the rest of the day.

Camiole sipped on a glass of water, "if you are genuinely considering the reception, then I shall accompany you.  Jayce and Simon will remain here as is customary to prepare for the ball tonight.  Only you are on the guest list, so we will remain behind during the actual ball unless you or the host request all attendance."   

Kiet nodded as he tried to soothe his headache as he considered what to wear.  Besides, Kiet knew better than to question her plans, she was not a trained soldier and bodyguard for fun, she was the expert.

"We will also be using these communicators, decorative cuff links utilizing both a magical communication system and a conventional, tight beam, secure channel radio.  I do not leave anything for chance, and as such we still have our mindlinks as well."

 

 The police officer gave the golem an odd look, and with distinctly less amiability put the note back into his pocket.

"We get a lot of bigwigs in town." he said, pulling out his pen and paper again. "We're used to diplomatic immunity. I regret to inform you that, while Kiet Ti'Pallo, his family, and his administrative and technical staff do have immunity, that service staff does not. Admittedly," he continued, writing something down. "You are an interesting case. I'm no philosopher, but you seem sentient enough for me, so that rules out you being a pet. Slavery is illegal here also, so we'll go ahead and assume that you sleeping in the barn means you are service staff and not an illegally owned sentient."

"What's more, whatever immunities you have, international convention does give me the right to issue you a traffic ticket." he paused, looking the golem up and down, and started scribbling again. "And you look pretty motorized, magically or mechanically, to me."

"Twenty-one cases of hit and run, and leaving the scene of an accident. This will be forwarded to the consulate, and your immunity will be asked to be revoked so that you may stand trial. As well, you will be subject to any legal repercussions of your home country may choose to visit. If your master is a rich young noble, please inform him that his mother will find out about this if it isn't taken care of." He finished, and politely held the note out for the golem to take.

"I'll also ignore the bit about bribery, although I'm sure the mayor wouldn't be averse to the idea."

* * *

"Oh, we're not that far from the nearest civilization." he said, giving her a smile. "The castle is only about two or three miles away from the town. Other than that, though, it's all woods. And it's all filled with very dangerous things, s'all I meant."

He sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Anyway, may as well be cheery as depressed. Although I could do with it being a little warmer today, yes." he smiled. "Sorry to hear that things aren't going well, though. It is the hungry time, unless you are in a position of privilege. G'luck with the nobles - if you want my advice, appeal to their vanity. Man will give a lot to feel good about themselves."

The castle was getting closer by the moment. Esme could see people milling about in the distance, around the gates and the doors.
"Another day, another dollar." the fox said suddenly, shifting the reins and urging his horses on to greater speed. "Thanks for the company. It gets monotonous, the endless snow."

* * *

There were dragons everywhere on the fifth floor, and Atem hardly knew where to begin, although he supposed one of them could tell him who he should see first.

* * *

Mel's sneaking about revealed only one employee who seemed to be greatly disturbed by all this - the long-haired tiger from before, who seemed to be having a fit of the shakes. The others were looking outside the window with something along the lines of morbid curiosity, and a few of them were idly continuing with their jobs, utterly uninterested. The concierge seemed to be busy reading a newspaper underneath behind his copy of the hotel registry.

Aten felt a sudden headache coming on.  this was not going to be easy. perhaps it would be best to stick to the ice dragons and ask for one named Walter whom worked with the Ice wing family. he['d better change the wording a little but that should work best. Picking won he introduced himself as atem again and asked for the whereabouts of Walter."

On the way to the library, Gareeku said nothing much, either grunting somewhat or nodding his head in response to anything Rynkura said. Entering the library behind the tigress, the wolf glanced around their surroundings briefly, before watching as Rynkura approaching the library receptionist; a female Lemur.

Andrace finished a leisurely breakfast, chasing the last mushroom around her plate with a forkful of egg, and knocked it all down with a second cup of coffee. She'd been thinking hard as she ate, right now what she needed more than anything else was information. She sauntered out into the lobby and paused there for a minute, looking around unobtrusively. Among the hotel staff busily scuttling about there was a concierge, and a clerk at the reception desk. Either would be ideal for her purpose, but... not now. Breakfast was still being served for late risers, staff and guests were hurrying through the lobby all the time. And she didn't want to make the subject of her curiosity too widely known. She'd come back later, perhaps mid-morning, when it would hopefully be quieter.

The lioness trotted upstairs to her room to pick up her jerkin, then came back down again and out onto the street. All she could do for the next couple of hours was wait, but she could shop while she waited. On the ride to the hotel yesterday the rickshaw had passed a shop that looked like a branch of Rita's House of Pointies. Maybe she could finally get some well-balanced throwing knives to replace the ones she'd... ah... lost a couple of weeks before.

Eyes trembling, her almost glowing yellow irises glaring and bright with tension from within her dark sclera, the bat's face seemed to want to curl up, as if she'd smelled or tasted something awful. Curiously, Jeremiah noticed that the little golden symbol hanging from her left ear, a sort of seven-pointed star with a little red drop at its center, was jingling in its chain.
  For Elyse, the whole situation was an absolute dilemma. She'd already done the thinking, and more than realized that there was no evidence or anything much at all to go on, and that she certainly couldn't trust Jeremiah in the first place even if he were willing to cooperate or listen to her. That, and the fact that telling him her interpretation of what had just happened would make her seem even more out of her skull. And that likely she couldn't ask him anything or get much anything more useful out of him than another pair of eyes and an alternate perspective. Which, granted, was still worth something. So she couldn't just force something out of him. Even if she were developing an urge to start prying in his head, in spite of what she knew it held.
  Really, the only options she was left with was doing nothing or wandering aimlessly. She had felt clueless and without purpose before, but this time around she thought it was just ridiculous.
  Then again, there was one thing she could try. The one thing most likely to provoke some sort of response, if there were indeed something malicious and willful behind all this recent madness. And if only she could keep the damn frog around when it happened...
  'Right,' she said, bitterly. 'Next time, you will knock.' She scowled at him for a couple more seconds, before she strode across the room and against him, walking as if she expected him to vanish from her way into thin air, and failing that throw himself on the floor so she could tread over him.
  'I think I would have you escort me out. There are some things that I should acquire before I go on with this, and to do that I must go back down into town.'

Rynkura watched the lemur librarian, ever stoic and patient as she thought of an answer to give.  When she did, the white tiger before her looked thoughtful for a moment herself; she couldn't remember exactly for how long the history of the town went.

But then, she nodded in reply.  "Fifty years ought to do...I am mainly curious about the castle that overlooks this place and the family that kept it...being a dappling historian myself," Rynkura smiled in a friendly manner, hoping that asking about the place wouldn't stem some sort of suspicion.

With a thanks to the lemur, the Healer decided to let her to her work.  Nodding to Gareeku, she turned and made for the glass room to search through the nonfiction for--who knows--a clue or two.

"I suppose it's a good thing I didn't walk about in the woods," Esme chuckled, wiping her nose. The cold was starting to give her the sniffles. Esme certainly wasn't worried about her own condition during the coming winter, but her companion spoke rightly enough. Many people in Belgae would go hungry this winter, and only the aristocracy had the power to prevent. Inside, Esme prayed that they had the heart in them to do so. "That's good advice. I hope it's true, for the people's sake."

"Thank you very much for the ride, sir. I was quite glad to accompany you." A warm smile crossed her face, and, withdrawing her wallet, the angel withdrew a bill, placing it firmly in her companion's hand. "Well, even though you can't go to the ball, you should have this. I don't think I'll be needing it in the coming days as much as you will." As the woman withdrew her hand, a bold ONE HUNDRED came into view.

Mel made her way to the ground floor and out into the back service court. The stable mess was more impressive at ground level. As well as the shattered wood straw and grain were scattered about, the lighter particles still floating in the air. Stable hands were starting to appear to move the panicked beasts to new accommodations and a cop and a clockwork monstrosity appeared to be having an argument. Mel smiled, just a little. Hotel management would think grandmother a mere eccentric after this. With a cheery wave at the giant gryphon lying amongst the mess the dragon picked her way across the courtyard and out to the shopping district.

The shortish dragon gave Atem a strange look, and ashed the cigar she was smoking into a nearby potted plant. She took a drag, letting the smoke drift out slowly from her nose.
"The old man? Probably making tea or some shit." She said derisively. "Down that hall, last I saw." She pointed it out, the third of three halls ahead of Atem.
"In anticipation of your requests, as the only reason anyone walks up here and asks for Walter out of the blue is to meet with the lady, though, she isn't taking any more." She said, sucking on her cigar again. "She'll be meeting more..." she looked Atem up and down, blowing some smoke. "Ah, freely, at the ball. It is a party, I guess."

* * *

Both Andrace and Mel were heading deeper into the town, where like the rest of the town, small shops and restaurants carefully tried to cultivate the image of colorful luxury, with steep roofs and stone streets. Like many places which attracted tourists, however, the veneer of luxury was simply that – a veneer. The shops contained anything and everything one could desire in imitation, from cubic rings to synthetic furs, and everything ornate and quite useless.
Hidden amongst these were a few places that sold items of quality. The jewelers, as opposed to the novelty stores, tended to be legitimate, if only because the upper class knew their gems if nothing else. If one was careful, one could also find legitimate stores in other places – two streets away was the shop of firearms that Kiet had no long ago frequented, and a small hole in the wall that advertised itself at a purveyor of cutlery was most certainly selling things that were not, in fact, kitchen knives.

* * *

The fox tipped his hat backwards and smiled at Esme. "Oh, this is too much." He said, stuffing the bill into his pocket. "Much too much. God bless you. If you need a ride back down later, look for me." He said.

A few attendants from the castle were already approaching. The large iron doors were wide open, and Esme could see people coming in and out, and generally loitering around. The general direction tended to be inside, however, and out of the cold.

* * *

The castle walls listened amiably to Else's proclamation, and as stone is wont to do, remained silent.
The chickadee outside relighted upon the windowsill and pecked about.

The woman was obviously frazzled and that, coupled with the delay before her rebukement, would have tipped the servant off that something more was going on here if he wasn't furious.
Jeremiah's face traversed the "you're kidding me" spectrum in an almost staggering display of expressive dexterity, eventually settling on a tight-lipped smile that anyone who ever dealt with the service industry would recognise as 'about to gob in your food.' The frog finally exhaled through his teeth, and the smile lost a little of its edge. A little.
He wanted to waste the good wine on this?
NOW can I scag her?
"It would be my pleasure, madam." And with that, the spell was broken, and Jeremiah's face snapped back to its usual friendly grin. You could almost forget the exasperated look had been there at all, brief as it was. Like flipping a switch. If there was anything Jeremiah could do in a pinch, it was lie. And he lied well. The trick was to not half-ass it; if you gotta lie, lie BIG. "I'd be happy to show you around town. Simply allow me to fetch my coat and I'll be right along. Would you like me to meet up with you at the door or back here?"

Mel quickly found Jorgie's, the coffee shop she remembered from the last time she had visited Damaske. It had changed quite a bit, gone more upscale, probably to compete with the chain coffee shops that seemed to be everywhere these days. But they were quick and cheerful and soon Mel had a local newspaper and a cup of hot chocolate. The outside patio was empty and would give her probably her only quiet alone time all day. She'd view the local headlines before wandering the local stores. As she brushed the snow off a seat she smiled at the fact that the chill weather that she found so pleasant was what gave her the patio to herself. Not many people were voluntarily outside today. That thought brought another. The dragon walked back into the shop and up to the counter. "Please deliver 20 gallons of your finest hot chocolate to the stables at the Firebloom Inn. You will know to whom it belongs when you get there."  She placed a rather large denomination coin on the counter. Enough to pay for the drink, the delivery, and a hefty tip for whoever made the delivery. "And do not skimp on the marshmallows."

Andrace paused in her wanderings in a small sidestreet tucked away far from the fashionable, expensive part of Damaske. A short distance away, on the other side of the street, she saw a gunsmith's shop. Ever since she'd... ah... "acquired" her pistol, she'd been on a near constant hunt for ammo and spare parts. The gun had been invaluable in many of her jobs over the last few years, but because it was custom-made, such things were usually not easy to find. She suspected its maker had made all his own ammo, but since he was rather spectacularly no longer among the living, she had to make do. She crossed the road for a closer look, and nearly missed seeing the knife shop.

It had been disappointing to find out the shop she'd seen for a moment last night wasn't a Rita's after all, it only decorated its front window in something similar to the RHoP style. This, though, was the real thing, the sort of place run by either a junk dealer or a real craftsman. And the display pieces she saw in the window — despite the "Kitchen Cutlery" sign — was far from junk. The gun shop could wait: besides, it might not be a good idea to be seen in there considering she might need her own gun for this job. Publicly visible interest in knives was safer: she couldn't imagine anyone believing she'd set out to take down a hideously powerful and dangerous Creature like Kiet TiPaollo armed only with a handful of throwing daggers. The lioness strode forward, pushed the door open, and flicked an ear at the faint ting of a bell from a back room somewhere.

 The librarian made a pensive expression, and played with a strand of her hair. "Well...that castle has been here longer than this town has." she said, setting a pencil down and beginning to type into her computer. "But, you're not the first person to...yes, I was afraid so." she said, frowning.
"An archaeologist, a Mr. Gerard Irisi, made special arrangements to check out all the books we had on Castle Damaske just a few months ago. Including the non-circulating books." she said, frowning. "That's almost never allowed. He hasn't returned them yet either." her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together in displeasure.

She turned back. "There may be books that relate to that Castle - um, the town's historical records may mention it in passing, but it seems we don't have anything on it specifically at the moment. We will do our best to contact Mr. Irisi in the next few days."

* * *

The barista raised an eyebrow at Mel, her expression of both surpressed horror and bewilderment, but her expression changed when she saw the coin the dragon left on the counter - an old currency of solid platinum, worth a great deal now for its metal more than anything else. She nodded.
"It'll be thirty minutes or so. We normally don't...um, deliver. But we can." she said - she appeared to be softspoken, and the feline gathered the coin up with one hand and rushed to the back.

Mel took a moment to read the paper she'd just picked up. It appeared to be a local paper - which made sense. The town was too remote to run a major newspaper, there wasn't any reliable way to get it there every day.
"Local Man finds Fae-Shaped Potato Chip!" The headline ran, along with a photo of a balding weasel holding a vaguely asymmetrical chip. "Supernatural Forces suspected!"
Underneath that, the second story seemed to be about a strange explosion in the middle of a field. Scorch marks on the ground, and nothing left but a giant hole in the snow.

* * *

Tim was waiting for the cop to give her the go-ahead to leave, but he seemed to be distracted by the golem in front of him. People who tried to be legalistic with police officers tended to get very creative charges applied to them, and Tim hoped the golem's seemingly cold-logic reasoning wouldn't attempt to point out any more flaws in the cop's arguments.

She heard something crunching the snow to her side - a white feline was walking through the snow towards her delicately, staring quite hard at Rover as she approached the smaller gryphon. Her eyes flicked to Tim.
"Um...is this..." she coughed. "I have twenty gallons of hot chocolate in a truck. I was told I would 'know who it was for' when I got here. I guess it's for him?" she said, pointing at Rover. She laughed, disbelief evident on her face.

* * *

"One moment." Andrace heard come from somewhere in the back of the shop. She heard something shuffling around in a room behind the counter, and the lioness used the time to take in her surroundings.
Dozens of kitchen knives dotted the counters, although there was not a stainless steel blade to be seen among them. Wave-patterned steel, blades that shimmered like water underneath the fluorescent lights, most of them inside of protective plastic bags, covered the shelves and walls. Plain beige wallpaper and a wooden floor made up the decor, and white metal shelves. Interspersed among the cutlery, however, were knives that were most certainly not meant for cutting tomatoes. She saw a long, thin knife glittering on the far left wall, and something that looked like two crescents criss-crossing each other on one of the shelves.
  For some reason, he seemed intent on making it look like a cutlery shop. Cutlery shops did not tend to carry exotic knives - what's more, cutlery generally was not sold by itself in a shop of it's own. She could see metal gleaming inside an open door behind the counter - a lot longer than any respectable kitchen knife contained, too.
Her eyes slid towards the shop owner emerging from the back room, wiping his hands on an apron. It was an old badger, gray mixed in with his black and white coloring, smiling amiably. He coughed before he spoke.
"How can I help you?"

As she waited for the shuffler to appear, Andrace looked curiously at the assortment of sharp pointy objects displayed around the shop. She'd never seen kitchen knives apparently made by a master swordsmith before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. She leaned closer towards one particularly nice example, her hands behind her back and taking care not to breathe on the blade. Andrace wasn't as much an expert as others in the Family — Cousin Larna might only have one eye, but she could tell exactly how a sword was forged at a glance — but she knew good work when she saw it. And this wasn't good, it was excellent.

She looked up at the sound of the old badger coming into the front of the shop. "G'mornin'!" she said cheerfully. "Some very pretty work y' got here. I'm lookin' f'r some balanced throwin' knives, somethin' like this if y' got any, but I'm not that partic'lar." Carefully making her movements slow and deliberate, the lioness put her right hand to her left forearm. Her forefinger claw slipped into an almost invisible slit in the sleeve of her jerkin, and she pulled out a small knife. The blade was shaped like a long, narrow leaf, about the length of her middle finger from knuckle to clawtip, and it looked razor sharp. The hilt was just a stub, only big enough for a safe finger-grip on the knife, made of a dull black wood with a roughened surface. "I... ah... lost a bunch o' these a couple weeks back, haven't found anythin' half as good yet."

Aten thanks her and though he didn't show it he feels like shuttering in his fur. even so he made   h is way towards where she said Walter would be. he wondered what she meant about the lady meeting more freely and hoped it wasn't going to end badly for him. stopping outside the door Aten politely knocked on the frame hard enough to be heard but not hard enough to shake the door. he hoped Walter would be willing to help him contact Mel as he was having second thoughts about contacting her grandmother.

Stopping just outside the door, the bat frowned - scowled, actually - back at Jeremiah over her shoulder with a glowing-eyed glare that threw back every one of those emotions at him, sizzling with irritation. For a second, the air was tense with ill intent, and the frog could see her jaw muscles clenching visibly, while the rest of her held still as a statue. A dull, uncomfortable feeling seemed to develop right there and then, faint but right on the verge of becoming something tangible, almost clear enough that he could pinpoint it as a dull pain in his head. And in her mind, Elyse mirrored the feeling, though the pressure on her was from the inside. Frustration pushed on her, trying its damnedest to move the imaginary solid wall of her will and for the moment at least making it bend the slightest bit, but in the end discipline and, by a far greater amount, the knowledge that she would only have actual relief once she was done with the situation at hand won out.
   'I'll come with you,' she said at last, her voice low and tinged half with hard restraint and half with bitter resignation beneath the almost normal tone. Her face had softened, though the glare in her eyes was still there. She would have a headache. 'I'll tell you why later, if you make sure to just stay in line.'
   Turning away and looking down the corridor, ignoring Jeremiah for just a moment, she missed the slight trickle of blood coming out of the frog's nostril.

There was an almost palpable crackle in the air between the Bat's eyes and Jeremiah's more-obviously-artificial-than-the-flavorings-in-your-soda pleasant smile, the frog refusing to look away. It wasn't out of any sort of bravado, he just didn't make the connection between his oncoming headache and Elyse's look.
Damn, grouchy old thing isn't she?
...
What's that on my upper lip? Jeremiah swore and pinched his nose, fishing a hanky out of a pocket and pressing it to his face. "Ah... Very well den, Mahdam." He didn't spare her words too much thought, as he was significantly too preoccupied with the whole matter of his head leaking, but other listeners caught on.
She suspects something, sir.
We established that last night when she got to talking about you lot, Cab. Try to keep up.
Not that, something new. I think we missed something altogether VERY interesting before we got to her room.
Sure, fine. You remember where I left that thing of tissues? I can't seem to...
Jeremiah led onward, still dabbing at his face every so often. Come on now, today will be Good. It started with COFFEE, dammit, today should be GOOD.

Rynkura halted in her steps mid-way to the section surrounded by glass, when she heard the librarian finally speak up in response to her choice.  The tigress glanced back, one eyebrow quirked in thought.  "Ah...brilliant then," she said in a half-mutter.  "Well, if you should get some information back from this Mr. Irisi, would you do well to let me know?  There is no hurry though, take your time.  I am staying at the large hotel down the street, and soon to be up in the Castle for that ball being held there tonight.  The name to call is Mistress Rynkura Msh'taan."

Seems too convenient to not have any information on the place at this time, at least not easily gotten, Rynkura added in thought.  The thoughtful look on her face certainly wouldn't have been lost on the librarian or Gareeku, but it was only there for a little while before she turned her attention back to the nonfiction.  "I certainly hope you find what you are looking for too, sir Manoko," the tigress said with a chuckle.  "I will not be far."

"Well, alright, but don't go out of your way just for me," Esme nodded with a smile of warmth and charity as she stepped down from the carriage, casting her gaze about the castle gate. Attendants, guests, and other varieties of arrivals to Castle Damaske bustled about, generally in the direction of warmth through the gates. Following suit, she crunched through the snow, suddenly reminded of just how difficult it was to walk through the harsh winter storm as she struggled through the wind and flying snow. A mix of frustration and achievement filled her. To have come this far and not get any actual aid would be disastrous. She remembered the driver's advice and did her best to fill herself with hope. Surely they would at least donate something just to feel good about themselves. She shivered visibly as she stumbled through the massive gate, looking for somebody important to ask for further directions.

Mel took a moment to sip the excellent chocolate and glance over the headlines. She smiled a bit at the potato chip headline. While she doubted actual fae involvement it would be just the sort of thing that a fae would find funny. Perhaps she would mention it the next time she had one in conversation. The smaller headline was more interesting. There was one thing a resident of a dimension of snow and ice knew and it was that snow was disinclined to explode and burn. Someone had hidden something in that field. Not having a use for that tidbit of information she merely filed it away.

With her drink gone Mel wandered further down the street, window-shopping and trying to remember if there had been any interesting shops the last time she had been here.

 Despite what Else may have thought, the castle itself didn't seem to react at all as she walked out. The red carpeting was simply that - red carpeting, stained with some dye that didn't smell coppery, stone walls there simply to achieve a gothic effect, and mortared quite firmly in place. The staircase lead very plainly to the first floor, where the first arrivals were milling about. Tables had been set out, with bottles and glasses, and a few wheels of cheese with attendants ready to cut slices.

A few of the staff looked at her, staring for a moment before glancing away and engaging in other business. One, a badger, glanced at her with raised eyebrows, and was about to approach when he was sidelined by a lapine in a blue dress, quite obviously flushed, and asking him very loudly what particular vintage she was drinking and where she could get more.
It gave Else the chance to move towards the door to the outside. She was almost there, when her eye was attracted to something white on top of the stone archway. A note - the letters just barely large enough to make out, and formed as though hastily written with chalk.
"It's a funhouse, a madhouse, a place of magical sin
     But beware you leave nothing behind,
  For if you go out the way in came in,
     The daM doG will swallow your mind"

As though in punctuation, the same little image of a grinning dog sat happily beside the 'd', chalk-powder eyes looking directly at Else.

Something slammed into Else, knocking her over. She saw a flash of salt-and-pepper fur, and a armband with a red symbol on it before she hit the ground.

* * *

The only people outside the castle seemed to be making their way quite hurriedly into the castle - it only made sense to follow. Esme herself was a bit cold, and could do with the warmth afforded of the indoors anyway.

She chose her target as she was walking inside - a rather fat, orange-haired cat, all waistcoat and golden watchchains. He turned to the left in the first hallway, heading towards the doors to the atrium, and Esme made to follow, dodging some slack-jawed albino on her way. She meant to dodge, anyway, but something caught her foot, and sent her tumbling right into their arms.

* * *

The shopkeeper touched the knife carefully, holding it a bit close to his eyes as he examined it. He licked his teeth as he did so, and after awhile nodded.
"It's odd - I requested a dozen butcher's knives just last week, but I received exactly what you're looking for." he said, giving the lioness a blank look. "So odd, as well. Good throwing knives are rare. Why put quality steel and work into a weapon that will inevitably by lost?" he shrugged, and put the knife down. "This is as good as any I have seen."

He disappeared into the back room again, emerging moments later with a wooden box about the length of his forearm. He opened it with a pop, setting the lid to the side, and carefully produced twelve identical knives, leaf bladed and shining like the surface of the water.
"You are welcome to test the quality," he said, "But if you bleed on it, you buy it."

* * *

Nothing particularly popped out at the ice dragon that she hadn't seen before. It was mostly a tourist trap, in any case, although she had a certain inordinate fondness of the haberdasher with the gas-lamp hats on display. They had ways of keeping the felt from catching fire, but it made the sight of a portable streetlamp no less impressive.

* * *

Atem found himself shortly outside of the door the lady dragon had pointed to. Besides the passers-by coming and going, it appeared that no one else was outside of it either.

Atem knocked harder hopping he was not waking the dragon. then the thought that the dragon my be 'busy' entered his mind. he hoped this whats the case as he really need to find the wolf and Mel. Since he had no leads on the wolf the dragoness was his only hope and her grandmother his best leads on his reason for being here and his possible bloodlines.

Andrace's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline at the sight of the matched set of knives the old badger took out of the box. Her only other visible sign of emotion was a quiver in her tail-tip, as if a hunting — or shopping — twitch was being deliberately suppressed, with an effort.

The lioness smiled wryly. "I always write it up as a business expense," she said, "but y' right, it's a pain in th' tail. Someone ought t' do a study o' bandits fallin' off cliffs when y' stick a bunch o' pointy things in 'em. Worth th' bother t' see these beauties, though." She picked up one of the knives, hefted it in the palm of her hand, then she tossed it and caught the hilt between her thumb and forefinger. She looked closely at the blade, cautiously felt the edge and point with a fingertip, then held it up to her ear and tapped the blade with a claw, listening intently to the faint chiming ting. At each step, her look of satisfaction deepened.

Finally she tossed the knife high in the air, its spinning arc almost reaching the ceiling, and caught it again in the same grip, apparently without watching her hand or the knife. "Well, s' far, s' good," she said contentedly, "looks right, feels right, th' weight's right. An' I don't even think I'll need t' adjust th' sheaths I'm wearin'. Y' got a practice target I c'n have a go at?"

Tim blinked. Hot... chocolate? She couldn't be hearing correctly. "For.. him? You're kidding, right? You know what chocolate does to psittacoids, let alone gryphons?" Tim looked at the feline, then shook her head. "I guess not. Try looking up 'theobromine poisoning' sometime. I'd appreciate it if you didn't suggest he could ingest it." Her tone went absolutely flat. "At all." She glanced back up at her huge ward. "At least you didn't mention m- uh, the 'additions', by name. He tends to get a little excited if he hears about those, and you wouldn't believe the mess he made last time..." She shuddered in memory, then shook herself, and returned her remarkably steely gaze to the delivery fur. "So, the questions I have are... who had the brazen balls to send a toxic poison to a diplomatic visitor? Under the very nose of a police officer? Was it brazen, or purely mistaken? So tell me..." She paused for a moment, then her voice cracked like a whip. "Who sent it to him? And why?"


Over her head, the giant nostrils sniffled gently. The giant head turned this way, then that, the giant eyes gently turning to cover everything in range, before centring on the delivery truck. A cheery cry of "Paint!" was followed, almost immediately, by the thump of all four paws leaving the area, and a little later, by the impressive impact they made, rejoining the ground in an almost neat ring around the truck. The slight miscalculation tearing the side panels from one fender in a scream of tortured metal was almost totally overwhelmed by the joyous cry of "MINE!"

Followed, almost simultaneously, by a small voice sighing "Oh, fuck it."

Although she was heading generally in the direction of warmth and comfort, her eyes locked onto a particularly ostentatious dresser. A brilliant yellow waistcoat combined with bright orange fur and lustrous gold chains almost created an eyesore amongst the generally grey and white landscape. That some dressed in such luxury while others starved made Esme's blood boil. Several dozen families could probably eat on the money it had cost just to purchase that single outfit. Her eyes were still locked on the fat cat when she walked smack into another attendee, cursing and falling in a pile of limbs and wings. Disentangling herself from her accidental victim, Esme grasped the albino bat's hand, pulling her up, apologizing profusely as she did so. "I'm sorry madame, I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going." An expression of sincere concern was plastered on her face, despite her initial embarrassment, although she still couldn't keep a waver from her voice as adrenaline rushed through her veins. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

The golem examined the note and filed it away for later, the officer was apparently swelled with his own self importance and drunk with the tiny little power he had been granted as a constable.  The issue would be handled like it always was, no one dared cause international incidents with Xe'Pherion, not even the Fae.

"Duly noted.  Anything else... sir?"

The golem waited patiently to be dismissed, it had all the time in the world.  Long after this officer and his precious town have turned to dust and were forgotten on this world, he would still remain.


Meanwhile...


Kiet had decided to wander about the market in town, do a little daylight shopping.  Camiole had decided to tag along to make sure he didn't try to buy the town.  Camiole couldn't help but wonder what all these strange findings Kiet had found truly meant. 

"What do you think of this 300 piece furniture set?"  Kiet asked.

Camiole shook herself out of her own thoughts and blinked at the older, yet wildly impracticable cubi, "what would we do with all of it?  I swear, if it were possible I'd assume you were half-fae."

"It is quite interesting to analyze one of their unfortunate mistakes... very nice insight into areas one would find disturbing."

The two continued examining the shops, looking for anything interesting.

Even long after she had awoken, Elizabeth found no reason to leave her room yet. She proceeded through her daily rituals both methodically and impatiently: her breakfast was delivered as she instructed it, and once she was finished eating (mostly to enjoy the flavor of the food and to keep up appearances), she quickly made herself presentable by changing into one of the garments she was transporting in her trunk. Once she was finished, she seated herself in the chair next to the entrance to the balcony and stared outside, nibbling on a complimentary mint that had come with her hotel room.

Elizabeth ruminated on the itinerary of the day. The only notable event she was aware of was her scheduled meeting with Tobias, and she still had some time to kill. The idea of simply languishing in her room until something interesting happened didn't appeal to her. Since she was wearing one of her dresses, she decided to leave her room and wander around outside, in the nearby town, until the time to meet her new friend arrived. On her way out the door, Elizabeth snatched up her purse just in case she saw any amusing souvenirs. If she encountered a thug on her way there, she could probably concoct a number of creative methods of evisceration.

Sizzling, keeping her mouth shut with obvious effort, the bat walked on, just a stride and a half behind Jeremiah, while he distractedly poked and rubbed at his face for whatever reason. Even in her worry, she kept hearing his own internal discussion in between her busy thoughts, and became more and more perplexed with it, and irritated with the way he seemed to deal with it. He'd learned to shut out his voices, obviously. But if that meant that he were ignoring them on principle, even when they gave sound advice, or if they were actually pieces of his personality given free will...
   'I think I could go for a cup as well. And I suppose I should stop by the pharmacy. That should take care of my head...' she muttered.
   Someone was messing with her. Intentionally. And while most people would have argued that taking out the irritation on others would have been a bad thing, she thought it only fair actually, considering that the frog deserved a bit of it, and that it gave her at least a semblance of relief.
   It was in the most painful and humiliating manner that this relief was shattered like falling glass. Elyse caught the letters, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to read them, then widening with horror mid-stride. Everything seemed to slow down, yet she was too confounded and caught up in the suddenness of it all that she didn't react. She just felt the horror wash over her. And then, something knocked her right off her feet, taking the wind from her as she uttered a voiceless, surprised gasp. She even banged her head on the floor, even though she curled forward a bit. Her headache broke out in a heartbeat.
   It took a couple of seconds of dizziness and confusion, before the bat sprang up as if she didn't even recognize the other woman helping her, hissing between her teeth and putting a finger to her temple as she staggered forward, dizziness and pain coming on stronger for a second, before she started glaring around. Her eyes locked onto the lynx with suspicious anger that only dissipated when she felt genuine worry coming from the woman's direction.
   'What? What the...?'

Watching the tigress, Gareeku raised an eyebrow. He knew that look. She was suspecting that this seemed to be too much of a coincidence. The wolf had to admit; he too had thought that it was a little change, a little too convinient, but had decided to try to not think about it.

What Gareeku was after was also history related, but it wasn't anything to do with the castle. He was more interested in reading up as much as he could about a lost empire of myth and legend, said to possess some of the most spectacular treasure known to Furrae. The wolf had already seen some of this firsthand, but this time he was interested in a different aspect of this lost empire of legend.

"Excuse me." Gareeku said gruffly to the Librarian. "But do you have any books on the lost empire of Saiyetonia? I wish to do some studying."

Dabbing away the last of the nosebleed with his at-long-last-located hanky, Jeremiah went over what he knew. This woman's agitated, seemingly as a base state of being. Used to being treated rather well, which follows since she's been invited to this sort of thing. Something got to her yesterday, something about bodies...
And something today.
And something today. Jeremiah conceded the point to Cab; the personae was a manipulative bastard, and often couldn't be trusted, but it matched what he was thinking looking back on the incident.
   "I think I could go for a cup as well. And I suppose I should stop by the pharmacy. That should take care of my head..."
Jeremiah blinked. Did she hear him thinking about coffee? He'd already figured out she had SOME sort of extra senses if she'd been commenting on his Condition, multiple personalities wasn't something you picked up on with a GUESS, but if she just casually glommed that off his thoughts... No, this one was too easily a coincidence. Never assume, makes an ass of you and me.
No comment.
Fuck you, Bal. Cab, got anything else on her?
I think some of her ire is you-specific.
No shit. Any idea why?
You were not charitable in your initial opinion of her.
She's a cubi, she's probably used to knowing what people think about her without taking it personally. Isn't it the things that people CONSCIOUSLY do that matters?
Never assume.
Fah. Right, fine. So why drag me into town WITH her rather than just avoid me? Suspicion, spite... She seems smarter than to opt for spite. Which means that, again, one of my problems comes down to you lot making me look bad.
That seems like a bit of an oversimpli-
No it doesn't.
Fine.
The frog finally reached the hall closet and threw on his tweed coat, smiling contentedly to himself. Uniforms tended to make him uncomfortable, but with his coat over it he felt halfway like himself again. The old thing showed signs of wear from over more than a couple generations, patched and stitch here and there with whatever thread had been on hand. He even stood up a bit straighter wearing it.
"Well then, madam," Jeremiah turned and bowed to the bat with the first honestly cheerful grin he'd yet to offer her, "Should I arrange for a coach, or would you prefer the walk?"

It took a bit before Elyse responded. For a long while, she just stared at the letters, growing more hesitant and nauseous by the second. Fear and pain brought back old memories, recounts and images flashing by and thoughts about horrors she had seen realized adding to the speculations already swimming like schools of ravenous piranhas under her mind, biting and nibbling at her concentration and confidence.
   'I'm...' she started, blinking, then turned back toward Jeremiah, for once not with a frown on her face. If anything, she looked vulnerable, which was certainly a change. The look didn't last long though; noticing his expression and feeling his surprise, she corrected it into solid, cold and unemotional plainness.
   'I never was afraid to stretch my legs. I know the responsibility might be overwhelming to you, but for once the decision is yours,' she retorted to the frog. Her eyes then flickered back up to the archway. The letters were gone.
   The hesitation was still there, but she knew she had her answer already, loathing and stubbornness making the choice for her. She would be made no one's prisoner. Tensing the muscles in her leg and back, focusing and stiffening her resolve, she breathed in deeply, and then out slowly, before turning once again to the feline beside her.
   'I'm quite alright, thank you. No need to worry,' she said, in as calm and tolerant a tone as she could manage. It might have been unnerving how her dark, intense eyes never even veered toward the wings on the Angel's back, but at the moment Elyse was too flustered to think about keeping up much of a facade of surprise or general being concern with being faced with a creature. In an instant, she locked her mind's attention on the lynx, catching snippets of irritation and the desire for direction.
   'Are you looking for someone?' she asked, wanting much to be on her way. 'I'd refer you to my companion, but I'm afraid he's a little slow, and busy at the time,' she continued, not dignifying Jeremiah with a look. 'Isn't that right, Igor?'

Though Rynkura was nearly well up into the other room, her sense of hearing couldn't help but capture what Gareeku had inquired of the librarian back down in the entrance hall.  The tigress smiled to herself as her eyes wandered over the different books.  Saiyetonia...the great lost kingdom.  I remember their quest as if it were only yesterday...and imagine what was found right under my monastery...if anyone has the skill to find more of its secrets, I'm fairly certain it would be the two young warriors that I have become so fond of.

The Healer then let her mind wander over the subject, and of the one that she was curious about in the town that they were in, as she often tended to do while kept in the quiet solitude of a library.  The colors of the bindings did little to sate her curiosity...but just as the librarian had warned, there seemed to be nothing on the castle above the town.  "The place itself probably has a library..." the white tiger muttered, nearly giving up on the subject for the time being.  There was still time left for the party, but she wondered if anyone was going to the castle to check it out.

It was then, upon walking out, that her eyes fell on an encyclopedia that was lying open on a table.  She flipped through the large book's pages absently, expecting to find nothing, while making plans in her mind to visit the place soon.

 The door opened quite abruptly, and Atem was forced to step back to avoid being whacked. A green-coated dragon wearing a carefully-tied apron blinked at him, looked down the hall, and looked at Atem again. He adjusted a monocle.
"Can I...help you?" he said, tilting his head somewhat, and frowning, giving a small shake of his head and then continuing on. "Ah...the lady is taking no more appointments today. You may gain opportunity speak to her at the ball, however, when she will be mixing freely with the guests. You wish to speak with the Lady, yes?"

* * *

The badger simply smiled at Andrace. "A moment, perhaps?"

He reached for something else behind the counter, ducking down for a moment and emerging with a rather dingy-looking helmet, complete with a full snout, and the whole affair open on the bottom. He stuck a broom in it, and then leaned the it against the wall, the helmet tilting a bit off and forwards.

"I break, I die." he said, smiling, "But if you break, I will not make you buy. The helmet, I mean. If the dagger breaks, someone has certainly pulled wool over my eyes."

Knives and cutlery gleamed from the walls, casting light and forming sickle-shaped shadows all around.

* * *

"Yeah." the officer said, giving the golem a look. "Next time, please, don't vandalize my wife and son's car." he narrowed an eye. "You've got an eye for the poorer class of vehicle. Go dismantle a porsche if you want, but when you purposely aim for the people who can't fight back..." he paused, his lips pressing together, and he finally swallowed. "Have a nice day, s..."

***

The barista looked somewhat troubled by all this, the feline crossing one arm and grabbing the other as she listened to the smaller gryphon. She tilted her head somewhat.
"Ah...I'm not sure, really. A dragon in really fancy clothing?" she shrugged. "We didn't get a name, really, she just paid us and told us to give...you guys some hot chocolate. I..."

Her eyes bugged as Rover lunged for the truck, and mouth dropped open in horror as Rover ripped off one whole side of her car, the rending of tortured metal making her ears flatten against her head.
"My car!" she screamed, hands poised uselessly in front of her, one eye twitching in helpless anguish as the giant gryphon perched over her vehicle.

The officer, stopping midsentence to look at the commotion, glanced sideways at the golem, paused for a second, and began slowly ambling towards Tim.
"Not a good day for motorists..." he muttered under his breath.

"Now, rubble I can ignore..." the officer said, standing next to Tim and continuing to watch Rover. "But, well, immediate, visible, and wanton destruction is a little harder. I don't think I can let you go quite yet. You two are...?"

* * *

Kiet noted very little of interest among the shops, aside from the generally worthless quality of the goods, and the gun shop that he had frequented the previous night. There were jewelers and coffeeshops and confectionists and watchmakers, as well as enchanters of dubious quality and weapons shops that seemed to sell more kitchenware than actual blades.

* * *

Rynkura flipped the book open, and it fell open to the entry on Figgy Pudding.

Figgy pudding is a pudding resembling something like a white Christmas pudding containing figs. The pudding may be baked, steamed in the oven, boiled or fried.

The history of figgy pudding dates back to 16th century. Its possible ancestors include savory puddings such as crustades, fygeye or figge (a potage of mashed figs thickened with bread), creme boiled (a kind of stirred custard), and sippets. You can sometimes tell I'm coming, swiftly and surely as black death, other times you are succumbing, with no time to catch your breath. In any case, its methods and ingredients appear in diverse older recipes. Serve pudding warm with custard sauce or sweetened whipped cream.

* * *

The librarian frowned again, thinking. "If we did, it would be on Row 12 downstairs, which is the historical section. I'd try ancient history first, and if there's nothing there, there might be something in histories of nations. It's mostly alphabetical by title, so it shouldn't be that hard to find this...Saiyetonia, you said?"

* * *

Elizabeth didn't see much worth remarking upon in town, the shops largely touristy and the merchandise dubious. She was getting rather bored when the dead-end of one particular boulevard brought to her attention a sign that made her blink.
The Hanging Garden Funerary Service

The name could be a coincidence. There had been more than one Hanging Garden, after all...surely there had been.
Why a funeral parlor?

Tim raised on eyebrow at Officer Y'mir. "In trouble," she completed, then buried her face in her hands, and sighed. Lifting her face, she went on. "I'm sorry, Officer. You kinda have to have a strange sense of humour to remain sane in the company of Rover, over there." She waved one wing in the direction of the giant gryphon, who was attempting to look into the now open side of the truck for the half-barrel of "paint" - which was clearly in view, steaming gently on the back of the truck. "He's the diplomatic representative of the Gryphons, and I, for my sins, am his companion." She sighed, again, and fished around in a pocket for the papers she usually carried to extract Rover from whatever he'd done this time. "Whatever sins they were, they must have been heinous, and I most sincerely regret them. Every day, usually..."

She shook herself, and rubbed one paw against her temple, handing over the papers - and the letter. "I apologise for the mess, Officer, but I believe the larger Gryphons are classed, in insurance terms, as an act of God. However, in order to smooth things over, I have been authorised to pay for any damages caused in the process of our particular, ah, diplomatic efforts. Obviously," she turned to the feline "that includes repairs..." A quick glance over at Rover suggested that such might be a vain hope; the large footprint in the panel that had been removed was probably going to give a panel beater the screaming heebie jeebies, just for a start, and the irregular screams of tortured metal that had been going on suggested that the rest of the truck wasn't in much better shape. Tim winced. "Or a replacement, and hire fees to provide you with a temporary truck until a replacement that suits you can be found and delivered. I do hope that that's sufficient; if not, merely ask, and I'll do what I can to resolve it." She sighed, yet again, and turned back to Officer Y'mir. "And, before you ask, I'm in the middle of attempting to extract him," with a shrug at Rover, "from your jurisdiction, and take him up to the castle."

In the background, a joyous cry of "Paint!" suggested that Rover had, finally, found the hot chocolate that was in plain view, and was now looking around for a suitable surface to express his artistic side.

Time winced, again. "A task that seems to get harder every time I turn around." She made a face. "Rest assured, I'm as horrified as you are about this. If not more."

The coat put Jeremiah in a good mood, but it wasn't magic. The collision of cat and bat jerked him out of his pleased state, just in time for Elyse's comments.
"Ah, and what a monster I've been made caretaker of." He grumbled, adjusting his tweed coat slightly before turning to Esme. "And I can spare a moment or so, for one of Castle Damaske's honored guests," he was laying it on a bit thick, as he often did when his professional pride was ruffled. "How may I be of service?"

Andrace smiled and nodded. "Fair 'nough," she said, "all th' same, I'll not be too rough on 'em just yet." She picked up a few more of the knives, arranged them in a fan in her left hand, and sauntered to the other end of the shop, her tail swishing back and forth around her hocks in a relaxed fashion. Someone passing by in the street outside caught her eye for a moment. Someone short, feline and with a long striped tail. Isn't that th' fluffy-tailed shrimp who walked past th' Gryphon last night? she thought. Wonder who he is...

The lioness turned suddenly, her bare paw-pads scuffing lightly on the floor, a look of intense ears-forward concentration on her face, and her right arm blurred into motion. The little knives flashed and glittered across the room, making sharp ringing sounds as they spiked into the old helmet. Two of them were embedded to the full length of the blades in each eyeslit, and the breathing grille at the end of the muzzle-piece now had a hole in it. Level with the hole at the back of the helmet there was a fresh raised dent. Something clinked, and the fifth knife fell out of the bottom of the helmet and clattered to the floor.

Andrace strode across the room, a smile of satisfaction on her face and in the curl of her tail, and bent to pick up the last knife. "Yep, good balance," she said, "good aim, an'... nope, not a chip or nick in th' edge. I'll take 'em." She pulled the other knives out of the helmet, laid them down on the counter, and took a small bulging pouch out of a pocket on the inside of her jerkin.

"How much?"

"Actually i am here wishing to leave a message for her granddaughter Melodie" aten said " we spoke recently and though she did advise that i meet her grand mother well i'd feel better being properly introduced to one of her great stature. " aten pulled out a letter addressed to Melodie. the envelope was sealed but not magically so. "I thank you in advanced for your assistance in  delivering  the letter to miss Melodie " aten said bowing his head as he felt the steward could be trusted to do what he felt was in the best interest of the family he served.

Rynkura had always believed in chance more than fate.  That if things did happen for a reason, maybe one just deserved them.  Coincidence was an easy word for her to use, and would probably always be.  If something strange did happen, it could be easily explained.

That is why she was quite perplexed when she read through the entry that she happened by in the encyclopedia.

In her random flipping, the page had landed on a food item; figgy pudding in particular.  She rolled her eyes and chuckled.  It's nothing on the ancient history of the city or the castle, but perhaps I have a recipe for a food item to bring to the party, she joked to herself.

But in her skim reading, something caught her rather observant eye.  Carefully, the Healer went back over the paragraph until the out-of-place words seemed to go bold-faced in her mind.  "You can sometimes tell I'm coming, swiftly and surely as black death, other times you are succumbing, with no time to catch your breath."

The words were there, seemingly plain as it had been inked on the page.  Her head reared back and cocked to the side, eyes narrowing.  Now that is a far cry from describing figgy pudding.  Is it a misprint?  Or was the author a little disgruntled at the time?  What in the world is the purpose of this?

If the words aimed to disturb, it did so only by a small margin.  She took her eyes off the page and glanced back down the hall behind her, muttering.  "I wonder if I should alert the librarian about this..."

She looked down again.  "Perhaps not...her job is to lend and sell, not to edit.  Still..."

The curious tigress flipped away from the entry and to another one, just to see if similar misprints existed elsewhere.  Meanwhile, one ear swiveled behind her to hear the conversation in the hall; about the time that the lemur at the desk had finished answering Gareeku's question.

The golem had nothing further to say, the officer struck him as the 'people's champion' type without a real cause to fight for.  He had been like that once, but it cost him his life and his body.  Now he was an automaton, locked on land and never to soar in the skies again, except on those rare instances when he is allowed to use the third form.

It, however, decided to do little more than watch the preceding scene, knowing far better than to interfere with a large Gryphon unless absolutely necessary.


****


Kiet made an abrupt stop and turned towards the knife shop, "oh, a sharp and pointy selling place."

"Knives, they are called knives!"  Camiole practically yelled in Kiet's ear.

The ringtail flattened his ears against his head, "names, names, names... why must you seek to label everything?"

Camiole poked the tip of Kiet's nose, forcing him to go cross-eyed to stare at it, "what would you have us call stuff then?"

Kiet stuck his tongue out the side of his muzzle and squinted one eye as he shifted his gaze to the sky, "well... things.  It is what we called everything like 80 centuries ago."

She through her hands up in the air, "Let's just go in already." 

"k... wow, shiny!"  Kiet entered and immediately attached himself to the most expensive and impressive piece in the whole shop, even if that item happened to be a 3 meter iridium butter knife.

Camiole immediately noticed the lack of mental emanations from the large, female feline, unlike the shopkeeper.  She wondered if Kiet had noticed, but he probably did not care even if he had.

Listening to what the Librarian had to say, Gareeku nodded his head in understanding.
"Thank you. I'll check that section out first." the wolf said, before catching what the Librarian had said last. "Yes. Saiyetonia. An ancient kingdom told in folklore and stories, largely believed to be nothing more than myth. Quite well-known, I believe."

 "Amazing." the badger said.

He smiled. "Simply by watching a person, in combat, or in life, you can often tell much about them. Such a steady hand suggests a person at ease with themselves. The calmness of inner fortitude keeps the hands from shaking, which is why the skittish do not make good marksmen." He waved away her bag of money. "Keep them, they are yours. But...indulge me, if you would please." he smiled at her deeper, and inclined his head slightly in a bow. "It would honor me to show you something."

He did not seem to have noticed Kiet at this point, or he was too busy interacting with his current customer to begin with the second one. He appeared to have no help to attended to his customers when he was busy, but anyone who had any business with him would hardly need someone to ask them what they wanted. For all to see, knives glittered in the sunlight.

The badger disappeared into the hallway, and began to ascend the stairs to the right.

* * *

Pages rustled and bent as Rynkura's book flipped open to the entry on Insanity. As she began to read, she found that she couldn't understand the words - as though she was trying to read them through smoked glass or through a mirror. She blinked and rubbed her eyes.
The ink on the page had run together - at first, she thought it was a momentary betrayal of her eyesight, the pages becoming so blurry as to make all the words run together into one black-and-white image. The sudden crisp clarity of a cracked mask caught her off guard. When the crack moved before her eyes to grin at her, she shut the book.

Opening the pages again, however, revealed nothing but blank, cream-colored sheets of paper. Not one word, image, or entry remained in the encyclopedia.

* * *

"Then I'm sure you'll be able to find it, sir." the librarian said, smiling. "Can I help you with anything else?"

* * *

Officer Y'mir scratched his chin. "I...see."

He watched Rover start drawing on the walls with the hot chocolate he'd uncovered from the truck, his expression largely blank. It twisted slowly into a straight-faced, nonplussed squint, and then into a grin of amusement.
"Diplomatic immunity means that matters will be taken up about the graffiti with the consulate. Restitution, I'm certain, will be made." he said. "The truck, though...I just got done laying into that thing over there about destruction of cars. It might make me look bad if I just let you off the hook. But..."

He looked at the tigress currently covering her own eyes, ears getting progressively flatter with each screech of tortured metal. "This is mostly an issue between you and her, and it does sound like you're willing to pay the damages..."

The tigress looked up at Tim, her eyes just a little red. "You'll...replace my truck? Seriously?"

* * *

"A letter for..." Walter paused, and cautiously took it from Aten. "Do you know, Ms. Melodie?" he said, giving Aten a sideways look. "If this is a matter of business, she is not in the habit of taking appointments on the Lady's behalf. But I will give her the letter." he said, putting it inside of his jacket. "Good day."

Elizabeth stopped in the midst of her stride to stare at the sign, seemingly mesmerized for what felt like an eternity. She assessed the sign blankly, her gaze sidling to the nondescript building to which the sign belonged, and scoffed almost haughtily. Whatever tension that lingered in her body evaporated instantaneously. Such nonsense, she thought with a sneer. She had no reason to, but she automatically detested the building, as though its very, blemishing presence in the otherwise innocuous town was an affront to her. There is no comparison whatsoever. No architecture crafted by Being hands will ever equal the majesty of the Hanging Garden.

That should have been the end of that, but Elizabeth felt firmly anchored to the ground. She wanted to leave. The building's familiarity disturbed her and its architecturally inferior visage irritated her - she felt that this meager establishment was nothing compared to the atramentous cathedral nestled in the back of her memory, wreathed with stony flowers. But she still felt compelled to investigate, if only to see what was so intriguing about this fake Hanging Garden. This seemed almost too coincidental... (It did not occur to Elizabeth that the name was not entirely original.)

Nevertheless, Elizabeth abandoned her inhibitions and approached the door. She twisted the knob in her hand, immediately recoiling as though the door was about to disintegrate into woodchips, only to be reassured of its solidity. With that, Elizabeth walked inside with her head held up high.

"No, thank you. I will be fine." The wolf replied with a nod of his head, before turning to walk away. As he approached the stairs to head downwards to the floor below, Gareeku glanced around at the impressive collections of books that the town's library had to offer. He would have to return here to see what else it had to offer sometime.

Having made his way down the stairs, the wolf made his way towards Row 12 as the Librarian had instructed. Sure enough, it was as soon as he had found it had he seen the large amount of history books the place, including ancient history.

Slowly walking along the aisle, Gareeku's eyes scanned spine after spine of the books lining the shelves. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for; books on the mythical lost kingdom of Saiyetonia. Taking one book which seemed to focus on the descriptions of the lost kingdom, as well as the treasures and relics it was said to possess, the wolf sat down at a small table situated nearby and began to read, his eyes scanning the writing on the paper.

Tim nodded at the feline. "Really really. He's" she indicated Rover with a shrug "not the most careful of folk around, so this isn't the first time he's damaged something he shouldn't." She then muttered irritably, under her breath, "Although he's excelling himself this morning," before going on "So there shouldn't be any trouble with that." She paused. "Wait. Graffiti?" She looked back at the officer, who merely pointed.

Tim turned around. Behind her, Rover had pulled out the bucket, and, up the side of the white stone bell tower, painted a large - and impressively detailed - pattern of vines and leaves, blending in with the buildings structure as if it had been there all along. The only slight jar was his signature - a large, muddy brown pawprint - at the bottom right of the structure, about 6 feet off the ground.

"Oh, my word." She glanced, harassed, at Officer Y'Mir. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Officer. He doesn't usually deface buildings; I don't know what could have gotten into him. I'll go stop him immediately."

Before she could leave, however, the officer coughed, politely, and indicated the waiting tigress.

Tim winced. "I'm dreadfully sorry, miss. I almost forgot. Here," and she reached into a pocket, and extracted a sheaf of folded papers, a pen, and a handful of business cards. Flicking through the business cards ("Tim & Rover, Distructions-R-Us, Natural Disasters a Speciality", "Rover and Tim, Demolition Experts", "T&R Havoc Inc", ...) she selected one that read "Rover & Tim", then, under that in slightly smaller font, "Special Envoys of the Gryphon Race", along with contact details, and slipped the rest of them back into her pocket before anyone else could see them. Then she flipped through the sheaf of papers, selected one, opened it to check it was the one she expected, signed it and put the business card in it, closed it again, and put the others away. "This should get you seen to, and helped by, the nearest Gryphon embassy. If that fails, I've put in our card, so you can get in touch with us directly, although I don't expect them to give you any trouble. Is that acceptable to you? I don't wish to rush you, but I really need to go and collar my charge before he does something else..."

She handed over the paper, and glanced back over her shoulder, where Rover was happily decorating the second side of the bell tower with flowers and butterflies...

Andrace's ears and tail-tip twitched as she heard the ting of the doorbell, and the footsteps of two more people entering the shop. She'd heard raised voices outside a moment ago: hopefully they weren't about to bring a screaming argument in with them.

The lioness blinked, her ears and whiskers semaphoring a moment of surprise as the badger said she didn't have anything to pay for the knives. Something very odd was going on here — no-one just gave away top quality work like this for no obvious reason. Not one to look a gift Gryphon in the beak, though, she shrugged with a slight smile and put the money pouch back in her jerkin. It took only a few seconds to pack the knives back in the case and seal it up again, then she tucked it under her arm and followed the badger.

The new arrivals caught her eye as she climbed the stairs. One was definitely the ringtailed cat from last night: little more than half her size, he gazed raptly at the glittering displays like an easily distracted kitten wound up and let loose in a toy shop. The other was an attractive clouded leopard: taller, her head almost coming up to Andrace's shoulder, with a stance and feel to her that screamed bodyguard and very dangerous.

If they were coming to the Masque as well, Andrace hoped they'd have the sense to keep out of her way once she began hunting the TiPaollo 'Cubi in earnest. The cat seemed to be a harmless enough noble nincompoop, but the leopard... she looked as if she might be capable of chewing up Aunt Jocasta and spitting out scraps of bloody fur. The lioness looked up to the head of the stairs, her curiosity poking at her as she wondered what the old badger wanted her to see.

Esme stumbled briefly, struggling with her fallen glasses and blurred vision to bring the picture in front of her into focus. Somewhere along the fall she had bitten her tongue; The metallic tang of blood began to fill her mouth. She swallowed, almost gagging on the strong flavor, and sent forth a cantrip to seal it shut, wobbling, still woozy from the fall. Blinking twice, she stared at the imposing figure before her for a brief moment. A mixture of indignity and politeness was plastered on the face there, unnerving her with the intense eyes that seemed to stare a hole through her. Standing straight and regal, it was clear that she caught the attention of others. The woman's words snapped out of her trance.

"Ah, yes, I am sorry," she managed, doing her best to keep a sense of composure about her. "I'm afraid I'm lost, and I'm looking for where to check in." Esme smiled sheepishly, somewhat embarrassed by both her situation and their recent collision. If she had been watching where she going, she reminded herself, it probably would not have happened in the first place. Running into others and injuring them was certainly not the best way to go about beginning a diplomatic mission. Perhaps if she hadn't been so intent on going herself, they might have sent someone older and more experienced, but for now Esme was going to have to make do with what she had put herself into. "Could you or your friend please direct me there, madam?", she asked in a quiet, polite manner, clasping her hands in front of her anxiously.

Mel's unhurried windowshopping had brought her all the way back to the front of the hotel. Checking the watch pinned to her lapel she decided that she had just enough time for another chapter of her book before getting ready for the wine tasting. Waving cheerfully at Frederick on her way through the lobby she quickly made it to the top floor.

As she tried to read, and found out that she couldn't with every second, Rynkura felt more and more nonplussed.  Her eyes, which had very rarely played tricks on her due to her serious training, were either failing...or something else was amiss.

Especially when the words themselves blurred and formed a face in the middle of the pages.  Rynkura's concentration and focus momentarily faltered, and on instinct, she closed the book with a muffled slam.

Her fingers went to the bridge of her nose in that moment, her other hand pressed firmly on the cover.  "I must still be sleepy," the white tiger murmured.  "But I could have sworn I was fully awake a moment ago."

Regaining her composure, she reopened the encyclopedia, expecting to find the words back in their proper places; inked and pressed to the creamy paper.  But instead, there was nothing.  Completely blank pages adorned the huge book; not even the editor's notes and other fine print remained.  Her curiosity at this point could not be satiated, and nor was she going to be intimidated by illusions.

This is strange...but still certainly not without explanation, she assured herself.  Perhaps...  A portion of her eyes glowed a deeper emerald, and she closed the book again, pressing her fingers to the edge of the pages, flipping them like one would a flipbook.  In her knowledge of enchantment, a good scrying would probably discern whether or not something was amiss.  Even books could be enchanted.

And if she found nothing...well, suffice it to say, she just guessed, it was a thing of the mind and it would just be a good idea to take a break from the searching.

aten nodded and left as the ward seemed quite anxious to be parted of his company. the letter was little more then a thank you a regret that he could not find more on the history of the Valmont  family and wondered if her grandmother had ever mentioned. the also expressed the hope that he would see her at the ball later tonight.

Elyse was surprised enough with the lynx's youthful innocence and gentle mannerisms, jarring when compared to the treatment she had received hitherto, that she lost her composure slightly. Her lips parted doubtfully, as if she wanted to interrupt, and her eyebrows rose, before she took a deep breath and set her face once again. And immediately, as she drew in air, she became aware of a scent. A very familiar one, copperish and tangy. She shivered, and her fur rose, the slight blush that had threatened to break out on her cheeks with consternation earlier now doing so for a different reason. She looked at Esme's lips momentarily, then her hands, then her face once again.
   'I... Excuse me?' she said, looking at the lynx for a moment. She had almost forgotten the girl's thoughts. 'I'm sorry, but I am afraid I would be unable to. And I regret to say I have no friends here either,' she offered, in a far warmer tone than before, tinged with some remorse that would hopefully inspire sympathy. 'However, this thing here,' she continued, indicating Jeremiah with a discrete gesture, 'can take you where you wish to go, if indeed there is anywhere to go. So far, I must sadly say that it seems no one has been allowed to meet any persons of influence or importance.'
   What in the name of The Saints could this girl be here for? the bat thought, simultaneously with her speech. Her suspicion had been triggered again; the woman obviously thought she was a diplomatic envoy as well. But judging from the assortment of individuals that had shown up... Well, it was far more likely she had been called there for an entirely different reason. Well, at least she seems a more reasonable, decent sort than what I've seen so far. Sweet, gentle thing... It might be the right thing to save her from this farce, if nothing else...

Kiet continued to peruse the various implements, waiting for the return of the shopkeeper.

Camiole kept a careful eye on the lioness, her ears swiveled about at each sound, whiskers twitched as she tested the air.  Carefully she made note of the scent, It is best to make note of that one.  Besides her obvious physical attributes, her very demeanor projects an air of danger.  The way she moves, very little energy is wasted... she carries her weight well and gracefully.  Heh, she's sizing me up too... I can't help but admire a true professional.

 

 Andrace followed the badger up the rather narrow stairway - barely wide enough for her to walk without having to twist sideways, and she wasn't sure how the broad-shouldered shopkeeper made it through - up to the shop's second floor. It was apparent that this was the badger's personal living space, as opposed to a part of the shop proper, although it wasn't like any living room she'd ever seen before.
A clean, shining and bare wood floor gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the two massive windows on the far wall. The wall to her right was also bare, excepting for a doorway that lead somewhere she couldn't see, and what looked like a small house sitting on a shelf high above the floor, nearly to the roof.

The right wall, however, was nearly forested in all sorts of gleaming weapons. Daggers, longswords, and all manner of edged weaponry. No cutlery masqueraded as an implement of battle here. It was here that the badger was standing, pulling one and then another weapon from the wall.

"As I have said, you can tell much about a person by certain facets of their behaviour and appearance, and draw certain conclusions without even having to speak with them." he began, setting one weapon - a curved blade, inside of a black-laquered scabbard - paralell to the wall, and turning back to Andrace. A large, golden-hilted bastard sword remained in his hand, the edge politely reversed behind him.
"In your case, I must apologize for not noticing sooner. But you have the characteristics of a warrior about you. Your arm," he said, pointing to the lionesses sword arm, "Is larger than the other. Not so much as to be obvious, but it's something that tends to happen with practitioners. Your stance is another thing. It is one thing to stand imperiously, and another to stand with regard to ability to defend yourself. Your hands, when you took the knives from me" - he gestured how Andrace had grabbed the knives, palms up - "With subtle abrasions and calluses."

He gave a bemused smile. "This was all, of course, more apparent when you put holes through the helmet I myself forged."

"I would like to ask you directly, however." he said, his expression turning once more serious. "You are a warrior, yes? If not that, someone who has found themselves often in battle?"

* * *

The arrangement seemed alright with the Lynx, who despite her distress was more than happy to hear that she wouldn't be out of a car. A barista's salary hardly paid for anything more than liability on her truck, let alone a policy that covered 'gryphon'.

Officer Y'mir blinked a few times as Rover continued painting happily. "You know, if you'd asked first, they might actually have paid him to do all that. He's not bad, for having fingers bigger than my head."

* * *

Rynkura's scrying of the book revealed that the book itself was not enchanted in any fashion - it was just a plain book - but she did run across traces of magic that were rapidly fading from the pages. The feline, versed in light magic as she was, found the magical tracks familiar. They smelled of divine power, something she'd run across before in her studies, but like most such traces, it was too unique to be easily identified.

She found nothing else for several moments - the traces ended at the edges of the book and couldn't be followed any further - and she was about to despair of finding anything else. Her magical search bumped into continued, however - and bumped into...something.
The cracked mask from before flashed again before her eyes, so intense and with such a sound and fury that it knocked the tigress from her chair. Mocking laughter echoed in her skull, and a severe migraine settled on her like a wet blanket.

* * *

With firsthand knowledge, Gareeku didn't read anything that told him much he didn't know about the fabled city already, and in some places he found himself disagreeing with what the text had to say. He'd actually seen the ruins himself, after all.

"A scholar of history, sir?"

Gar looked up, and saw a feline standing at the other end of the table he was sitting at. A black cat, with one yellow eye was smiling easily at him, leaning against the opposite chair.

  * * *

Fredrick scowled at the dragon woman, returning quickly to his reading. He didn't even like the book, but it managed to be so incredibly dry and boring that it managed to dominate one's mind even to the exclusion of the madness that seemed to infect his place of work.

"Look, do me a favor, will you?" Fredrick heard his most ardently hated phrase being spoken to him.

"Why on earth would I do that?" he said drily, flipping a page. Ray looked at him forlornly.
"It's not my fault, alright? You would have had an aneurysm! I...just a little bad, is all. I got somewhat short with them. I think the big one might try and eat me, too."

Fredrick glanced out of the corner of his eye, and pursed his lips. "This from the man who already owes me for not reporting his late shift last Thursday? And Friday. And Saturday. Come to think of it, I can't recall a day you were on time this last week."
"You bastard. You wouldn't...fine. I'll go talk to the big scary gryphon. See if I ever cover your shifts again."

Ray grabbed a scarf and headed out the door, intent on informing Tim that they were not, in fact, being drummed out of the hotel. Probably right before they checked out anyway.

* * *

As soon as Mel returned to her room and opened the door, she found a letter lying on the floor in front of her, with a note in Walter's precise, nearly mechanical handwriting. She picked up the letter and the note.
"Melodie, it read, A very strange young man knocked on your grandmother's door and asked me to give you this letter. The boy looked somewhat daft and possibly didn't know what he was doing, thus I am simply sliding it under your door for your perusal, at your leisure. If it's regarding the family business, please inform Brunhilda she needs to explain family policy to this 'Atem'.
-Walter

As he read, Gareeku frowned with frustration. The book had told him nothing he already knew, but the wolf had to see if there was something else to that city. What had happened a small while ago concerning it had left him with the sneaking suspicion that Saiyetonia held more secrets than it was letting on. A kingdom so riddled with myths and legends surely would.

"A scholar of history, sir?"

Hearing the voice, Gareeku looked up to find a black feline standing at the opposite end of the table which he was sitting at, leaning against the chair just in front of it and smiling at him.

"...I suppose you could call me that, yes..." the wolf replied, leaning back in his hair somewhat and folding his arms. "It has deeply interested me as far as I can remember, after all. Though this book isn't really shedding any new light on what I already know. Can I help you with anything?"

As it was wont to do, Rynkura's determination kept her busy as she kept scrying the book, inch by proverbial inch.  She was curious as to why, though there was surely something there, that the encyclopedia's signature was rather normal.  But still those small traces of magic picked at the edges of her consciousness like bugs that picked at a large piece of food, scurrying away when they were sure to be caught.

To the nature of the magic, the angel's glowing eyes narrowed.  What sort of divinity was this, to play mind games with the enchanter?  She knew of nothing that had this kind of ability, or at least, she had forgotten if there was.  Then, when she believed she found it...

"AH!"

The tigress's search and the magic stream ended with an abrupt screech in her ears and in her mind, causing her to actually lose her balance and fall backwards, only barely catching herself with her arms and letting the rest of her body fall off the chair.  For a moment she looked only like a vulnerable middle-aged woman that had been struck by something, one hand cupping her forehead.

The laughter faded, and so did the imagery of the cracked, maniacally grinning mask.  "By the blood...!" Rynkura cursed, immediately bringing herself back to her feet with the help of her staff.

Still holding her head, she looked at the book...or rather, glared at it.  It looked like a simple tome for what it was worth, waiting to be picked up by the next person.  Still, questions ran through her mind.  What trickery was that, and how was it able to surprise  her?

The headache persisted, and so she made the decision to not touch the thing again unless necessary.  Were the book hers, she would have had it further looked at; short of destroying it.

Curiosity shocked the cat... Rynkura growled to herself and headed out of that glassy nook and back to the front desk.

If the lemur looked up, she would notice the tigress coming down, still with a hand to the side of her head and a serious look in her eyes; like she had been caught off-guard by something.  "Miss, are you perhaps aware that one of your books was cursed?"  She asked the librarian in a dry tone.

"No." the black cat said, his expression unchanging. "You can't help me with anything."

He continued staring at the white wolf, his one yellow eye blazing with intensity. "You should leave. Today."

* * *

The librarian cocked her head at Rynkura, her eyes skeptical, and lips pressed together with the expression of every employee about to deal with what they suspect is an idiot customer.
"Excuse me?"

She swallowed. "It's...what? Do you have the book?"

"Right...ok then..." Gareeku commented after hearing the feline's inital replied, his eyes turning back downwards to read the book on the table. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to study alo-"

"You should leave. Today."

Though his head did not move from where he had been looked at the book, the wolf's eyes moved upwards, looking back at the male feline who was still standing there. "...Excuse me?"

Slowly, the lupine rised from his chair to stand, his hands still planted on the table. Staring right back at the feline's single yellow eye which was blazing with intensity. Unflinching, Gareeku's deep blue eye's narrowed with suspicion, a grim look on the warrior's face. "And why the hell should I...what do you know..."

Atem shook his head as he mad his way outside of the hotel. seeing the steward had some how thrown him off his guard as much as when the wolf Cogidubnus  spotted him spying on Mel.  he wondered half lost in thought wondering if Mel would read his letter. how would she respond? he could not find anything to clear up who this Luna that Cogi had mentioned was but he'd suspected some connection to the goddess of the moon in old lore. Atem stopped short shaking his head as he wondered if he really should deal with this now or just run away. He felt something warm almost directly in front of him the warmth out of place in such a cold place. Thinking he'd found a building other then the library he look up to see a tree?  looking around he realize that the tree in front of him was actually a huge leg! he some how walked past what was left of the stables barely noticing the destruction. Perhaps he'd meant to go to the library again but if he did he never made it. Now, looking up the leg he saw what it was connected to and felt dizzy.  huge freaking huge . a griffin was sitting on it's houches before him looking at the scene before him. he stepped back wondering how it had gotten so close with out an alarm being raised. then he remembered the griffin at the train station. was this the same one?

edited again for horrible grammar. image scenting a scene.

Rynkura hadn't seen the look that the librarian had given her yet.  She was speaking with her eyes closed, one hand still holding her forehead as she replied.  The tiger could still hear the skepticism in the lemur's voice, and her reply was a mutter, though sincere.

"No, I don't...I'd rather not touch that thing again."  She sighed.  "It was your encyclopedia volume on the table back there.  I was only flipping through to two entries.  The words suddenly blurred together on the pages...and then when I closed it again, the pages were blank, all of them...and then, it...well, you could probably hear the noise in there.  I wouldn't fall over and take the chair with me, had I not been shoved.  I had a vision of a cracked mask..."

That was when her eyes opened again, looking into the face of the librarian...someone who was surely not going to stand to believe the ramblings of a middle-aged looking woman.  Rynkura's emerald eyes narrowed...but she kept her voice level.  "I am a healer and an enchanter.  I know a curse or a trick of magic when I see it.  I'll fetch the book so you can see for yourself.  Wait here."

Rynkura's eyes narrowed then, as she turned and walked back to the table where the book was surely sitting.  Her ears were pinned against her skull, but she assumed a state of quiet meditation as she went.  Her fingers were against her brow, letting her frustration seep into the curiosity of what exactly it could be.  The staff, with it's warm blue healing glow, was clutched closely.

I WILL find out what's going on, the tigress silently promised herself.  Because after close to a century of life, beating back every puzzle I've encountered, I CERTAINLY didn't come to be made a fool of.

Andrace suppressed a sigh of relief as she squeezed through the stairway without leaving behind any scraps of her clothes... or fur. Once she was in the room above, though, she almost ignored the rest of it, her attention drawn to the array of weapons along one wall. She didn't bother to hide her gasp of delight as she noted the quantity, and quality, of the glittering display. Her ears perked up when the old badger started speaking. He doesn't miss much, she thought. Got me pegged, at least.

She cocked one ear and spread her whiskers with a dark-humoured smile. "A warrior when I need t' be," she replied, "but that costs more 'n most want t' pay. I'm an advent'rer, th' name's Andrace Kithara. An' if y' heard o' us, I'm one o' th' Kithara Pride. Heh — an' I got a couple o' cousins an' aunts y' couldn't get out o' this room wi' a crowbar. I just use what works f' me, they're th' masters o' th' Family when it comes t' ironmongery."

There was a sudden silence between Elyse and Esme, their eyes locking together as Elyse struggled to find the appropriate words to continue their conversation with. The bat-woman's eyes now lacked the crippling intensity they previously had, instead seeming to search Esme's body for something as Elyse attempted to regain her previous stature. The young angel scanned Elyse's face for some indication of illness or possible disease, the healer within her coming to the fore. If an albino could be pale, Esme would not doubt that this was a crystal clear example of it, although the slight tinge on the woman's cheeks seemed to betray something else. A surge of concern flared in Esme's eyes.
   "Are you ill, miss?", she asked softly, taking a slight step towards the larger woman. "I am a medical officer if you have need of one," she motioned, passing a finger over the brilliant red cross on her upper arm. Cocking her head curiously, she backpedaled slightly as Elyse suddenly seemed to remember where she was and what she was going, snapping the both of them back to reality. "Well, I suppose you won't have to worry much about friends if you let me accompany you. I'm afraid I know nothing of this place," Esme replied, rubbing her arm sheepishly. "I don't have much influence either," she chuckled. "I'm not even fifty yet. But forgive me my manners. I am Esme Broussard of the First Belgaen Medical Corps." She extended a small open palm in friendly greeting.
   Strange, Esme thought. The difference between the proud, tall woman and the confused one was quite grating. She hoped that she had played little part in it, as it took quite a shock to offset a person of such confidence. Just who exactly was being invited to this ball anyways? There seemed absolutely no sane reason to invite such a young unimposing Creature as herself, and she had certainly not recognized anyone of fame yet, although that could be simply attributed to her own lack of world scaled knowledge. Her inquisitveness grew. Perhaps this woman she had quite literally run into could shed some answers.

"Er...what?"

Oh dear. the librarian thought, keeping her suspicions to herself and keeping her face carefully controlled. Bartholomew ran into one like this last year, said that the police eventually had to use 'sweet dreams' munitions to resolve the situation. Isn't that why they installed the panic buttons? Her mind wandered to the red switch underneath her desk that would send a silent alarm to the authorities. This one didn't...-look- dangerous so far, though. Not like she was about to attack her, anyway.

* * *

The cat convulsed at Gareeku's words, shuddering and doubling over slightly while giving the wolf a hateful glare, his disheveled hair faling just slightly over the yellow eye.

"I know more than Apollo," he said, falling quickly into a sing-song voice, "For oft while he lies sleeping, I've seen the stars at bloody wars in the wounded sky-arch weeping-"
The cat's eye glazed. Gar wondered if it had always been bloodshot. He shuddered again, and the look of hatred returned to his eyes. "By a knight of ghosts and shadows, ye summom'd are to a tourney. Ten leagues beyond the wide world's edge, methinks, it is no journey."

The cat twitched again, and ran.

* * *

"I have met many who seek fine blades, and consider themselves experts on forms and types of steel." the badger said, the end of the sword in his hand resting on the wooden floor. "People far more knowledgeable than I, who can tell at a glance the temperature at which I have quenched the blade, and the number of times struck with a hammer."
He shook his head. "There is art there, I suppose, in the knowledge of fine blades. But these are not warriors."

He looked Andrace in the eye. "Iron is useful only so much as it accomplishes its purpose. They are instruments of death. A poor blade, a fine blade, it doesn't matter. Well, it matters - but the hand it rests in is really what matters. You understand this."

The blade in his hand spun, the badger swinging it in a lazy circle until it stood upright in his hand. The hilt was a burning bright golden that shone in the sunlight, a double-guard hilt of some brass or gold with a handle wrapped in some soft red leather, with ample room for two hands to grasp it. The blade itself, however, drank in the light, a dusky charcoal color that did not gleam.
"Some blades are more effective than others, some so not because of the edge. I am...getting old." he said, his expression odd - he'd brought up the subject at an odd time, in any case. "To be honest, you are the first person of any worth that's ever walked into my shop. Nobles, collectors, and the occasional student of esoteric and ultimately useless arts, but never...a warrior."

"I'm speaking oddly. I apologize." he said finally. "Before I make any more a fool of myself then. I did not forge this blade, but I want you to take it. I think you might find it useful, and its presence here weighs heavily on me."

The bat seemed to hesitate for a moment, before she made a small half-thing between a curtsy and a bow, her right hand on her heart. Golden jewelery tinkled lightly as she moved. The movement was a reflex, and as she rose she seemed surprised at Esme's offered palm. She almost frowned, then took the offered hand, clasping it slightly without shaking it. Obviously, she wasn't used to handshakes.
   'Elyse Donovan, of the Corinthean Gathering of the church of The Martyr's Blood,' she responded. Her free hand made a little gesture of some sort at her side, reflexively. 'And I am fine. Just feeling a little impatient, I must admit.' Why speak of one's age just like that? It didn't seem like a touchy subject with her... 'These... pleasantries seem far to much a distraction to me. I am used to less delays before attending to business.' She gave the lynx a little jaded look, and hushed her voice slightly. 'Tardiness is a sin, after all, no? Proper decorum must be observed, of course, but somehow I can't help but feel that this is all we have seen of it. And at the wrong time, at that...'
   'Vell, patience is a virtue,' a voice next to them responded, suddenly, dryly, together with the clap of a book closing. It was partly distorted by the presence of something being chewed by the speaker. 'Perhaps if you vait, you will find it vorth it, hm?'
   A frown on his face, a dark brown rat peered at the group from the side, a slight note of disapproval in his black eyes, that took them in from over a pair of round pincher glasses. He held a bound old book, pressed to his hip under a copy of a newspaper, and a toothpick, upon which had sat a hors d'ouvre until a few moments ago.

Mel picked up the letter from the floor, reading Walter's note first. She remembered Atem as the grey feline who had questioned her about the ball in the restaurant the previous evening. She opened the letter and read it through. She chuckled a bit at the question about the Valmont family. It appeared as if the young man was trying to get information without going through proper channels. As she knew nothing about any Valmonts it wasn't like she could tell him anything anyway. She would pass the message on to Brun before they got to the castle. If Atem wanted information he'd have to go to grandmother.

Rynkura sighed as she took her time walking up to the area, hearing the nonplussed reply that the librarian made behind her.  Trained as she was, she could easily tell between an "Oh my god" and an "I don't believe you."  The Healer tried not to let it get to her...after all, she was much more calm than what she had gone through.

Still, what had happened was quite a shock.  By now she was starting to wonder if it was indeed all in her head.  Fatigue from the traveling.  Rynkura's ears returned to their normal position...if she went on about the things she'd seen, they would probably have her thrown in an asylum.  The angel could fight off multitudes if she had to...but hopefully it wouldn't come down to the authorities.

Then she spotted the book on the table again.  Just an ordinary encyclopedia to her eye, and to everyone else.  "Hrm," she grumbled.  "I wonder if it will even be worth taking it...I certainly am not used to anyone holding me in disbelief."

She shrugged and reached out to take the book.  It is worth a try.

Encyclopedia under the crook of her arm, she returned to the librarian's desk with a calm expression on her face, and also with a friendly nod, proffering it.  "Here, the book in question," she said with a sigh.  "I have doubt that you will find anything, but being a magic specialist of a fair number of years, I am simply curious as to why something like that would happen to someone, a book attacking one's mind," she chuckled.  "And I do apologize if I sounded rude.  My own librarian would not have questioned me, and I've forgotten that I am not back home."

The tigress leaned herself against the desk and waited for a reply.  Hopefully her calmer demeanor would set the librarian's mind at ease about the white stranger with a staff.  After this fiasco, I may just go find young Gareeku and see if he's found anything.

Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the feline in front of him, Gareeku watched as the cat's look turned into a hateful glare. The wolf did not move, watching as the feline's single eye glazed as he spoke in a sing-song voice of what was very likely some sort of riddle.

It was then, however, that once he had finished speaking and the hateful glare returned, the feline turned and fled.

Gareeku had been ready, his muscles being tensed while the feline had spoken. Leaping over the table, the wolf sprinted after the stranger, running as fast as he could and following the feline's every step. He wasn't about to let this weirdo get away that easily.

Andrace hid a smile at what the old badger had to say about "experts". True, her cousins Eleni and Niko had never been members of the Pride; they'd only had the same basic weapons training given to everyone who lived on the Kithara estate. And her great-aunt Sophia's time in the Pride was long before she'd been born: unlike many of her other relatives, Andrace had never seen her fight at all except for a few times in the training arena. It looked like the badger might have a point.

She narrowed her eyes and her ears cocked the other way, though, when he held up his odd-looking sword. "Y' want me t' have it?" she said, a little doubt clearly audible in her tone of voice. "It's not cursed, or talks t' y', or anythin' weird like that, is it? Looks like somethin' one o' m' sister Despina's friends might've stuck an enchantment on. Don't want t' sound ungrateful, but... ah... an' what d' y' mean by its presence weighs on y'?"

Hoo boy, the lioness thought, this's beginnin' t' sound like one o' old Mad Stephan's yarns. But is it one endin' wi' rainbows an' fluffy Mows, or wi' th' poor inoffensive wolf gettin' herself chopped up by th' creepy kid in th' red cloak?

Esme suppressed her surprise at the slight half-curtsy, clearly unused to the higher habits of greeting and conversation, not that such a thing wasn't already evident. Elyse's half-hearted grip told her as much about the tall bat-woman regarding simple direct manners of speaking. Internally, Esme shrugged. She simply had no use for tradition that got in the way of her business. Obviously the ceremony and decoration that these people were accustomed to would take some getting used to.

"Glad to meet you Miss Donovan," Esme said politely, noting the strange shape Elyse made at her hip. Perhaps it was a religious symbol regarding her church, but it didn't particularly matter. She smiled upon hearing that she was not the only one ithat lacked the patience for all of this courtliness and civility, preferring instead to take direct action. The thought piqued Esme's curiosity. She herself had her own business here, but what was this woman's? Maybe she was here out of chance, but from the woman's mannerisms and bearing, Esme doubted it. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the appearance of a third figure who was evidently intent on giving a brief lecture to her new associate. "Ah, welcome, I don't believe we've met," Esme introduced herself warmly, turning to face the short rodent.

 The feline, moving with surprising speed, whipped around a corner and into the main lobby of the library. Gar followed just seconds after, the white wolf moving with the martial prowess that years of training had bestowed on him. No chairs or tables remained for him to leap over, however - at least, none that would matter.

The cat was gone. As though he'd vanished into thin air. There was nowhere for him to hide - there weren't any stacks in the lobby to hide behind, just open spaces lit by large windows and glass doors.

He noticed Rynkura speaking to the librarian about a book, but nothing else that might give him a clue as to the odd stranger's location.

* * *

I'll bet she wouldn't. the librarian said, peering over her spectacles at the book that Rynkura handed her. It seemed to be a very simple encyclopedia - A through I, nothing particularly out of place with either the binding or the title. She cracked open the book delicately.
Various entries on differing subjects greeted her eyes. She peeked up at Rynkura, and as to not appear disrespectful, simply opened the book carefully and naturally in front of her. She looked up at the tigress.
"Could you, maybe...describe how it attacked you, ma'am? Was there a...questionable article, or maybe something you don't feel comfortable discussing or reading about...?"

* * *
The badger grinned, a surprising bloodthirsty grin. "Frightened of a blade?"

His expression sobered as the grin faded. "No. It does not speak. It is cursed, only as much as power itself is a curse. But there is...more than iron in this blade."
He sucked in a breath, his eyes closing. "When they pulled the iron from the depths of the earth, the miners claimed that there were whispers in that darkness. When it was brought to forge, only their strongest smith, the master-forger who was my ancestor an untold number of years ago, could hammer it, and it is said that the iron bled on the anvil when struck. When it was shaped, it was said to be quenched in the blood of a dying god." He looked to his side, at the small shelf on the opposite wall. "I do not know the truth of this story, but there is a nick in the blade - " he turned the sword so the edge was more visible to Andrace, and she could see the tiny chip near the base of the sword - "that I have never been able to repair. I cannot bring my forge hot enough to soften the metal."

He held it out for Andrace to take. "It weighs heavily on me, as I am the last of my family. I had no brothers, no sisters, and I have no sons or daughters. When I die...it's likely that some collector or someone who does not understand the responsibility of such things will end up with it. For, there is much to be responsible for in a weapon like this. Hold it, and you have the eyes of death," he said, his voice odd, "and with it, you can see the End of All Things." he said. His expression was twisted strangely as he spoke, both fearful and insistent.

* * *

Dark mahogany paneling, waxy greenery and ostentatious lighting greeted the succubus as she entered. Elizabeth was surprised to find the shop occupied - funeral parlors seldom were, excepting when...

There was a viewing going on, yes. Strangers turned around to look at her, and then turned back towards the front. Some milled about and talked with each other, some smiling and joking and others in tears, as often happens when families meet to pay respects to the deceased. Short-lived beings ignored the specter of death, or they simple became overwhelmed by the pathos of it - when someone close dies, it brings that specter even closer. Death seldom weeps for the lost - to draw forth those iron tears had been done but once before.

* * *

LL sat in her room, playing with a salamander in her hand. The little lizard flitted this way and that along her fingers and her arm, sometimes twisting all the way around and chasing himself in a circle around and about. The flaming creature left little pathways on her pale skin, and she giggled as Walter entered the room.
"It always does tickle so. Is something wrong, Walter?"

Walter shivered. "Nothing, milady. The morning is growing late, however - are we expecting to leave for the early festivities, or shall I simply cancel our travel arrangements?"
LL got up, putting the little lizard in a round, pumpkin-shaped bowl. The lizard skittered around the bowl a few times, lighting the glass-orange bowl for a moment before its fires died down.

"We'll leave shortly, I suppose. Be sure to send someone to fetch Melodie." Walter nodded. His gaze flickered to Icabod, the little lizard now curled up on his Asbestos bed hidden in the bowl.

It did always bother him when the mistress did that. The thing might be good for keeping the tea warm, certainly, but...

* * *

A few minutes later, Melodie heard a knock her her door, in that particular and rather familiar cadence that threatened to burrow inside one's mind and not leave without a crowbar. Icewing business, she guessed.

Rynkura turned her eyes to the book as the librarian flipped through it.  Yeah...that's what I thought, the tigress surmised as soon as she saw that the text inside was back, seemingly, in its proper place.  Every detail left checked and accounted for.  Something wants to toy with me.  But I won't have it.

She glanced up to the lemur again as she inquired as to the nature of her mental attack.  The tigress decided to answer her questions honestly, no matter how much she guessed that perhaps the young citizen just wanted to get back to her job.

"I remember it perfectly," she said.  "I was just randomly flipping through the pages, after figuring out that perhaps the information on the castle I sought after wouldn't be in there either.  It landed on the entry on figgy pudding...and while glancing through the paragraph, I saw this strange passage.  'You can sometimes tell I'm coming, swiftly and surely as black death, other times you are succumbing, with no time to catch your breath.'" she quoted, eloquently as a teacher who recites poetry in practice.

After that, she relayed again what happened afterward...the blending of the words, the disappearance of the text, the appearance of the mask...and eventually what caused her to fall backwards out of the chair.

"You may not find it if you looked, I wager," Rynkyra confessed as she finished, putting her fingers to her forehead again as she finished.  "Oh, this headache...anyway, it's quite curious.  I do wonder...has a similar thing happened before?  As a healer, I'm..."

Before Rynkura could finish, she whipped an ear towards where she heard the sound of rushing feet.  It stopped where Gareeku was frozen, who had returned to the main lobby with what seemed like a rather urgent look on his face.  The tigress raised her other hand and waved.  "Hail, sir Manoko," she smiled.  "Is something amiss?"

Gareeku looked around, confused and frustrated as shown by his grimace. The feline he had been chasing was nowhere to be seen. How could he have just disappeared into thin air like that? Invisibility spell? No...there wasn't enough magical residue in the air. Had he been imagining what had just happened? No. He couldn't have. It all seemed so real.

Damn it... The wolf cursed in his mind, thinking back to what the feline had said to him. Well this certainly makes this little trip more interesting...

"No..uh...everything's fine." Gareeku replied to the mistress' question, but his facial expression, a grim look, told otherwise. He didn't feel comfortable talking about it in front of the Librarian, who would probably think he was crazy.

"Why did you ever buy that thing?"  Camiole spouted exasperatedly.  The pair had left the shop and continued on in search for interesting items in the shops.

Hefting a gleaming 3 meter long iridium butter knife proudly over his shoulder, Kiet merely smiled.  His demeanor hid a slight worry that lurked at its edges.  He had easily sensed the expert mind shielding, and the way the lioness caries herself.  The shopkeeper also was a good judge of skill and capabilities and Kiet did his best to hide any skill he might possess.  After all, it was important that others viewed him as just another noble twit.

"It is necessary to keep people off balance, when it comes to being me.  It is important that others think I am a mere aristocrat.  The currency I left behind was the full asking price based on this tag."  Kiet indicated the small red piece of paper attached by string to the handle of the strange implement, "the gold is enchanted so that only the shopkeeper can pick it up and make use of it."

They continued their shopping before retiring to the hotel suite to get ready for the reception.

   

Andrace's whiskers twitched as she snorted quietly. "Say cautious, an' y'll be nearer th' mark," she said, "We've had experience o' cursed blades, an' ones that seemed t' be cursed. Didn't end well, sometimes." She listened impassively to the badger's tale of how the sword was forged, her only sign of emotion a silent tap-tapping of her tail-tuft against the backs of her hocks as it flicked from side to side.

Her ears perked up at attention, though, at his last sentence. Her fur bristled, and the hackles at the back of her neck stood on end. She put the box of knives down on a side table, then reached out and carefully took the sword, trying first her usual one-handed grip, then a variety of two-handed grips. Andrace raised her eyes to look at the badger, a grim smile on her face. "Weird-lookin' it might be," she said, "but this might be one o' th' best weapons I've ever held in m' hand." The lioness gradually relaxed, no longer looking as if she were ready at a moment's notice to throw the sword away if it did anything uncanny, or even eldrich.

At the knock on her door Mel looked around her room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She had changed to a pale blue cocktail dress for the art show and her gown for the ball was repacked and ready for transport to the castle. Her armful of bracelets jingled softly as she opened the door.

For whatever reason, Elyse blinked, and then her expression shifted, slight and tightly held back notes of suspicious apprehension entering it. Gazing down at the rodent and his peering eyes, his immaculately trimmed white goatee that contrasted his almost black fur, it was clear that something about him bothered her as well. Then again, from what they had seen of her thitherto, most anything surprising might be upsetting to her. It was too early to draw conclusions.
   'Neither do I, aktually,' the rodent answered Esme, then just continued as if he had either not listened to her statement, or didn't understand what it meant. 'I must say, such an amuzing collection ov people. You agree, ja?' he rambled, and looked around at the assorted visitors. 'I vas told zat there vould be assorted dignitaries, but I vas not prepared for such reichlich... how do you say... diversity? Mmm...'
   Watching the rat frown and peer around, Elyse stared for a moment in disbelief, then looked to Esme again with a gaze that spoke 'just don't bother...'.

Tim raised an eyebrow at the officer. "If he'd asked first, I would have stopped him. And if I could get him to reliably draw like that, we'd probably make more than enough to cover the damage he causes. The key word there is reliably; usually he just draws smiley faces." She made a face.

Behind her, Rover noticed the orange striped feline, gibbering by his foot. He crowed "Brush!", reached down and grabbed the poor Being, dipped it in the now somewhat cooler hot chocolate, and promptly used him to draw a giant smiley face on the third side of the belltower; not visible from where Tim and Offiver Y'Mir were standing, it included spikey hair along the top, and several refreshes of his "brush".

After which, he placed the poor fellow back where he'd been, and bounced around to the fourth wall, before discovering that he'd run out of hot chocolate, and slouching - insofar as a 30 foot high creature can be said to be slouching - back to Tim.

Who was doing a little gibbering of her own.

"Have you quite finished, you big goof?"
"All gone." This in disconsolate tones.
"Yeah. We should be gone, too. Before anyone, like this officer here, sees what you've gone and done, and arrests you for damaging buildings." This in heavily sarcastic tones.
"Oh. Okay!"

With that, Rover cheered up, and leapt over their heads, and back to where the stable had been, to land next to the container, one paw resting on it.

"Go now?"


Tim turned to the officer. "May we? Before he gets bored and finds something else to do? I promise I'll come back when... er... when I can find somewhere safe to park him, and sort out any remaining issues. In the short term, we'll be heading up to the castle; hopefully I can drop in after the ball?"

the chocolate covered feline   stood  rubbing chocolate away form his eyes. he looked there was a smaller griffin next to some one in an officers uniform he looked between the small griffin and the larger one. then decided he'd probably be best heading back the way he came. still his had a stubborn streak that prevented him form letting it go that easy.  walking to the officer and the griffin he hear the words ...."in after the ball?" and shook his head bemused.

"hello sorry to bother you but i need a little help before i become a chocolate covered stature." he said knowing that in this cold the chocolate  would stiffen up in a matter of minutes. 

QuoteDark mahogany paneling, waxy greenery and ostentatious lighting greeted the succubus as she entered. Elizabeth was surprised to find the shop occupied - funeral parlors seldom were, excepting when...

There was a viewing going on, yes. Strangers turned around to look at her, and then turned back towards the front. Some milled about and talked with each other, some smiling and joking and others in tears, as often happens when families meet to pay respects to the deceased. Short-lived beings ignored the specter of death, or they simple became overwhelmed by the pathos of it - when someone close dies, it brings that specter even closer. Death seldom weeps for the lost - to draw forth those iron tears had been done but once before.

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, to the extent that she ignored any and all similarities this Hanging Garden shared with the one native to her home. She was expecting something a lot more dramatic or something so outrageously lackluster that she could openly complain about it, not a bunch of Beings with their contagious sadness weeping over... something. Deceased relatives, most likely. The tremendous, asphyxiating output of sorrow permeating the air was almost choking; Elizabeth hated it. Despair was never one of her favorite emotions, especially not when such infectious emotions were starting to affect her. She watched, out of the corner of her eye, one of the most aggrieved families among the assembly share in what appeared to be devastation.

Come to think of it, her family never received a proper funeral.

Elizabeth shuddered bitterly and clamped her teeth shut, promptly restraining her emotions. Yes, this goddamn blasphemous effigy of her precious, most holy Hanging Garden of the Jyraneth was starting to affect her on more levels than just initial disgust. This disturbed her. Elizabeth was about to turn away and stalk out of the Hanging Garden, but something compelled her to remain. At least to investigate slightly. There were a few Beings who were laughing, and this did not provoke contempt within her, just curiosity. She wanted to know how someone could be happy when they lost a loved one, considering her entire family had been obliterated in a day's time.

Esme eyed the short rat with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort, shifting slightly. Whether it was the strange way the rat seemed to regard, or rather disregard her, or his rather queer penchant for observing others, something about him made Esme feel rather uncomfortable around him. "I suppose we'll meet again later, I still need to get get a room for myself," Esme said softly, turning and motioning for Elyse to lead her somewhere, whether it was actually to the reception office or not, clearly hoping that she would in fact never meet the rat again.
There was one thing she could agree upon with the rat, and that was that there was most certainly an interesting array of characters attending this ceremony. Specifically ones such as him. Perhaps if she wasn't so offset she might feel compelled to try and learn more about the event from him, but she doubted he would do much more than ramble anyways. As she walked away, she locked eyes with Elyse and gave her a knowing look from behind her glasses.

Turning after Esme, Elyse caught the lynx with a tap of a finger and a quick couple of words.
   'Excuse me...' she said, frowning momentarily at the rat before turning to address Esme proper. 'I might be able to help. Me and perhaps also this thing that seems to have latched on to me.' She kicked and scraped her shoe against Jeremiah's pants slightly, as if she were wiping off something filthy. 'We too are looking for some... clarity in the matter. And I think that it might help, the more people who are with us.'
   The bat offered no hints, gave no clues, and her tone remained casual. Yet her look hardened as she offered her suggestion, and her eyes spoke of far more seriousness than the rest of her indicated. For the bat herself, it wasn't just the fact that she'd had a quick reconsider. It was the fact that Esme was obviously a normal, sane, objective person. A perfect barometer thus, for whatever insanity might take place in her surroundings. And then there was just something...
   Then again, at the last thought, Elyse realized that she might just be hungry. Swallowing as she recalled the coppery scent, she looked around at the platters being carried around. A quick snack...

 The blade did do something eldritch, and quickly.

The blade, as had been mentioned, did not sparkle in the sunlight. It was black, the black of charcoal and ashes rather than shining obsidian or polished ebony, and as she shifted grips and stared at the sword, she found the edges of her vision blackening. Not entirely - fading, going gray. She tried to let go of the sword, and rapidly found that she could not.

It continued until everything had been washed in that colorless filter, everything shades of darkness and light, except for the blade itself, which drank in the colors near it like a vortex, disturbing the air and images around it into useless, unrecognizable slurry. The blade shone in the false-light, and in the depths of the reflecting metal she saw a face - a body. The badger, the room, even the blade itself seemed to retreat, until all she could see was that girl, magnified a hundredfold in size until she stood before the lioness. Andrace no longer held the sword, but simply stood before the vision. It was a girl - clothed in a stark-white shift and standing upright, with long, disheveled black hair. Her wrists were bound in chains, as were her feet, but the hair around her back flowed and gave the vaguest intimations of wings. Her eyes were closed.

Andrace stood before this vision for a few moments, in silence - until she heard whispers, on the edge of her hearing, growing louder with each passing breath.
And there the children of dark Night have their dwellings, the awful gods... The glowing Sun never looks upon them with his beams, neither as she goes up into heaven, nor as he comes down from heaven... One of them roams peacefully over the earth and the sea's broad back and is kindly to men; but the other has a heart of iron, and her spirit within her is pitiless as bronze: whomsoever of men she has once seized she holds fast: and she is hateful even to the deathless gods...

The girl before Andrace stirred, and opened her eyes. The world lit up with fire and fury, the night of that place turning into an inferno of day in her eyes - every color of every rainbow was in them, as vibrant as any color Andrace had ever seen, more vibrant than even that - and the lioness found that she could not look away.
"Thanatophoros." the girl said, pointing at Andrace, and she felt ice clutch at her heart.

  And she was back.

The world still swam in gray, and she could hear the distant sussurus of whispering voices, and through the window the sky appeared cracked by an evil storm, but everything else was as it was. Except...

The badger glowed, illumined in gold, and inscribed throughout with lines in red - veins, lungs, arteries, vital organs - the lioness could see his heart beating. And across him...
Lines of bright red and gold crossed him in several places, and they shifted every few moments.

"There are strokes that cannot be recovered from, that cross muscle and tissue and organ." the badger said. Hearing a familiar voice in this place was a shock. "Places were fortitude cannot save. The lines you see...there are the places that a stroke will end someone. Always. It is more than anatomy - a fell magic permeates the sword, I believe. Strike the line and they will die."

Andrace noted that the badger had in his hand the curved blade he'd set down before. He tilted his head at the lioness. "Release your grip to release the sight. You will not have to go through that again."

* * *

Walter greeted Mel as she opened the door. "Good evening, my lady." he said, smiling his best. "Are you ready to depart? Your grandmother seems to be read to go."

* * *

Officer Y'mir glanced at the cat - ostensibly what could be the victim of a form of assault - and back to the two gryphons who'd caused more trouble in thirty minutes than he'd seen all week. Back to the cat, who was turning an unattractive shade of brown. Back to Rover, who was bigger than the entire local jail. He grunted, and waved the two away, heading for the hotel to ask for a towel for the feline.
"Gedaouttahere, before before he does something else." he said. The barista, who was still standing in the snow, snerked roughly from behind her certificate of credit that Tim had issued here.

* * *

Elizabeth heard someone start talking behind her.

"Excuse me, did you know Harvey?" the voice said. She turned to see a roughly thirtiesh rabbit regarding her, casually dressed. His head was tilted slightly. "He did keep odd friends, I guess. Never knew Uncle Harv very well myself. Still, they have the funeral when he dies, right? I'm sure he'd be laughing, the bastard, if he knew he was raining on all those rich folks parades. He never did like them, although I hear he was a bit of a bastard to everyone." he smiled wryly. "Ah, sorry, didn't catch your name...?"

* * *

The librarian frowned, and looked back at the book. She shut it with a snap, and set it carefully to the side.

"I'll make sure the matter is looked after, ma'am. I'm sorry it troubled you. Also, please no running in the halls, sir." she said, nodding at Gareeku.

* * *

There were various tables already set up around Elyse and Esme, filled with various cheeses and cold meat, and in a few places trays set up beneath heated burners filled with hot desserts, including a cobbler and a thick chocolate dish. As Elyse's eyes were passing over the cold cuts and through into the ballroom, however, she saw a figure with a broken leg and missing at least one side of his face shuffle past the doorway and disappear. Conversation and activity around her remained normal.

* * *

In the rightmost hallway nearest the door to the drinking room, a fox in a perfectly black suit and a yellow tie was watching the german doctor with great interest. He checked his golden pocketwatch every now and again, and smiled with bright shining teeth.

Aten stood there shivers . he knew it was silly but he could swear that he could here the hot chocolate freezing in his fur. "officer do you know were i can go warm up and clean this gunk off my fur and clothes before i freeze solid" he asked through a set of  chattering teeth.  the wind really bit into one when one's fur was wet

Andrace's smile switched off like a light when she noticed the edges of her vision going grey. She tried to whip her arms about in a motion that would have tossed the sword into the far corner of the room... and nothing happened. She couldn't even open her fingers to let the thing drop out of her hands. As the colour leached out of her view and into the sword blade, she laid her ears back and hissed through her fangs, not frightened yet, but definitely getting anxious.

Then the whole room went away, and the chained girl appeared. Andrace thought she looked odd, no muzzle or tail, bare pink skin and no fur or feathers on her body. She wasn't sure she was a human, since she'd only rarely seen one, and they all looked alike to her anyway. The lioness only had time for a few questioning thoughts: Who is she? Where'd the sword go? Was she in the sword? Was she the sword? Then a voice spoke. It sounded like one of the old prophecies, the sort that foretold massive doom and destruction in a hideously cheerful manner, as if it was something to look forward to.

The explosion of colour when the girl opened her eyes almost made Andrace flinch, but she couldn't look away. This's gettin' well beyond spooky, girl, she thought to herself, an' edgin' t'wards run-away-an'-don't-look-back territory. And yet... why did the girl seem so familiar? Although she was near petrified with fear, Andrace felt she knew the girl, knew her as a calming, reassuring presence in the mind-bending place she stood in. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her tail lashing, she watched as the girl spoke a single word. She didn't understand it — although again, it sounded hauntingly familiar — but an icy shiver filled her body as her vision twisted again...

...And she was back in the badger's room. Still holding the sword. Still seeing only in shades of grey. And still, somehow, keeping control of her bladder. The lioness took a slow, deep breath as she listened to the old badger's explanation of the glowing lines she could now see across his body, and strained to raise her ears from their position folded flat back against her head. The last foot or so of her tail flicked back and forth in agitation, and she glared somewhat wild-eyed at him. "Who, what or where th' frig is Thanatophorous?" she snarled through clenched fangs. "Th' girl, she said that, an' then I was back here." Andrace strained every muscle from shoulders to claws in an effort to open her hands and drop the sword. She blinked several times quickly. "An' what th' frig happened t' th' colour?"

Jeremiah watched the proceedings with mild bemusement, even more surprised at Elyse's warmness than pleased by her being distracted from calling him names. Whaddya know, rich girl's got a soul.
I say we find out what it looks like.
Shaddap Bal, I'm enjoying seeing her like this. Besides, the new girl's cute.
Good to see your priorities and professionalism's worked out how to deal with this new trouble.
Fuggoff.
When the rat decided to involve himself Jeremiah kept his mouth shut; as a servant it wasn't really his job to make the guests be polite to each other, and as a guest the grouchy old man was it figured that it was necessary to let him be. The kick from Elyse, however, earned her a glare. The lord of Castle Damaske does populate his parties with such charming company.
With everyone wandering back inside he slipped out of his coat and put it in the hall closet, then turned back in the direction of his apparent ward and her new friend. This one, at least, seemed both polite AND sane. "Esme, was it? Would you like me to take your things to your room for you?"

Mel smiled back at Walter. "I will be ready once I get my cloak. I left everything for later on the bed."  She paused as she picked up her purse and wrap and spotted a piece of paper on the table. "Is Brun around? I should give her this letter. I think your visitor from earlier is just trying to get free information, but better safe than sorry."

 "Thanatophorous." the badger said softly. "It took me many years to learn that meaning." he looked to the side. "A word from an old, old language, long dead." he seemed to crack a smile at that, and looked back at Andrace, his face again growing sober. "It means death-bearer. She meant that to be you."
He tilted his head back slightly. "As for the color...you should see your own eyes." he smiled. "In every color of the rainbow, intense as the sun. But your vision! You see the mortality inherent in all things - the end of all things. The eyes of Death. That is why there is no brightness, no color, only grey, but for the glimmering of those...not yet dead."

In the grey light of the afternoon, the badger somehow took on a more sinister connotation. "I fear I have done you no favors. But you must take it." there was fervor in his voice, an intensity that she'd yet heard from him. "Can you imagine if someone found this? Some collector, some..." he shook his head and looked at the ground, his expression twisted in some form of pleading. "It cannot be. You must take it."

Andrace heard a soft click, the sound of metal moving across wood. She saw the edge of the sword in his hands peeking out from the scabbard, just barely. With surprising slowness, the badger drew the blade entirely, the sword gleaming wetly in the sunlight.
"Beware the lady in the sword, Andrace." he said, his expression turning resolute and strange. "Someday she will find you too."

Andrace found her limbs unlocking as he charged, and his blade sang as it cut the air - the badger whirled the sword over his head and with a swiftness belied by his size. He swung at an angle, his sword a grey, shining arc as he aimed for the lioness's head.

* * *

Walter sniffed. "I can give it to her later, if you would prefer. I did not like the look of that...feline." he said, pressing his lips together. "Nevertheless." he said, and held the door open for Mel while she gathered her things.

Ten minutes later, they were well on their way to the Castle, the carriage halfway up the hill and making good time.

* * *

The officer turned around, his expression dumbfounded.

"I expect a shower might do you good, son." he said, tilting his head. "You homeless or something? The local YMCA might be able to help you out." he said a bit loudly.

The golem had successfully managed to move away from the officer and carefully it settled into vehicle mode.  He eased his wheels into a quiet corner of the parking lot, a legal parking space for vehicles of his apparent class.  Perhaps now he could get some meditation in before anything could go wrong.

***

"The castle looked much closer than it appeared."  Huffed Kiet as he and Camiole approached the front of the old structure.

The clouded leopard gave a small chuckle as she gazed back down the path towards the town, "you really must get out of that academy and get back into shape.  A great warrior should not be winded by such a pedestrian walk.  I could have run that carrying water buckets."

"pedestrian walk?  Nice choice of words Cam."  Kiet straightened up with a short stretch and a yawn, "when you are as old as I am, you learn to conserve energy and take deliberate action.  Now... shall we?"

The ringtail gestured towards the castle with an outstretched, gentlemanly arm.

"Yes, I think so."  Camiole purred as she took his offered arm.  The pair approached the gates brushing them aside with simple magic.
 

As Gareeku answered, Rynkura took note of the wolf's expression.  She knew a troubled look when she saw one; but it wasn't yet her place to ask, especially when she was still awaiting an answer from the librarian.  The white tiger kept her concern to herself as she heard the book snap shut courtesy of the lemur's hands.

"Hm, do see that you do," she nodded back and made a polite bow of the head.  "Do not worry about the bother; if anything it made the day a little more interesting before the party," she chuckled.  "Now, I'll take my leave.  And please do remember to tell me if any books on the history of the castle show up; I am still most curious about that."

With that, Rynkura took up her staff and walked towards the wolf, her headache's effects finally having dwindled.

"I quite honestly think that there are strange things happening in this place," she told the wolf, once they were out of earshot of the librarian.  "I was just attacked by a cursed book.  Some kind of prank, I suppose."  She hummed with a shake of her head, turning back to the warrior.  "I hope that is all it is.  Did you find anything yourself?"

   Esme stopped, turning to regard Elyse with a look of both curiousity and happiness. A reconsideration of Elyse's position pleased her, and Esme looked forward to actually having a semi-normal companion for the rest of her attendance. Of course, there must be more beneath the surface than Esme initially appraised, but Esme tended to follow her instincts regarding others and her stomach had told her good things about Elyse. At least, so far.
   
     "Thank you," she managed, flashing a broad smile as she fell in step with her associate, continuing to move despite any lack of real direction or destination. Despite Elyse's relaxed posture and easygoing tone, there was a hardness to her face that suggested that other thoughts were perhaps on her mind. Again, the early curiosity bubbled forth from the depths of her mind, and Esme found herself thinking of the politics and swaggering that went around at such ritzy galas as this. Friendliness here could be a tool and a weapon, as could every question or even a seemingly benign statement. The concept made her head spin. Maybe sometime in the future she could ask Elyse about it, but for now she shoved the thoughts back into the recesses of her brain, and focused on the moment at hand. Noting the way Elyse's eyes trailed along the various platters of hors d'ouevres, and, with a slight flick of her wrist, Esme turned forth a small cube of cheese impaled on a toothpick in her palm that had previously been across the room. "Looking for this?", she asked knowingly with a grin on her face.

Andrace's eyes (shining all the colours of the rainbow) widened and her ears dipped as she realised the meaning of the badger's words. She had a horrible suspicion of what would happen next; and almost exactly on time, she heard the quiet metallic click of his sword being eased out of its scabbard. "Oh no, y' don't," she said quietly, with a warning tone in her voice, "y' not goin' t' make me th' weapon t' kill y' — I got a few more questions for y' yet!"

Too late. The badger charged, and the paralysis that had frozen Andrace's arms and legs released her almost after the last moment. With so little time and the badger's unexpected speed, there were only a few reliable moves she could make to counter... and she didn't take any of them. A block-and-bind move on the badger's sword, then a disarm, would have been easy. But if, as she suspected, he was being controlled or compelled to attack, that gave too many opportunities for him to throw himself on her sword if he was determined not to survive.

Crouching slightly, the lioness thrust her new sword up at an angle, across the path of the badger's strike, then she leaped straight up, swinging her knee up towards the underside of his muzzle as he rushed towards her. A riskier move for Andrace, depending as it did on the certainty of swatting the descending blade out of the way as she jumped, but it gave her opponent a much better chance of remaining unperforated. Unless something else was going on here...

The bat didn't turn toward Esme until after a brief pause of a couple of seconds. Once she did though, she had somehow evidently managed, without any apparent movement, to down three of the little skewered snacks, and was slipping the toothpicks out of her mouth, pinching them between her fingers. She looked at the lynx, then at the proffered cheese, and offered a dry smile.
   'Yes, I suppose it's easy for some to make the mistake. However I am a bat, not a rat', she said. Her hand glided down her side and out of Esme's immediate vision, and without dropping anything to the floor or stretching in any way she somehow managed to produce a wine glass next, which she lifted to her lips. She drew the liquid smoothly and slowly, savoring as much as she could of the faint similarities to the taste that she craved and at the same time partaking in hints of perky, sweet-curious confusion that she gleaned from the other woman. A bit away elsewhere across the floor, a caribou waiter stared at the tray he was carrying in confusion, but in the bustle neither the lynx nor Elyse herself were in a position to see his consternation. Even under the circumstances, such as he were probably not quite used to glasses going off wandering on their own. Normally only the silver cutlery apparently managed that, and only in the presence of very particular types of visitors.

   Esme snorted rather loudly, popping the small cube of cheese into her mouth, sliding the toothpick out without any apparent effort. "My mistake," she smiled, enjoying the sharp taste of cheddar on her tongue. Her stomach bubbled slightly as she realized she hadn't actually eaten anything during her train trip. She twitched her fingers slightly, producing multiple cubes of diced ham, sliding them past her lips, savoring the rich smoky flavor. Esme raised an eyebrow as she collected her spent toothpicks in her left hand. Lifting an hors d'oeuvre was one thing. An entire glass of wine was another. The two of them made eye contact briefly and she looked away, deciding to attempt a similar feat to the bat-woman's. As if pulling something from her pocket, a shining empty glass blossomed forth. Esme sniffed, clearly amused. "Some you win," she muttered to herself, placing the glass on a tray as the group passed a table.

"homeless? no sir i've just been dipped in hot chocolate and rubbed again a cold clock tower and dumped on the street. i don't want to return to the hotel with out at least trying to clean up some" the feline shook his hands down towards the ground  then resumed shivering and trying to rub the colling coco out of his fur.  " i only have a few hours to get ready for tonight after all." he said and as and after though he remember the book's he'd borrowed form the library and suddenly turned around looking for them. "oh man were did i drop those books. please don't be in the coco please don't be in the coco!"

 "Well son, I think you better think about just how you're going to get clean without going back to your bathroom." Officer Y'mir said, shaking his head. The lack of 'coco' on the ground or in any location - what might have charitably been called brownish water was currently decorating the sides of the building and growing vaguely sticky - didn't seem to faze the feline in the least. He was about to say something else, when his radio crackled to life.

It spoke in that strange, difficult-to-decipher, static-filled drone that were intrinsic to shortwave radios, and instantly understandable to anyone holding the receiver while being simultaneously incomprehensible to everyone else around them. He narrowed his eye.
"He said that it was upside down when he got there? No, no, I'm headed over. Look for tequila bottles, I think I remember this guy. We took him in last week on a domestic call. Right, the fistfight with the old lady. No, his car wasn't upside down at that time. Look, I'll be there in a minute."

He walked away, jogging just slightly towards this next call of duty, and as fast as possible away from the giant gryphon and insane feline bibliophiles.

* * *

The weight of the badger's strike nearly crumpled Andrace's arm - everything about the swordsmith suggested a bigness that belied his quick movement. There was a prodigious strength in those armslimbs, and despite somewhat of a gut, an ability to support those wrought-iron arms as they slammed into the ebon-bladed sword. Andrace landed a solid kick to his face, cutting his muzzle on his own teeth and knocking him back slightly, but she was surprised when a hand darted from the hilt of his sword, and with thick fingers wrapped his hand nearly entirely around her foot.

Again, his speed was deceptive - within a heartbeat, the badger pushed off his back foot, and putting the entire weight of his body shoved Andrace bodily backwards, up and through the air and into the wooden wall behind her, rattling the entire side of the room. A tea set clattered off its shelf, shattering.

"You think this is a game?!" he bellowed, sword gleaming wickedly in the sunlight. He moth frothed, the formerly calm badger consumed in battle-lust. "What kind of a warrior are you? If you do not kill me, I WILL kill you!"

As if to reinforce his point, he charged the feline again, his own curved blade a blurred, silver arc as he readied another strike at the lioness.

* * *

The gates of the Castle Damaske groaned and clattered, largely because they were already open, and the hinges only allowed them to move back so far. Still, the desired effect was accomplished, and Kiet may have even succeed in opening them yet slightly more, and possibly latching one on the automatic catch that the previous gate-keeper had failed to connect with.

The Castle stood before the incubus in all of it's glory. To Kiet the tactician, it was less than impressive - built less in the style of the keeps of old, it was more a grandiose manor house of stone, four-storied and vaguely rectangular, with nary a tower nor murder hole to be seen. Large glass windows begged to have fire thrown through them, and the roof might very possibly be made of wood or slated shingles, if the view from the hotel had been correct.
To Kiet the Noble, it was a thing of beauty. Grand, stately, built of black stones and tastefully accented in gold, it was a tribute to the gothic in every sense of the word - imitation, and done so with the most careful attention to detail, and the greatest ignorance towards actual gothic styles. It managed to be grand in it's own way, however, and it was this quality that impressed itself strangely.
It was readily apparent this castle hadn't been here very long, as castles go. Perhaps only in the last five to six hundred years had it been built.

They were not the first here, it was apparent - they had to dodge incoming traffic coming in the gates, and the internal gardens were already overflowing with guests, of all sorts and from all places, in all manner of dress. Two servants seemed to be taking invitations at the front door, each one standing on either side, and nodding in affirmation or shaking their heads sadly, depending upon their reception or a guest's dispossession of an invitation.

* * *

"Oh what a wonderful place!  One could hold such foppish, pretentious... ostentatious... pompous parties here!  Reveling on the expansive grounds, looking down upon all the common folk through massive glass windows, and dieing in violent, bloody way as the peasants storm the poorly defensive walls because of some off-color remark about how they can eat the burned remnants of baking coating the inside of ovens."  Kiet managed to keep a sweet and innocent face throughout the whole comment.

Camiole's smile was slight as she nodded in agreement, "indeed, I would not want to have to hold this outer ward without at least four squads of elite, veteran terminators."

Kiet focused his eyes on the right servant, his right, and with a determined and confident step, made his way for her.  Twisting and turning this way and that, slipping through small cracks in the otherwise solid wall of beings and creatures, and just plain tail whacks on occasion, Kiet reached the servant in record time.  He produced the invitation and brought it to rest in front of her eyes by was of a single wing tentacle.  The draconic head's eyes winked at her and awaited her taking of the offered paper.

Quote from: Cogidubnus on January 31, 2009, 12:15:01 AM
Elizabeth heard someone start talking behind her.

"Excuse me, did you know Harvey?" the voice said. She turned to see a roughly thirtiesh rabbit regarding her, casually dressed. His head was tilted slightly. "He did keep odd friends, I guess. Never knew Uncle Harv very well myself. Still, they have the funeral when he dies, right? I'm sure he'd be laughing, the bastard, if he knew he was raining on all those rich folks parades. He never did like them, although I hear he was a bit of a bastard to everyone." he smiled wryly. "Ah, sorry, didn't catch your name...?"

Elizabeth froze and craned her head around to look at the rabbit, cocking an eyebrow. She tried to minimize her confusion so she could appear, at least, somewhat helpful or pleasant, even when the Being was prattling on about some deceased relative. Not that Elizabeth could begrudge her all that much. She tried to act sympathetic, adopting a weary smile. "Ah, I'm afraid I'm just a visitor," she explained gently, trying to not seem suspicious. "I'm Elizabeth."

Whut th' hell happened? was the first thing to go through Andrace's mind as she sailed across the room. She instantly raised the badger several notches in ability and danger. Blocking his strike had rattled every tooth in her head, she'd felt the shock of the blades clashing go all the way up her arms and down her spine. As for the kick to the jaw, she might as well not have bothered, he'd shown so little effect. Then she'd felt a vice grip close around her foot, nearly crushing her paw, and the whole room flipped upside-down.

Training and feline instinct took over: the lioness ducked and tumbled as she crashed into the wall, taking the impact across her shoulders instead of smacking into it face-first. Somehow she kept her grip on her hideously dangerous new sword as she slid down the wall and landed in a heap. She was going to have a huge bruise over her shoulderblades, and as she moved she felt a sharp twinge somewhere between the back of her neck and her lower ribs. Scrambling to her feet, she realised she was in even more danger, the badger seemed to be about to go berserk. She laid her ears back and bared her fangs in a snarl. "I am Kithara," she growled angrily after a gasp or two to catch her breath, "we don't play games, not like this. What kind o' warrior am I? I'm one who don't always need t' kill — an' I'm not killin' y' t'day if I c'n help it!"

A snarl rumbled deep in her chest as the badger charged again. Still holding the sword in only one hand, she performed a parry that, with luck, should deflect the badger's sword into the wall at her back, where with even more luck, it might stick. With her other hand, she fished one of her old throwing knives out of its hidden pocket and thrust it up, slashing at the badger's right arm as it swung past. Those damnable lines across his body still pulsed and glowed, and she had no intention of giving him so much as a hickey on any of those spots. Even if he had gone berserk, enough damage should slow him down and leave him easier to defeat without actually killing him. Hopefully, before he killed her...

Aten heard the officer departing and but he didn't matter. instead what did matter was find the book. fortunately  it they were no in the coco but near a hug foot print Aten breath a sight of relief as he found them. she shook himself light  and shook his hands again before picking up the  books. the officer was right however. he should go back to the hotel. and he tried to figure out where it was he wondered if there were a way he could sneak in but he doubt that. sneezes he waked away form one of the most unseal situations of his life.

'...some you botch,' the bat finished for Esme, in a voice that seemed somehow closer than it should have been. She herself was of the persuasion that luck just didn't play into things, but that at the heart of everything were the abilities to calculate and compensate for eventualities, and to discern when one should refrain from doing a particular thing that seems much too influenced by chance.
   'Helping you to your room would be our pleasure. Perhaps we can discuss things without interruption,' she continued, sipping once again. Her eyes sidled toward Jeremiah for a short instant, unpleasantness in her look. And you listen to Bal, or I think maybe I'll see if there isn't a way to put him in charge instead... she voiced in the amphibian's head.

 The badger's sword slid off Andrace's parry, burying itself firmly into the wall behind her. The ease with which it sunk into the oaken boards reminded her of the very subtle difference in sound between a cleft skull and a cleft board. He growled, pulling back - the boards bowed under his strength, but the sword stuck fast.

The throwing knife was indeed as keen as the smith had promised it to be - it cut through fur and flesh as easily as one cut through butter, and he hissed and let go of the hilt reflexively. A bright, red line bloomed from wrist to elbow, severing the muscle and starting to bleed profusely. The fingers hung limply.

He growled at the Kithara assassin, dribbling blood on the floor. "I thought you might understand. You are no warrior. You're nothing but a sellsword. I should have.... never - li..." he paused for a moment, his expression distant. A flash of rage passed through his eyes. "If you will not give me death, I shall take it myself." he snarled.

He grabbed his sword with his good hand, and with that same prodigious strength proceeded to rip it from the wall. The wood buckled and then broke, the blade coming free along with peices of wood and drywall. He spat in Andrace's general direction.
"May she betray you in the end, assassin."

With a single motion, he ran himself through. His eyes bugged, and a moment later he coughed blood through his teeth. In an act of supreme will, he twisted the blade, and cut to the side, disemboweling himself.
A moment later he fell onto the ground, the blade pushing through him as he fell. Blood pooled on the floor at an alarming rate. He craned his neck, looking at Andrace. His gaze was serene.

He opened his mouth, but only blood poured between his teeth. His face froze. The lines of color, indicators of the hidden seams that bound him to reality, and life, faded.

* * *

Herr Doktor felt a tap on his shoulder. Behind him, a fox dressed in charcoal black and flowery yellow was smiling with bright, white fangs. A golden pocket-watch chain gleamed from the bright waistcoat.
"Dr. Irisi, I presume?" he said, his smile overly smug.

* * *

The attendant took Kiet's invitation gingerly, eying the tentacle-head proffering it warily. He read through it once, and then let the tentacle clamp onto it again.
"Welcome to Castle Damaske, Mr. Ti'Pallo." the attendant said, his attention moving on to the next person in line.

The interior decor seemed to be largely in keeping with the outside. Stone walls and stone floors with plush carpets and rugs thrown over them, high arches and the general feeling of grandiose privilege pervaded the place. Drinks and food had already been set out, and people milled about, socializing and generally passing the time.

* * *

The rabbit gave Elizabeth a strange look, and nodded. "Ah, well. Right then. I hope you have a pleasant morning." he said, moving away and closer towards the rest of the family.

Elizabeth might have lost interest in the place, had her eyes drifting over the intricate wood paneling not seen a perfect replica of the Jyraneth clan symbol, sitting exactly at the crest of one of the wooden arches above their heads.

* * *

LL and Mel arrived at the castle not half and hour after departing. Walter opened the door, and Mel stepped out first - and was immediately struck with a feeling of oddness. She thought little of it, however, moving forward to allow room for her grandmother to step out.

The elder dragon took her time getting out of the carriage - as she did so, Mel thought she saw a bit of amusement in her eyes. The attendants, and the staff currently moving about outside, nearly in unison turned to look at LL. LL, in turn, stared at the stone edifice in front of her, and walked towards it with great dignity.
"It is always too long between these parties, is it not, Melodie?" she said, giving the younger dragon a surprisingly roguish grin.

there was no help for it. aten needed to get  to the shower and that was in the hotel was the one place he was sure he could do it with out being arrested. not to mention that all of his clothes were there including his suite. so with coco  still falling off of him mostly frozen now he walked into the lobby and quickly headed for the elevator hoping that no one would notice him especially not the one's he was looking for he wolf Cogidubnus and the dragoness Melodie.  Who knew how they would react especially after they letter he sent to her. the wolf he'd never found but he hoped that he'd see him after he got cleaned up and not before.

Elizabeth watched the rabbit drift back into the crowd, and waited until he disappeared before she actually reacted. Sighing and folding her arms delicately, she walked, her posture and stance taller than her countenance actually allowed, straying about the room. She quickly found that she was losing interest, and her previous indignation was no longer a reasonable justification for staying in a place that bored her. Elizabeth shrugged loosely, frowning at what she viewed to be a fruitless interlude, and mumbled something under her breath about this venture being a waste of time.

She was about to open the door when she spotted it carved into the wooden arch. An exact recreation of the Jyraneth clan symbol.

Years and years of learning how to keep herself from acting with irrational emotionality was the only thing that kept Elizabeth from simply exploding with shock. She stared in abject horror at that little crest, stunned, her mind starting to reel - this, combined with the name of this establishment, was not just a coincidence. This hack-job Hanging Garden had to be run by someone who was familiar with Jyraneth Clan traditions - or who was from the Jyraneth Clan. The possibility of encountering someone who had survived the catastrophe that destroyed her home city was starting to excite Elizabeth, beyond the point where she could feasibly keep her composure. She had to find who was in charge of this place. Now.

Andrace's left ear flattened as the badger's sword carved into the wall only a couple of inches away. From the sound, that blow would have split her skull right down to the middle of her chest. She sidled quickly away as the injured badger finally let go of his sword, but she kept watching his every move. Disarmed or not, a badger was still a dangerous opponent. He must be mad, though, the things he was saying —

"Oh hell, no! Don't!" Andrace yelled as the furious badger wrenched his sword out of the wall. Too late. The only weapon she had with the reach to disarm him immediately was her new sword, and she didn't dare try to use that. All the lioness could do was dodge the blood that sprayed out from the massive wound as he ran himself through. Well, most of the blood. Some of it did get on her trousers and paws, and a few drops trailed up the right side of her jerkin and across her face.

She stared at the sprawled body as the glowing lines faded away to nothing, half furious with herself for not being able to stop him, half not quite believing she'd got into such a mess so quickly. Her gaze shifted to the sword in her hand as she stepped back to avoid the spreading pool of blood (and an assortment of internal organs). She would have been happy — no, ecstatic — to throw it away, or destroy it, but she had the uneasy feeling she wouldn't be able to. And she might just need it later.

"Right, first things first," she muttered to herself, "pull y'self t'gether, girl, an' stop babblin' — clean up, then y' need t' get out o' here." She left the body alone. The badger had obviously stabbed himself, and there were still chunks of debris from the hole in the wall stuck to his blade. There was nothing she could do about the long cut in his arm, except hope everyone would think he'd done that to himself as well. Besides, the blood pooling on the floor now surrounded the body, so any attempt to move him would leave clear traces. Working quickly, she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the worst of the blood from her clothes. A few dabs from a small bottle taken from a hidden pocket followed, in the same places: that would hide the scent of blood, at least until she could dispose of the shirt and trousers. Their colours were carefully chosen, anyway, so that bloodstains wouldn't be too clearly visible. She slipped all the new throwing knives into the sheaths hidden under her shirt sleeves: they weren't a perfect fit, but close enough. Her old knives went into the box.

A quick search of the wall display turned up an empty scabbard that looked as if it should fit her new sword: when she tried, it slid home with a whisper that almost sounded alive. Her eyesight twisted for a moment, and she hoped that meant her "rainbow eyes" had gone back to normal. Walking around with glowing eyes and waving an unsheathed spooky-looking sword would definitely attract attention.

A short time later, out on the street, the shop doorbell tinkled as Andrace opened the door and walked out. She looked calm and unhurried, and she carried a long parcel wrapped up with lots of brown paper. Her ears tipped back as she heard the door close behind her, and the lock engaged with a distinct clunk. A few paces away from the doorway, she tugged on a thin thread held in her hand. The other end of the thread went under the door, and inside the "open" sign flipped over to "closed". Maybe not all that convincing a performance, but the best she could do in a hurry. With luck, anyone watching might persuade themselves they'd seen the old badger lock the door and turn the sign. All she wanted was for the mess upstairs to avoid attracting notice until her job was done and she was safely away.

The lioness had to take a few detours on the way back to the hotel before she found what she wanted. The snow from yesterday was partly melted, leaving puddles and slush on the pavements and roadsides. When she finally stamped (and squelched) into the Firebloom Inn's lobby, her legs were dripping with very cold water. Andrace paused at the reception desk long enough to order a taxi to take her to the castle in half an hour, then she stalked (apparently) angrily towards the stairs, snarling dire imprecations on all drivers who splashed innocent passers-by with freezing slush.

Half an hour later, Andrace came back down the stairs looking very different. She wore a neat, businesslike jacket and shirt with a slightly frilled knee-length skirt, all in various shades of tan and brown, and a frilly collar round her neck. Dangling from her left ear, to match the silver ring in her right, was a small green feather, just an inch or two long. She was dragging the backpack now, it appeared to have little wheels on the bottom so it wouldn't scrape noisily along the floor. The bloodstained shirt and trousers were gone, cut into shreds and flushed down the toilet. The jerkin had been less stained and easier to clean, it was folded up at the bottom of her backpack. Her new sword was... carefully hidden. She walked up to the reception desk and handed over her room key. "I'm checkin' out now," she said cheerfully, "oh, an' I ordered a taxi, is it here yet?"

Tim nodded gratefully at the officer, turned and whistled sharply at Rover, and jerked one thumb in the direction of the hotel. She then took off, hauling herself into the air, and cruising slowly, near Rover's head, as he padded carefully through the streets to where the crate was parked, pausing only briefly to wash the remaining hot chocolate from his paws in a fountain.

Once there, Tim skipped inside to grab her bag, and sort out the bill, then came back out and, after parking her bag inside, directed Rover to grab the container and lift off. A short flight back to the train station, where Rover dropped the steel box onto a waiting truck on a siding. Tim opened up the doors, and shuffled inside. Rover rested his head on the tracks, one huge eyeball peering curiously in through the open doors, from which various thumping and swearing noises were emitted as Tim shuffled things around, getting the suit ready.

Finally, she emerged, grumbling to herself, and persuaded Rover to assist her. Firstly, he removed a flowy white sheet, which resolved itself, as he put it on, into an extremely large shirt, followed by dark green pants, a cummerbund, a spotless green jacket, and bow tie, all in his immense size. Finally, with some disgust, he pulled out a huge green ribbon, and handed it to Tim, who thanked him gravely, before tying it in a large bow at the end of his tail.

The final touch was the large, expressive mask that was balanced on his beak. Not only did it carry a shape, and colour, vaguely suggestive of daisies, the impact was accentuated by just a few strategically placed sequins; sunlight reflecting off beaded dew. Tim tied it in place, then vanished back into the shipping container. Mere moments later, she emerged, wearing her own ball gown: layers of brightly coloured fabric, artfully wrapping her wings without interfering with flight; and mask: black, with a pair of lit antennae coiled like fronds from the top. Checking she had the invitation, she turned to her charge. "All, right, boy. Let's rock the house."


Taking to their wings, they flew towards the castle, the butterfly flitting around the daisy.

Listening to Rynkura speak of her being "attacked by a book", Gareeku raised an eyebrow as he glanced at her.
"Funny you should say that. I just had an encounter with a strange individual." The wolf explained as the two of the them walked back from the library to the hotel. "He not-so-politely advised me to leave before running off. When I gave chase, he disappeared, seemingly into thin air. I think someone, or something, doesn't want us sticking our noses into business that we apparently shouldn't. Too bad. I don't follow advice too well."

"Is that so...?" Rynkura answered as she listened to Gareeku's own strange occurrence in the library.  She had barely noticed the cold of the outside while they walked back to the hotel, nor anything that was going on outside.  She was in thought, her curiosity still gnawing at the edge of her mind.

"Hm," she finally started.  "Strange goings on indeed.  Well, I have never been able to follow advice of that sort either.  Not if there is something that seems to want us to leave just as mysteriously as we've been invited."  The tiger narrowed her eyes, showing a bit of determination.  "If there is one thing I hate, it is something that chooses to sneak around and scare the innocent party-goers, rather than showing itself to fight."

And nothing shall make a fool out of us, either.

The inside of the hotel was warm, but as usual for during the day, a flurry of activity.  A few people she noticed were leaving just as she and the wolf were arriving, perhaps on their way to the castle and being thoughtfully early.

Rynkura looked around and let out a relieved hum.  "At any rate...I suppose there is nothing much more to tend to for me than to get ready for the oh-so-mysterious event," she grinned.  "I shall see you in a few moments perhaps then, Gareeku."

At that end, she made her way back up the stairs, looking for her room.  The place was untouched at least, with her invitation still where she put it and the dress she brought along for the occasion hanging in the wardrobe and protected from wrinkling.

It was as green as her eyes, a sort of combination of modern design and Elizabethan-like decor, elegant but not cumbersome, a dress befitting her commanding and scholarly demeanor.  The masque itself was filled with shining emerald and black sequins.  Not too fancy, but perfect.  The dress was also open in the back, in case there was a moment where she would have to reveal her wings.

For a moment after changing, she considered doing so.  After all, from what she'd seen, just as many Creatures as there were Beings were attending.  An angel wouldn't probably be overlooked, but also not suspicious.  And anyway, thinking of her experiences of the day, it would have been good not to have been mistaken for a weakling, and for the moment, her power respected.

So, leaving her hiding gems in a small handbag, and her staff stored in a pocket space within an enchanted bracelet that she borrowed for such an occasion, Rynkura paused only once to check herself over.  Her wings draped themselves over her shoulders and down her arms like a feathery makeshift cape before she returned downstairs.

"Mm...I agree." Gareeku replied after hearing Rynkura speak of her intense dislike towards things that sneak around in the shadows and do not show themselves properly. "It is cowardice. Plain and Simple."

No sooner had their discussion over the strange turn of events dwindled had both Rynkura and Gareeku re-entered the hotel that they were staying at. Like Rynkura, Gareeku too noticed the people that were leaving as they entered. Pondering whether they too were headed for the castle, the white wolf then turned to his feline companion.

"Right. See you in a little while." Gareeku replied to the white tigress, watching her head up to her room before becoming somewhat lost in thought. It was very likely that he would have to leave his sword at the hotel. He couldn't imagine weapons being allowed into an occasion such as the one he had been invited to attend. The thought of this made him somewhat uncomfortable, as considering the strange events that both he and Rynkura has been through only a short while ago, he would have liked to be properly prepared should anything actually happen. However, his sword wasn't the only thing that he could rely upon, so the lupine pushed his thought aside and headed upstairs to his room.

Once inside, the white wolf removed his current attire, throwing it onto the bed before stepping into the ensuite shower to freshen up. Gareeku wasn't exactly the tidiest individual around, so things like items of clothing would often be thrown to the side until they were washed or used again.

A short while later, Gareeku stepped out from shower having dried himself off and put on the attire he would be wearing to the ball. Checking himself over before tying his long hair with the red strip of fabric he always used, the wolf then headed out of his room, locked the door and heading back downstairs to the reception area.

When Rynkura came down the stairs herself, she would find him waiting there for her. Dressed in a black suit jacket and black suit trousers, Gareeku also wore a red waistcoat underneath that, over the top of a white shirt. In addition to this, he also wore a tie which was a darker shade of red than the waistcost. In the wolf's hand was a masque, coloured in a very dark red.

Rynkura was careful to tread down the stairs, lest she nearly step on her dress.  She wondered just how fancy the party would be, if they frowned on a slight imperfection (and if they did, she would probably give them a straight nose in the air in return).  It had been a long time before the Healer was used to such a thing.

Just as she set foot close to the first floor, she was slightly surprised to see that Gareeku had gotten there before her; and was certainly dressed for the occasion himself.  Even she had to admit the warrior cleaned up well.  She chuckled to herself.  Young Aisha will have to hear all about it.

"A good choice of attire, sir Manoko," the tigress complimented and smiled with a short bow of her head, while straightening a few stray feathers on the edges of her wings.  Her own mask was then placed over the rim of her eyes.  "Quite fetching.  Shall we make for the party, then?  I think there were a few vehicles for hire outside that should spare us a long walk in the snow."  She chuckled.  "They had better, anyway."

 Opposite the swordsmith's house, a figure in black fiddled with his hat for a moment as he watched Andrace exit the building. The badger's disemboweled corpse was clearly visible from his location, behind the second-floor curtains of the house opposite the smith's. He shook his head slowly, taking off the hat and smoothing back his hair before putting it back on softly. A moment later he left, heading out the back and into the snow-dusted alley behind.

* * *

The funeral home was not that large - other than the viewing room, and a few waiting areas, there was only one main office. Into the hallway on the left, and past the bathrooms, she could see a distorting figure standing past the obscured glass window in the door. The door was unlocked - the succubus turned the handle slowly, and being careful not to make a noise, opened the door.

The figure in the room turned nearly immediately, giving Elizabeth a sharp look. Her eyes widened, twitching and clenching one side of her mouth involuntarily. Something was in her hand - she slammed it face down on the desk instantly. It looked like a picture frame.
Elizabeth noticed fairly quickly that she wasn't sensing anything from the figure - no emotions, no thoughts, nothing.

Without saying a word, she walked towards Elizabeth with slow, halting steps, never quite pausing, but as though she was approaching an animal - not timid, but slow.
She'd seen that face before...

Like a snake, her arm shot out, extending just slightly farther than it really should have been able to - a shapeshifter, then - wrapping around Elizabeth's throat. A sun went off in her head - her muscles contracted violently, her vision instantly charring black, and her limbs stopped responding to her commands.
Her vision came back a moment later, giving her a nice view of the ceiling.

"You're going to be a little late for lunch, I think." the woman said. The woman stuck her head where Elizabeth could see, the feature briefly melting into Tobias's, then into a third face, with a winged head and oh-so-familiar...

She felt something slam into her head, and darkness took her.

* * *

Elizabeth woke up.

She felt something cold digging into her skin, and pressing her into something soft - her vision unblurred a moment later, and she saw the chains wrapped around her and pushing her into the bed she was laying on. The woman from before was sitting on a chair next to her, smoking.
"This isn't really how I wanted this to happen, you know." the woman said, blowing a cloud of smoke.

'Everyvone prezumes,' the rat responded cryptically. The brief nod that followed his statement though, together with a sly glint in his eye, revealed that whoever this vulpine encroacher was, the doctor had a bead on him, so to speak. 'Ze question is not vhether zhey are right or not, ov course, but rather ov vat their intentions are. Questions are just vun medium...'
   Tapping the book in his hand with a couple of bony fingers, Dr. Irisi turned to the man he was speaking to only when he considered himself finished with observing the bat and her lynx and frog acquaintances, which was at least two seconds after he finished his reply. His eyes peered cleverly at the fox over the steel rims of his spectacles, belying the... well, rattiness of his face, with their depth.
   'Vat is the matter?' he asked, brusquely.

the shower felt great to Aten but he knew it was getting late. he'd put one the suit he'd picked up special for tonight including a collar pin that was supposed to shield his thongs. he didn't know if it would work but he'd figured it best not to test it until he was heading for the party. even now he was less sure  of himself then he was six days ago when he was on train trying to deiced he it was wise to come at all. but wise or not he was committed and now he would see it through. he just hoped he  didn't get used to paint smileys a building with warm coco again. that was humiliating. even so it was time to go so he tucked his mask into his formal cloak and headed for the door. he'd give the lobby on quick check then head for the castle. perhaps he'd be lucky and see Mel's wolf friend again.

Hearing Rynkura's voice, Gareeku to see her descending the steps. Listening to what the tigress said, he chuckled slightly. He also took note of the fact that the angel was not hiding her wings like she normally did, which made sense as there were quite a few people that were not beings around.
"And might I say you look radiant as well, Mistress." The wolf replied with a smile, bowing his head slightly in greeting. "I imagine there would be vehicles available. I would hate to get a perfect good outfit wet."

Turning to look through the window to see if he could see any vehicles, The white wolf placed his own mask over the rim of his eyes before turning back to Rynkura.
"Might as well have a look outside." Gareeku said, holding his arm out towards Rynkura for her to take it. "Shall we?"

With a smile and a nod, Rynkura took Gareeku's outstretched arm.  "Indeed my young friend, let's do so."

The tigress had recalled seeing coaches and rickshaws for hire, when she had gotten off the train station.  But there had also been a few motorized taxis as well, just a few of them, roaming around the streets.  It didn't really matter to Rynkura which one they took; so long as they got there without much contact with the snow, cold, and even water, as the wolf had observed.

Walking outside, they could spot where some of the said transport were waiting to be called upon.  Luckily there were some left, she thought.  "Excuse me, young sir," she hailed with a politeness in her voice, lest still any Beings were unnerved of her winged appearance.  "We are in need of a ride to the castle, to attend the party."

Thus they were on their way, convinced that hopefully it would be an easy trip, and a more or less fun event.

Jeremiah winced at Elyse's telepathic message. With the girls preoccupied with each other, he'd been hoping to sneak off. After all, SOMEONE had to taste the wine and the bat clearly had other things on her mind. Such as his mind. Another thing to file away for later use... The frog considered as Bal chortled to himself, She's not so good at picking up someone's intent.
And I WOULD like to see what it looks like...
Shaddap Bal.
Manners manners, greaseball. After all, the lady seems to be in favor of my plans.
I've seen your plans. Like the time you tried to attack a dragon with our teeth.
That wasn't so much planned as-
Few things you do are. Just remember what you're good for, Bal.
Tuning out the personae's infuriated profanity with a bite of jerky, the frog let his attention wander back to the rest of the group. He'd been taking in the party itself, keeping a tally of who looked like a Somebody (to those considering them a somebody was good for), a Nobody (if you knew what was good for you), or the various levels between that clung to Somebodies and Nobodies. He could practically feel the social tension in the air, like the room was strung with piano strings. It was rather nice.
The newcomer to show up was a fox, in black and yellow. Jeremiah approved overall of the garb, but rather hoped to remain a charming bit of the furniture for this bit of the conversation. The man's manner gave him the impression of the kind of Nobody mentioned above. As a matter of fact...
"Ah, Esme was it?" he turned to the lynx with a practiced smile, "I don't believe you've had the chance to get settled into your room yet, would you like me to show you there?"

Tim glided over the gates to the castle, and swooped easily down to the front door. Landing perfectly, with nary a thump, she paused to check her outfit, brushing off an imaginary speck of dust, before stepping up to the porter.

"We have an invitation here, I believe." Saying this, she reached under the butterfly outfit to produce the red envelope.

The porter took it, without comment, and glanced at it, then back up at her. "We, Ma'am?"

Tim blinked, then glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, for... Rover! Get down here!"

Somewhere, way up high, a tiny speck started to grow, just a little, gradually resolving into a gryphon, then continuing to grow, much much faster, as he fell towards the two of them. "Is that-" the porter began, then was interrupted by the massive, earth-shaking BOOM of the giant daisy planting itself.

Tim sighed, without looking, and buried her face, somewhat carefully, in her hands. "Yes. It is."

Elizabeth was so excited - so distracted and unnecessarily intoxicated on the idea of encountering another of her clan, or someone who was familiar with its traditions and customs - that she did not raise her defenses even as she walked into the room. It was a decision she would later come to regret, given her firm, disciplined philosophy and her consistently warlike demeanor. Years of hiding had possibly weathered her reflexes - this was just an excuse, she wanted to dismiss her irresponsibility by disguising it with something rational - so all she could do, when the figure she had presumably cornered spun around and became uncharacteristically hostile, was stare in abject shock. Elizabeth didn't detect any emotions trickling off of that figure, and immediately she realized that something was horribly wrong. In such a melancholy establishment, every being presence had been emitting an indistinguishable cloud of lugubrious sorrow. The place practically stunk of grief to such a degree that she would probably abstain from harvesting such emotions for years to come. So why...?

Elizabeth's neck was immediately ensnared. She moved to resist, but did not counter with enough speed. She had almost instantaneously underestimated her opponent, assuming his or her arm would not be long enough to reach her, in spite of its owner's aggression. How wrong she was. Elizabeth tried to scream; all that emerged from her throat was a violent choking noise as the nerves in her limbs simply deactivated. No longer could she control them. Her vision blotted out in a sudden regurgitation of black.

She must have been on the floor, because when Elizabeth could see again, she was staring at the ceiling. She wasn't sure if she had hit her head, because her thoughts were coming to her in a languid, delirious trickle, and she was reacting with less urgency than what was required. Time and time again her impulses were disappointing her. The visage of that woman entered her sight, suddenly transitioning into that of Tobias's - not Tobias's. Elizabeth's breath hitched at the similarity, the mockingly reminiscent features crowned with leathery wings, and she felt angry, her lips curling and her muzzle wrinkling as she snarled vehemently at her assailant. Any thoughts that passed through her heads at that moment were suddenly rendered impotent as something horrible impacted her head, throwing her into unconsciousness.


Elizabeth was fettered to a bed when she awoke. While the restraints seemed excessive, they were, in fact, effective at preventing her from escaping, just now, at least. She wasn't certain if they possessed any magical qualities or enchantments that outright disabled metamorphosis, but at the moment, she simply felt too weary to even think about resisting what bound her. Was she drugged? Her thoughts were so clouded. Elizabeth lolled her head in the direction of her captor, her raspy voice without the venom that she wanted.

"I know you."

 The succubus took a drag of her cigarette. "Not really." she said lazily, although not unamiably. "I don't really remember knowing you, to be honest. But it was a long time ago." she flicked away a buildup of ash, smiling a bit. "Oh, of course I remember...of you, I suppose, Báthory. The great raider that couldn't help getting a little messy when slaughtering beings. The Báthory that now designs scarves for them." her expression soured, giving the jackal a look about as bitter as the cigarette she was sucking on.

"To be honest, I don't know if I can trust you. You've lived amongst them so long now, I suspect you may have gained...sympathies, for them." she said. She sounded truly troubled. "I've buried their dead for centuries now, listening to them weep over dead flesh. Feeding on their sorrow and despair. Still they make me ill." she took another long drag, and then flicked the stub of a cigarette away while reaching for a box on the windowsill next to her. With the sort of skill one gains from a thousand rote, repetitive actions, she shook a slip white stick out of the top and grabbed it with her teeth, pulling it out, and lighting it with a small blue flame from her thumb. Elizabeth could her the extremity of the stick burn acridly for a moment, and Eurydice's subsequent deep, satisfied breath.
"I suppose that I am a victim of circumstance. Were it up to me, I'd leave you to your party and your playing dress-up." she said, breathing smoke. "But the Lady does have a need of you." she smiled.

"There is something in that Castle that she desires very much..."

* * *

Rynkura and Gar reached the Castle quickly, the drifting snow and wind proving no impediment to their progress. The vista of an endless forest of green and white, and snowcapped mountains on the horizon soothed their eyes as they ascended up the path, reaching the Castle in less than half an hour.

* * *

"Oh, nothing, Herr Doctor." the fox said, checking his pocketwatch and smoothing out a lock of hair that had come free. "What could ever be wrong with me? Things are always splendid. It's all in the mind, you see." he smiled with perhaps too much amusement at the rat. "Things are only as wrong as you let yourself get disturbed about them. But, Herr Doctor, I think you are quite disturbed about something, mm?"

The fox leaned close and grinned, whispering. "Someone else has it now. Apparently you died with it in your possession! Who would have guessed! They actually made it out of the caves." he leaned backwards. "Which means I do hope you'll be staying, Herr Doctor. Tonight promises to be very interesting." he said. His teeth shone.

* * *

The porter took a moment to gather himself, taking a breath and then beginning to push himself up off the ground. He stared at nothing in particular for a second before brushing off his coat, and then looked at the giant Daisy standing in front of him. He glanced at his compatriot, who was still on the ground. A great number of the gathered crowd was in the same state, although surprisingly, shock more than fear seemed to have won out - the crowd remained totally silent.

He checked the invitation. He looked up. He handed the invitation back to Tim.

"Right this way." he said, gesturing to the door. He seemed unperturbed by the fact that Rover was at least half as tall as the Castle was.

Tim, in her butterfly guise, accepted the invitation back again with a polite "Thank-you.", then started following the porter.

Then she glanced past him, at the door he was apparently leading them through. Then back over her shoulder, and up, at Rover, who was looking around curiously at the shocked and stunned bystanders. Then back at the door.

She briefly, and expertly, sized up the differences.

Then she shrugged. "It's your door, I guess. Rover! With me, please."


And then she followed the porter through the door. While very very carefully not looking back to see Rover (whose nose might just about fit through the portal), following her. Tracking him by the footfalls, she walked through the door, and onwards perhaps ten or so paces, then paused, with her eyes shut, for the world to fall in.

And waited.

And waited.

A polite cough from her guide, and a nudge on her shoulder from her charge, suggested that what she was expecting just hadn't happened. She turned, and was treated to the slightly eye-watering image of a thirty foot tall, sixty foot long gryphon stretching its one hundred twenty plus wingspan... in a ten by ten corridor. Without touching either wall. Or the roof.

"Argle."

For a moment, the rat's features hardened to a brown rock face, and his gaze sharpened to such a point that it seemed the fox's eyes ought to bleed. There was something in that gaze, some despise or evil will so coldly intense that one might have thought no grimace of loathing would be horrible enough, leaving the doctor's mere facial expression behind and looking complacent by comparison.
   'Your insanity, I cannot remove,' the rat hissed slowly, his accent, his very voice altered as if the slightly nasal and unwieldy one before had never been. 'But there are other things that I can,' he continued with malevolence. 'And I don't need you to fear me or feel pain. Continue to test me, and your destruction will be quite enough.' He turned back to watch the party, a frown fixed on his face.
   'You know my intentions,' he said next, after a short wait, once again not looking at the fox in a way that was less ignoring and more denying. 'And if somehow you've forgotten, which I wouldn't put past you, you at least know I'm in no mood to talk. Leave me be.'

"Absolutely," Esme replied with a light curtsy, attempting to be somewhat more polite than her disrespectful companion. They must have some kind of history together, Esme mused, wondering just what it was that made Elyse hate the little frog so much. Whatever it was, she doubted she would find out by asking. People tended not to like to talk about those kinds of things. She turned back to the white bat, smiling brightly. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not as adept at that kind of magic as you appear to be." The lynx watched Elyse sip at her scarlet beverage curiously, noting the way the liquid flowed across the clear surface of its container and Elyse's lips before drawing her hands behind her back as she realized she was staring, and waited for them to be off.

"There's certainly a menagerie of characters here," she said mostly to herself, wondering exactly why she was standing in the middle of a group of well dressed members of the nobility. "But I suppose that's to be expected from an event of this magnitude." It was a ball of course, but Esme had no doubts that it was more of a political summit than it was a celebration. Dragons probably had a great stake in the goings on of the world. "What kind of people are normally invited to this ball, anyways?" The short woman turned and eyed both the frog and bat curiously. "We three don't seem to bethe most likely candidates for an invitation to the Scarlet Masque." There was no seeming or pondering for herself of course. A medical officer had no real clout in the political world. She just tried to save lives.

"... and he hands me this small stick and says 'it's a Gobi card!'  So I say, 'great, go be what?'  Well, you had to be there."  Chuckled Kiet as he mingled with the various guests, "but really, I have a whole room full of blades, why would I need one made by a swordsmith named Sis-Ko?"

A rather disheveled blue raccoon shook his head and with a barely concealed sigh of frustration attempted a reply, "No, no it's Cis... you know, never mind."  The poor fellow stalked off in search of more wine, he had never met someone so frustrating.

Returning with a pair of wine glasses filled with a fine red, Camiole watched the blue being stalk off, "whats got him all bothered?"

The ringtail shrugged, "he wanted to sell me some servers, but I found it much more entertaining to annoy him.  After all, it's not like I teach the technology classes at the Academy."
 

 The fox grinned, laughing darkly, and removed his glasses as he pulled away from the rat. "Well then! Cheers, Doctor." he said, rubbing them on the breast of his jacket as he walked away. Heading for Esme, Elyse and their froglike companion.

"Ladies! And...Jeremiah. How delightful to see you... all." he grinned at two of them. "I hope you're not thinking of hiding out on us, we really do have a delightful selection of wines to choose from this afternoon. A room to change in for later is complementary, of course - but we ask that you don't camp out there, as other guests may need to use them as the evening grows, ah, larger." he smiled, all genial fangs. His gaze locked onto Elyse oddly. "If you need to retrieve anything from your room, of course, feel free. Having gotten here last night, I can of course understand you wishing to keep others out, to protect your personal items. If you'd like, one of the...staff can accompany you to lock that particular door." he said, continuing to smile, and offered a short nod at the milky-white bat. He shifted his attention to the more diminutive of the two.

"And, ah! I do remember you, Esme. Do you mind if I call you Ms. Broussard?" he said, grabbing her hand, and kissing it before she could protest. "We've been told to expect you! Would you mind if we could speak in...private?" he said, his eyes gleaming."

* * *

A few hours later, Elizabeth found herself just outside the Castle, her gown carefully tucked away with her, and with only a few hours to the ball to go. Not much time to find what she was looking for then, but...

* * *

Luna Lazuli had arrived.

The worst kept secret in Damaske was, of course, the identify of the founder and benefactor of the Scarlet Masque. No-one could prove anything, of course, but there were only so many people who had the desire, let alone the ability, to create such an event. The fact that it was located in one of the most bitterly cold climes in the world, in the dead of winter, and the fact that the Icewings had attented every ball since it's inception - a nearly unduplicated feat - seemed to point very large fingers in Luna's direction. It seemed to amuse the Dragon Matriarch.

So, when her arrival elicited attention, it was not entirely unexpected.

The staff themselves stopped, as did large numbers of the invited guests, and by itself a path formed through the crowd to the Castle doors. There was no red carpet laid out, but where mundane hands can do nothing, magic can do much. The snow melted in front of the elder dragon's delicately-clad feet - an impressive example of the effects of finely controlled manipulation of ambient heat. A few individuals in the crowd pulled their coats tighter, with shiver and a strange look.

With silence as her fanfare, Luna glided into the Castle doors - followed closely by her Granddaughter and her entourage - and disappeared into the Castle Damaske.

* * *

One by one, the stars winked into existence.

Night came early in the town surrounded by mountains - and as the sun dipped beneath the rocky peaks, the snow began to fall more heavily, and the people, warmly-dressed as they were, began to nip into wintertide liquor to stave off a chill. It was shaping up to be a night that cooled the blood and froze the bones, the sort of night where one didn't dare spit for fear of getting ice on your lips, and where a campfire seemed as laughable as a towel in the ocean. In the courtyard, statues clad in icy armor and frosted mails stood watch over a snow-buried garden - a cold and bitter chill, only broken once by the sound of footsteps springing through the untouched grounds, and then the clatter of boots on a stone wall.

The lights of the town below began to light, even as they dimmed in the heavy snowfall. The Masque - the Scarlet Masque - was about to begin.

   Throughout the day, Karazkt had just been in his little cell, listening to the thrum of activity through the stone, since no one had come to get him yet. He went through another rest cycle, and had just come out of it around the time of nightfall. He stirred, and, with nothing better to do, re-immersed himself in the vibrations through the stone of the castle, listening to the general "hive". Something was happening.

Aten arrived at the gates . he'd gotten here well enough but but was uneasy now that he was at the gates. He had his invitation on hand , he'd returned the books on the way and even now he as he approach the guards  he wondered if he might be making a big mistake. he had become certain that this ball existed for a long time before his parents birth now. But even so he was unable to find poof one way or another about weather or not they could use this event to draw him in. it was his time at the gate now. point of no return at least as far as his pride and dignity were concerned. he smiled at the guards. "good evening" he said reaching for his invitation.

Mel wandered through the art showing slightly behind her grandmother, waiting for her signal that it was time to change for the ball itself.  The elder dragon's reputation acted like a wall, keeping all but the most determined petitioners at a respectful distance, leaving Mel free of people trying to get Icewing information or favors for free. As an added bonus watching her grandmother deal with the few bold petitioners was more interesting than the rather bland art on exhibit. LL was skilled at getting the best of any bargain. The current petitioner was a twitchy looking chameleon wanting to verify a rumor of an ancient treasure cache. Considering LL's opinion of people involved in get-rich-quick schemes this should be short and amusing.

"A...map. You say."

"Yes'm." the chameleon rasped. "Given by my dying grandfather to me, the last of his kin, found by him in the great war across the ocean. I must know, great lady-" his tone had grown far away, and LL resisted the urge to roll her eyes - "Is there truly...gold, at the end of this path? Does it lead to Samarkand?"
LL regarded him for a moment, looking him up and down.

"No. But-" she said, leaning close and whispering. "I feel pity for you. Not two miles from here, to the east and up the mountainside, there is a cave - Lionel Turk, former owner of the Firebloom Inn, widower and childless, is said to have buried there his life savings, in precious metals. Many people have been there, but - " she leaned closer still, to whisper in his ear. "There is a pool in the rear of the cave. Beneath the water, just beneath the water-soaked earth, the gold is buried."

"Shoo!"

The chameleon started, giving LL a wide-eyed look, and nodded quickly. He shuffled backwards for a moment, as though he was simply trying to rejoin the crowd and the party, but it didn't take him very long at all to make for the door. A few others followed him.
Walter coughed. "Ah, I don't suspect there really is anything there, madam, hmm?" Luna simply smiled, a hint of fangs. "Of course not. But, he really seemed like he wanted to go snipe hunting, so-"

"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

Heads swivled at the yellow-waistcoated fox standing on one of the tables. The fox bowed at the attention.
"It is my, and the staff of the Castle Damaske's pleasure to announce the Scarlet Masque is about to begin!" he bowed, although his quick speaking cut off any applause. "At this time, we would request that our guests and patrons change into the required dress code before entering the ballroom. Rooms to change will be provided for everyone. If you are already changed, we also ask that you wait just a few moments while we finish a few last minute things." he smiled, and in the ensuing din of conversation gestured to the attendants on either side of the room, standing next to a stairwell, and ready to guide the guests to an appropriate room to change.

*  *   *

Aten was addmitted a few moments after handing over his invitation - just in time, it appeared to go change and get ready for the ball.

The time seemed to rush past, despite the anticipation of waiting for a party to begin.  The ride up to the castle was indeed spectacular, Rynkura thought, from the snow-covered hills to the resilient evergreen trees out of either side of the windows as the light of day waned.

And the castle itself wasn't far too gone from that description.  It stood imposing yet welcoming, ancient yet grand.  The tigress had heard stories, but just looking at it piqued some definite curiosities about the time to come.  She could already see a bunch of people entering, showing their invitations to the guards.  As she and Gareeku checked to make sure they haven't forgotten their own, their sensitive ears could pick up snatches of small activity, and more so from the inside as the cart stopped and their passage was paid for.

With a show of invitations to the guards at the door, the adventurer Gareeku Manoko and the healer Rynkura Msh'taan had officially joined the festivities.

"This place is quite larger than I had expected..." the tigress could be heard murmuring as they took their time winding through the halls to the main ballroom, her voice mingling in the echoes made from others ahead.  Secretly, she hadn't remembered just how large the palace her family once lived in as a child, but she was certain the castle was bigger than that.  "I have an urge to explore about the rooms just to see what kinds of secrets it holds."

The flurry of activity and the rumors of what dignitaries were there surely didn't leave their ears as they mingled, either.  There was talk of an ice dragon queen of many thousands of years having arrived before nightfall, and she could see many kinds of creatures than just her angelic self, wings and all.  But instead of asking, Rynkura had thought to play things by ear.  Looking around, at least the talk of a dragon or two wasn't exaggerated.  She thought suddenly of hers and Aisha's friend Icharus Stormclaw, who'd feel right at home at something like this.

As soon as it was time, the crowd's attention was caught by the vulpine at the balcony, listening intently to his announcement that the ball had begun and the request that everyone get dressed if they still had to.

The white tiger chuckled, leaning against a portion of furniture and adjusting the dark black and emerald mask over the bridge of her nose and regarding the wolf in his outfit.  "No need for us to worry about that."

So thus it was time to wait with the crowd, while also peering around at who showed up.

Andrace sat for a moment to rest in the small room she'd been given to change into her dress for the Masque, which was just about to start. After arriving at Castle Damaske late in the morning, she'd spent most of the afternoon mingling with the flow of chattering guests. She'd also surreptitiously explored the public parts of the Castle — and a few of the not so public parts — whenever she could slip away unnoticed. Despite her size, the lioness could move very quietly indeed when she needed to: her bare paws made almost no noise on the stone, tiled and carpeted floors.

There was something very odd about this place. Her sense of direction was normally very good, and the main hallways in the central castle building were laid out simply, in a huge square. And yet... at one point, in the back corridor at the far end of the Castle, where the windows gave a dramatic view of the nearby mountains, she'd had a strong feeling of being lost. A couple of times she'd seen that monstrous Gryphon a short distance ahead, walking along a cross-corridor in cheerful defiance of the fact that not even the biggest hall she'd seen so far had enough room for it to fit.

And there was one room... Andrace suppressed a shiver that raised her hackles from the back of her neck to her tail root. Upstairs she'd discovered hallways full of mostly locked doors, apparently private rooms and suites. From behind one of those locked doors, her sensitive nose had scented something faint but unmistakeable wafting through the keyhole. The room was full of dead people. Not Undead, she knew what they smelled like, these were as dead as the badger in the knife shop. Some of them for a very long time. She'd had a moment of morbid fascination to open the door and investigate, but there were a few people walking about, and she'd probably attract attention crouching by the door fiddling with the lockpicking kit she had hidden in her purse.

Her muzzle quirked in a smile as she recalled seeing that fluff-brained ringtail at one point, with his spotted feline attendant. He'd been bending the ear of an unfortunate soul who looked almost ready to gnaw his leg off to escape. A less amusing encounter had been the Dragon matriarch with her granddaughter in tow, inspecting a display of paintings. The lioness had ducked back into a shadowy corridor beside a famous (and rather risqué) old portrait by Van Klomp, and hoped she hadn't been noticed. The ancient Dragon gave her a very uneasy feeling. Not as if she were about to attack, far from it, but Andrace couldn't rid herself of a feeling she was being inspected from the inside out.

The lioness sighed as she folded up her jacket and skirt, tucked them into her backpack, and began to get ready for the Masque. Her dress was laid out to air, and all its little hidden secrets were ready: none of them seemed to have been disturbed while she'd been exploring. She wished, though, the oh-so-powerful matriarch of the Icewing Clan, traders in valuable information second to none, had seen fit to give her a little bit more information about her target. After the bloody mess in the knife shop, any plans she'd had to wait and ask a few questions back at the hotel had gone right out the window. But maybe there was someone here she could lean on a little bit. She didn't remember hearing Kiet TiPaollo's appearance announced at any of the minor events held during the afternoon: she still didn't even know what he looked like (assuming the 'Cubi wasn't shapechanged into someone else) — she could easily walk right past him in one of the hallways and not know it...

A simple face in the crowd, that is what Kiet was as the magnificent, ancient ice dragon made her entrance.  Dragons and cubi had not been on good terms for the past few thousand years.  Dragons claim it was cubi that started it and cubi claim it was the dragons that started it.  Kiet smiled inwardly, he knew the truth.

As she drifted by, he was reminded quite strikingly how appearance was so very deceiving.  Elegant, charming, friendly, and even kind is how she appeared, but the truth was as frigid as the element her species embodied.

The ringtail's rather prominent ears perked up as the fox announced the imminent start of the Scarlet Masque.  He was about to emit some very unflattering, high pitched happy noise, but was stopped by a tugging at his sleeve.

Camiole gestured with her head away and behind the throng of attendees.  Kiet followed and both were met by an attendant.  The graying rat's mouth turned up in an oily smile, "this way to the changing rooms."

Within moments they were whisked away to an area where they could make preparations to acquiesce to the appropriate dress code.

Kiet had decided on the striking black, red, and gold of his most militant and infamous appointment.  The crisp lines of the uniform of a battle mage, the epaulettes and insignia of a general from a time long past, and a coat of arms of the Armies of the Unified Clans and Creatures.  

"You know there are very few here that will even recognize half of what you are wearing, and even then only if they were studious in their ancient history."  Remarked Camiole.

Admiring himself in the mirror, Kiet shrugged, "racial memory should still elicit fear among the beings, but I can't pass up a chance to wear a shiny uniform again!"

"how can something be shiny when it is soaked in so much blood..." the leopard mumbled.

Kiet raised a ear as he strained to discern her mumbling, "hmmm?"

"nothing... what I meant to say was... how the hell did we end up in the same dressing room???!!!" Ranted Camiole.

Kiet waved his hand nonchalantly, "meh, I was there when you were born and chased you through the halls as you dashed about naked vainly trying to avoid 'bath time'."

Camiole blushed and quickly slipped on her fancy royal attire, semi-medieval in appearance and quite sword and sorcery fantasy.  Her costume was cleverly disguised light armor and very flexible, while retaining strength.

The ringtail wondered about the curious little mirror he had concealed in his extradimensional space, but shook it off for now, there would be time enough for that later.  He was fairly certain this ball would be rather revealing.

Both exited the dressing area to join those waiting, Kiet gleeful and Camiole ever on edge.  As he walked down the hall, Kiet brushed past a familiar looking lioness, but he could not remember where he had seen her before.  He payed little mind as he reached the waiting area.          

Floating about in a corner of the room, trailing after the giant daffodil, Tim was still somewhat bemused at the way the scenery twisted itself around them. On the one hand, the roof was no higher than 12 or 14 feet, here in the atrium. And the chandeliers hung down to about ten feet off the floor.  Yet Rover, who towered over all the other guests, yet didn't reach anywhere near the ceiling he should be batting his head against, had made several heroic attempts to leap up and grab one, without any success so far.

With any luck, she thought, the attempt would keep him occupied for the next few hours.

Barely had that crossed her mind, glancing shiftily from side to side and moving quickly to avoid being run over, but the situation changed, once more. With a cry of "Shiny Lollipop!", Rover made a prodigious leap halfway across the room. In yet another eye-gouging image, he sailed over the heads of the guests, and under the chandeliers, fifteen odd tons and sixty feet of length barely brushing past with a tiny amount of wind, and landed neatly - and much lighter than Tim expected - with a light whump, his paws neatly on either side of the resplendent red, black and gold vision that was striding down the hall. Before either of them could react, the giant daisy towering over him, and yet no taller than he was, extended a humongous tongue, and plastered him from toe to forehead in a tremendous, wet, slobbery lick.

Immediately followed by "Bleaurgh!", the daisy settling back on it's haunches and pawing frantically at the tongue, attempting to wipe off the taste.

On the heels of that, Tim managed to pry herself out of the crowd, glancing up at Rover before turning to survey the now somewhat damper, and slightly less dashing outfit on the ringtail. "I do apologise, sir." She winced. "I've been trying to explain the concept of 'appropriate behaviour' to him, but it's an uphill struggle. Is there anything I can do to help?" she looked attentively at him, whilst trying to keep her other eye on her charge, in case he came up with any other hair-brained ideas.

A fireplace at the far end of the room crackled and spat behind its plated grating, occasionally shooting glowing embers onto the cold stone floor as some pocket of moisture in the wood that burned exploded. A light red carpet clad the rest of the room's floor, giving the fireplace itself a wide berth as it wrapped itself around each corner to keep bare feet warm and comfortable. The fire cast wicked dancing shadows throughout its entirety, mimicking its own flames flickering and jumping behind the grate. With this light, Esme was doing her best to put in her golden earrings in front of a tall gilded mirror. She sat on the large, but not unreasonably so, bed that was granted to her as part of the room's furnishings. A long purple velvet dress flowed across her body to touch the carpeted floor, with flouncy sleeves lined with black lace. Attached to it was a black bodice of the same material; decorative black lacing pulled it tightly against her up the front to a square neckline, topped off with a simple black choker. Finished with the earrings, she put her glasses on and placed her hands in her lap, frowning slightly. Pretty, but I feel so pretentious. She closed her eyes, and unbidden, the memory of her encounter with the strange and courteous fox returned to her.

She had expressed an awkward smirk at his mannerisms, and still wondered just why everybody seemed to treat their froggy companion as some kind of anathema. Esme had been quite surprised when the fox readily kissed her hand, something she was wholly unused to. "No, I don't mind at all," she smiled with a light blush behind her fur, trying to hide her embarassment badly. "I'm afraid I don't remenber you, however," Esme replied, raising a single eyebrow above the rim of her small square glasses. "I'm not sure I can speak personally with a person who hasn't even told me their own name." She giggled softly, perhaps trying too hard to be sociable.

Camiole tensed as the huge daffodil gryphon leaped at Kiet.  Her hand slipped into the extradimensional weapons space in which she kept her deadly polearm.  The leopardess had only fought two huge gryphons in her life.  The first time she was young, the creature managed to escape and only the timely intervention of a healer prevented her from bleeding out.  The second time was later in her life, and she had effortlessly severed its head from its body and gouged out its eyes.  She had then hurled the body part into the center of the Great Chambers of the Gryphon Aerie, sparking a war that cost the feathered avians dearly.  Most of the dumb, huge gryphons know better then to attack a creature vastly more powerful then it.

Moments before the slurp, Kiet had waved her off before she drew her deadly ace.  She cringed as it landed, but her jaw dropped as it licked him.  A small giggle escaped her as she fought hard to control her urge to guffaw uproariously.  

The shadow that the ringtail cast, elongated and stretched out, joining Tim's.  A black ichor boiled out from around her feet swirling up her body's curves, crawling over her feathers, and snaking across her shoulders.  The ichor slowly coalesced into a vague furre shape, resolving back wings, head wings, a huge fluffy tail and other body parts.  Kiet, untouched by slobber, moved his muzzle close to the right sound channel of the smaller Gryphon.  He was careful to show the nice sharp teeth contained within as he spoke, but he maintained a nonthreatening vibe.

"Ms..."  the thought was easy to pick up as he asked the simple question, "...Tim, do not worry, I have had far worse things happen to me in my time, luckily I keep a handy puppet of substitution for just such a case." Carefully he gestured to the now wet, but rather remarkable wooded puppet standing in his place.  For all intensive purposes it was perfect, save the pivot joints where limbs should bend.  A very elaborate kabuki theater doll made life size.  The thing bowed and burst into a flurry of speed, dashing to the right and instantly fading from view.  

"Believe me young lady, I have taught a class or two hundred in the art of surprise.  A few of us feed off of it, but after teaching it, eventually you become quite immune to the effects."  Brushing himself off, Kiet moved away from Tim, and waited to gain entrance.

Mel contemplated her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her gown absently as she made her final decisions about her attire. At least no one was trying to rush them out of the room since her grandmother had put out the fire in the fireplace and lowered the temperature to something more tolerable.  The gown, a sheath of midnight blue velvet looked fine, although she shortened the train so it just brushed the ground enough to let the silver lace of it's lining rustle as she moved. Considering the circumstances of the evening she had piled on her custom jewelry to a point short of overdone. She glanced over at her grandmother's preparations and decided that she was quite safe from overdoing it. But the older, larger, and more powerful matriarch could carry off a more glittering ensemble without looking like a display case.

One more glance at herself and Mel remembered what she had wanted to add. A quick spell and her plain white wings carried a design. Not quite a tattoo but almost appearing as a glow from inside. The symbols appeared just decorative if looked at straight on but if looked at out of the corner of the eye they seemed to become more meaningful. Flaring her wings to check the entire pattern Mel caught a faint glare from her grandmother at a nearly tipped over perfume bottle. The room provided wasn't quite big enough for such an exercise. Neatly furling the offending appendages Mel checked them from the side view. Even folded enough of the effect showed to satisfy her that she didn't need to redo the spell. In it's own way the effect was a more ostentatious display than the jewelry.

Her own preparations done Mel settled in to wait for both her grandmother to finish getting ready herself and for her last minute instructions.

The consternation on Tim's face at having the stranger appear from her own shadow, and address her by name, was nothing to the surprise apparent in Rover's reaction to his "shiny lollipop" apparently vanishing into thin air.

He blinked, turning his head from side to side to gaze at the spot where the kabuki doll had been, then, crouching down, he sniffed carefully at where it had vanished. Then, very carefully, he reached out one giant paw, and tentatively poked at the floor, rapidly drawing his paw back, as if scorched. His head reared back, and tilted to one side, quizzically. Then he tilted it the other way, and brought one paw down on the spot, hammering down with a massive boom that shook the room, rattling the windows, and leaving an impressive paw-shaped dent in the stone floor, cracks radiating from it. He then peered into the dent, patently looking for his missing playmate - perhaps hiding under a flagstone - before raising his head and gazing around. As he did so, however, he caught site of Kiet sauntering away. He looked after the pair of Cubi, then back at the dent in the floor, confusion as to how that had been done evident on his face. And then he turned to Tim, plaintively.

Tim hadn't moved, still shocked. He leaned down - or possibly up, given the weird space distortion - and nudged her gently on the shoulder with his beak. Tim blinked, shook herself, and glanced at her charge. "I told you to be careful, didn't I? No playing with strangers, right? And what happens? Tsk, tsk, tsk." She shook her head at him. He assumed his usual hangdog position. She looked fondly at him. "Look, I know there's lots of shiny stuff here. Just be careful, ok? Ask first, ok?" He nodded, his shamefaced look somewhat obscured by the mask. She patted him gently on the beak. "Good boy. We wait here for a bit, ok?" Another nod. "And no playing with strangers! Particularly ones that don't want to play." An emphatic nod.

Tim relaxed. "Good boy."

Elyse wasn't about to make any comments about types of magic or aptitude; in her case, humility and a religious despise for self-centered behavior had been mixed with a sort of shameful and grudging acceptance of the need for discretion over the years. With practiced conversational deftness, she downplayed herself.
   'It's probably not a matter of skill, since I cheated,' she said in a very frank tone of voice, dismissing the lynx's modesty in an instant. Anything she might have said after though, never was. Esme's second question hit spot on a sensitive point that sent shudders of unpleasant reminder through the bat's thoughts. She ran a number of ideas through her head, not least of which was the ever-persistent question as to why she herself were there and the many assorted and varyingly horrible speculations attached to it. A little anxiously, she twirled her fingers in the cloth of her dress. It would be so nice to sit down and relax and think about things. The trouble was that she didn't seem to get the opportunity.
   Elyse was just about to say something, when she was interrupted on the spot, by a fox as smooth as an oil slick. And, to her at least, about as pleasant as one as well. There was something... glazed about his smile. Something that disconnected it completely from the expression of his eyes, as though his face were merely a mask, fit absolutely seamlessly over his bones but not attached to his eyes either by musculature or by any common sense of purpose. Yes, a mask. How appropriate for the occasion. But that wasn't the bad part of it though. If only it had extended to his expression, she might have been able to chalk it up to the sort of common, calculating evil that you saw in any sociopath demon. But not only could she not feel a speck of emotion or consciousness from him, or any twinges of magic, but she got the overall impression that he wasn't even there at all. That who she was seeing simply wasn't there. Or that he was, but that he was merely a puppet, or an image of... something else. The thought disturbed her in extremis, and would have made her shiver as he nodded at her, were she not already steeling her nerves from before.
   Then the mask - the man, she reminded herself - asked if he could speak to Esme in private, and Elyse's face froze. Her mouth opened and closed, forming a great 'no!', and she tried giving a few stiff signs, as discretely as she could, to warn the lynx off. It was too late though, as they had already turned and walked off.
   'Shit!' she hissed, just under her breath. The tendons in her hands tightened with frustration, and a a few glasses on a tray a couple of steps away from her quivered. She looked at Jeremiah, now with even more intensely smouldering irritation. She looked as if she were contemplating slapping him. Then, just when your average person would probably have turned away or covered their face, she turned on a dime and positively stalked across the floor toward one of the attendants to be directed to a room.


Face locked in still, bitter contemplativeness, the rat watched the exchange with a clear sense of distaste. The Lynx was of no real interest to him. The frog... was a moment of unpredictability, nothing more. Detrimental if one wanted to formulate a truly solid plan, but easily dealt with. The bat, however...
   Slowly, the rat drummed his fingers against the book in his hand. It was the strangest feeling, but there it was. Not exactly distracting him from his planning - he was far too good at multitasking for that - but at least impeding it a little. Curiosity willed him to explore it, but he restrained himself with the iron-hard determination he had come to develop over the years. One did not live as he had without that sort of thing. Priorities were key, when you had no way of knowing how to proceed.
   The rat sighed. A pity, he thought. It wasn't that he was disinterested. He certainly would have liked to explore the idea. At least, as far as a certain point. But for now, he'd just change masks...
   The Doctor turned on the spot, light colored a slight sheen of bloody red glinting off his glasses, and was gone. It was a trick that might remind many of certain movies, or magician's shows, where something passes in front of someone apparently standing quite far from any sort of hiding place for just a brief moment, and they vanish. The sort of thing to which the trick usually tends to be fairly simple once one gets the hang of it, and which depends on perspective or some momentary sensory trick. Yet somehow, the rat had managed to disappear between the narrow obscuring figures of people, without any blinding flash or blur of movement, just casually walking... out of view from every direction.

As Rynkura and Gareeku gradually made their way to the castle inside the carriage, the white wolf's eyes stayed transfixed on the scene outside that passed them by as they travelled. It was beautiful, to say the least. The lupine warrior did not often take the time to take in the scenery on his travels, but looking at the scenery outside of the carriage reassured him that he should take the time to appreciate such beauty.

After finally arriving at the castle, Gareeku looked up at the castle in front of him. It was grand, to say the least, suitably matching the grandeur of the surrounding scenery. Lowering his head to look ahead at the castle door, the wolf took the tigress' hand once more, before walking into the building having shown their invitations to the guards. They had arrived.

As they made their way inside, Gareeku could not help but notice the array of creatures present. There was certainly a wide variety, and the wolf had not failed to notice the huge gryphon present. It was quite hard not to after all, considering the size of the thing. Hoping that whoever the gryphon's company was keeping a very close eye on him, the white lupine continued onwards.

Having paid attention to the speech that the vulpine made who was stood atop the table, Gareeku smirked somewhat at Rynkura's comment, waiting for the other guests to arrive and to see what events would unfold.

I was weak, Elizabeth privately lamented.

In spite of the melancholy implications of that statement, Elizabeth did not seem depressed in the slightest. No, she was utterly infuriated - the gliding motions to her otherwise elegant gait was replaced with sharp, perfunctory turns and jerks, a furious, smoldering glare furrowed her brow and made her eyes blaze, and anyone who crossed her path in the slightest was rewarded with a punishing glower that thoroughly illustrated her ire. Elizabeth had plenty of reasons to be upset, having been deceived, manipulated, and defeated in one day. How the mighty had fallen! Elizabeth had let her guard down, something she never would have allowed in the past. She shouldn't have been so careless at the funeral home, she shouldn't have allowed Tobias's similarity to her late husband affect her rationality, and she shouldn't have agreed to the impossible demands of the one who was responsible for all of those indiscretions.

She shouldn't have agreed to them, but she did. She did because what that accursed bitch had said intrigued her. Jyraneth had abandoned all of her followers, to the point she would not seek retribution for their insubordination, for straying away from her edicts and teachings. That was what Elizabeth had convinced herself during her solitude, but the fact there was a possibility Jyraneth was still orchestrating life from the sidelines had shaken her to the core. Elizabeth did not consider Eurydice trustworthy, but as long as that possibility existed, Elizabeth would do what she wanted. The lasting indignity was agonizing.

Elizabeth was finally at the Castle gates. She briefly assessed the edifice, feeling the activity within its stone walls, and sighed. A few hours. Wonderful. Now where was she going to begin her search?

Andrace checked herself one last time in the little changing room's full length mirror. She ran a brush roughly over her wild mop of hair, then used a small fine-toothed comb to give the fur on her face, shoulders, arms and chest a quick grooming. She wore a strapless floor-length dress, creamy white satin and lace with glittering gold and pearl trim, that left her muscular arms and shoulders exposed. A white drawstring purse decorated in a floral motif dangled from her hand by gold-thread strings, and a pale lavender mask perched on her broad muzzle.

She took a firm grip of the neckline of her dress and gave it a couple of wiggles and a bounce to make sure everything was settled comfortably. Then she brushed at several very precise points on the dress; at each one, a claw or even a whole fingertip slipped into a tiny pocket cleverly hidden by a decorative frill, or a fold of material. She nodded in satisfaction, then explored two larger openings in the sides of the skirt, held closed by quick-release fastenings. Under the skirt, she had a long knife strapped to each thigh, almost long enough to count as a sword for a smaller Being like a mouse or ferret.

The lioness looked at her bare arms and sighed. "I love this dress," she muttered quietly, "but it ain't got sleeves t' hide stuff under. Ah well, there's ways round that..." She picked up her purse, loosened the drawstrings and put her hand into it. A lot further in than she should have been able to, in fact. Her arm was elbow-deep in the ten-inch-long purse when she started to rummage around inside it. She pulled her arm out with a whispered hiss of steel against leather, and suddenly she was holding a huge sword with a long thin blade. She nodded to herself and put the sword away again, although the actual process of getting the foot-wide crossguards in through the hand-wide neck of the purse wasn't very clear. She paused, and her arm moved a little more. Andrace laid her ears back and hissed in agitation as her vision twisted for a moment into stark greys, and she knew her eyes were now faintly glowing with light like a curdled rainbow. A shiver ran down her spine as she let go of the hidden Death-sword, and her eyes returned to normal. She hated to take it with her like this, but she was afraid to leave it behind.

The next thing she fished out was a large pistol, made of a metal that might have been brass or bronze. It would have been almost a small cannon in anyone else's hand, but it fit easily and lightly in Andrace's grip. She worked the action, pulled out the magazine, and checked the top bullet. A red ring was painted around the tip, and a tiny feline skull and crossed bones. Definitely one of her sister Despina's special creations, although the magazine wasn't full any more, and her spares only had ordinary bullets. She put the gun away, grinned toothily at her reflection in the mirror, hooked the purse strap over her arm and left the room, locking the door carefully behind her.

The lioness strode back towards the hall to make her grand entrance, the hem of her dress swishing around her paws, just in time to encounter the ringtail again. He wore what looked like a very old-fashioned uniform, in a style she didn't recognise, although she had a feeling she might have seen a drawing of something similar in an old book. Well, it wasn't important, maybe she'd remember later. She looked around the growing crowd in the hall; there were a lot of Creatures here, the Dragons of course, and she could see several Angels, a handful of Demons, and... oh, joy. The monster Gryphon was here. Andrace tried to hide behind a tall, broad-shouldered Mythos (even bigger than her), but she could still clearly see when the Gryphon turned its head and leaped across the hall with a delighted squeal...

She blinked. Many of the things she'd guessed about the ringtail and his attendant seemed to be wrong. The leopard was certainly a bodyguard, Andrace had seen her twitch in an aborted grab for a weapon she couldn't see. The ringtail himself, though... all right, so he was a 'Cubi. An old one, powerful, and a mage. She'd faced very old Creatures before: for some of them, the bumbling appearance was only a mask, and sometimes their full age and power would show through. Could it be? No, that fluff-brained nincompoop was not the ancient and horribly dangerous General TiPaollo. No way, he couldn't be.

... Was he?

 The fox had smiled at Esme, golden eyes sparkling in a way that Esme hadn't seen before. He somehow seemed all dash and debonair, the epitome of the polite, competent gentlemen. He indicated the room he wanted them to speak in - first door on the right hall - and took her arm, giving her another genial smile.
His turned his head over his shoulder and hers, looking at Eylse and smiling with a grin that was anything but genial. His eyes, too, were knowing, as though he'd seen inside her head and was amused by what he'd seen.

The door was large, wooden, and painted red, and there was a small sign hanging by it with an anchor superimposed over the head of a horse. Inside, it was dim, but not dark - and it appeared to be a full service bar. A long, richly stained and highly polished wooden counter extended down one side, ending just before a green painted door that was now shut. The bar itself could hold almost twelve people by itself, and then there were many tables scattered about the area, as well as booths lining the other walls. At the moment, it seemed to be almost entirely empty, except for for the bartender absently cleaning glasses and lining the shelves with liquors. The fox motioned to an empty booth, holding Esme's hand until she was seated first, and then himself sitting politely across from her.

"It is truly a pleasure to see you in person, Ms. Broussard. My benefactor is most pleased you were able to make it here today." the fox smiled, taking off his glasses and polishing them on his equally-lemon colored cravat. "You see, he is a man of practicality and business, and he is a man seldom moved to charity. He is quite the stoic. But the troubles of the war-torn in eastern Belgae have reached his ears, and it's been the efforts of your group in particular that he's been most interested in." the fox smiled at Esme. "You specifically have reached his ears. One of the number you've healed was his son." the fox continued, and pushed his fingers together, setting them on the table.

"My master is eternally grateful for this, and would like to help you in any way that he can. But...he also asks, while your here, if you could do him an additional....ah. I shall not lie. He requires a real service of you in exchange for these funds, despite his gratitude for your salvation of his son." the fox seemed a bit hesitant while he spoke, while managing to convey a degree of empathy. His eyes had met with Esme's, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "In exchange for this, he is willing to let you name your price. Whatever you need to keep operating. To fund you completely, Ms. Broussard."

He tiled his head just slightly, peering over his glasses. "Can we count on you?"

* * *

"I see you've met General Ti'Pallo".

The voice came from behind Andrace, although she recognized it immediately. Horatio adjusted his tie as he stared at the imprint the creature had left in the flagstones.
He was dressed in what appeared to be the standard issue tuxedo of secret agents and security guards everywhere - white shirt, black jacket, black bow tie, cufflinks and shiny shoes - the only variation being the mask on his face. It was made of some silvery metal, etched with gold designs and patterns, especially around the eyes. He smiled at the lioness.
"And the gryphon's emmissary. It's an interesting place here, isn't it? No matter how big you are, you fit in the rooms." he grinned.

"Might I say, you look...nice." he said with typical understatement, turning from the footprint in the floor to her.

* * *

Elizabeth's options at this point seemed limited. She didn't know anyone at the party, and the one person she did know had turned out to be something else entirely. Walking in cold on a mission like this seemed foolhardy at the very best. She didn't even know what her target looked like.
But the Dark Lady had called upon her. That feeling of doing the bidding of Jyraneth at least appealed to the old pride she felt as a former Raider of Harla'Keth. She'd faced down worse than this before.

The doors of the Castle were open, and it wasn't likely she'd find the person she was looking for out here.

* * *

The room Elyse was directed too was the very same one she'd had earlier. The attendant left the door open. A sign, perhaps?

Her things were still in the room, and the barred windows that stared out onto the window-lit town below the castle was the same. Snow swirled outside. A storm, it appeared.
She sensed, more than anything else, Jeremiah standing in the doorway.

* * *

"Konbanwa." Cogidubnus said.

Kiet and Camisole turned their heads. A silver haired wolf made a short bow.

   He spoke from behind a heavy black mask. It appeared to be made from some polished wood or metal. His attire, different from most in attendance, was an immaculate outfit of the far east, in solid black. His feet were bare, but for two sandals, and a pleated skirt and sash were worn over two shirts folded right side over left. Silver vines snaked here and there over it, joining occasionally with symbolically placed circles containing a crescent moon - one on each wrist, and one on the breast. Kiet would know that there would be one more on the back. Silver lines were etched into the black mask as well, elaborate and curved.

"Enjoying yourself, General?" he tilted his head somewhat, yellow eyes better able to peer out from the mask.

* * *

The doctor disappeared, and nobody noticed.

The Castle itself stood stoic in the snow, shadows deepening as the clouds gathered over the very stars and moon, dumping snow onto the already icy landscape. In the corners, and in the high places where eyes had trouble seeing, the shadows were deepest, silent, and at the heights, the wind was cold as death. A ray of moonlight pierced through the clouds for just a moment, illumining a spot in the darkness. Blood seeped through a crack in the stones, where time and weather had worn away the mortar.

The cloud shifted, and there was darkness once more.

* * *

"Ah, he's a big bastard, huh?" Tim felt someone jab her on the shoulder. A stoutish dragon - she could tell by the wings and tail, but otherwise had to go by her gut - was staring quite impressed at Rover. "Innit a bit...strange, though, to send something as big as him to a dancing party?" she turned to the smaller gryphon, with a somewhat confused expression on her face. Or what could be seen of it, behind the mask and the cigar.

In the growing crowd of guests, Andrace's ears and nose gave her just enough warning of someone coming up behind her that the voice didn't come as a surprise. Besides, it was a very welcome scent and voice. She turned to face the tuxedoed and masked fox with a radiant smile. "Good t' see y' again, H'ratio," she said, "looks like y' boss didn't tear too big a strip off y' pelt... not where it shows, anyway."

The lioness waved her tail, keeping it low to the ground to avoid notice, towards the pair of 'Cubi. "So that really is General Ti'Paollo?" she asked. "I've seen him a few times durin' th' afternoon. Wasn't sure it was really him, though," she lied glibly. "I mean, I know 'Cubi can be a bit flighty, but he's really overdoin' it. An' if that's th' official rep'sentative o' th' Gryphons, things are goin' t' be even more int'restin' t'night."

Andrace's smile widened at the compliment, and her ears and whiskers perked up. "An' y' look pretty smart y'self. Y' like th' dress, H'ratio? It's m' fav'rite — I don't often get th' chance t' dress up fancy, an' when I do, I pull out all th' stops!" She performed a graceful pirouette on one paw, her tail and the hem of her skirt flaring out a little, and bounced to a halt as her spin brought her round to face the white-furred fox again. It seemed entirely by chance that she could now also keep the two 'Cubi in the corner of her eye without turning her head. The only fly in the ointment was that irritating twinge across her shoulders where the badger had thrown her into the wall. Fortunately her fur hid the massive bruises she could feel running down her back.

Now that she'd finally identified her target, Andrace intended to keep him in sight, and watch for any weakness or odd behaviour (well, odder) she might be able to take advantage of when she began planning her actual attack. His attendant — or more likely she was a bodyguard — might be a complication, though. She didn't want to kill the leopard as well, it wasn't necessary, but she knew sometimes it became virtually unavoidable. Her eyes narrowed very slightly, and the tip of her tail began an almost unnoticed bouncing twitch from side to side. Andrace Kithara was hunting.

Esme found herself slightly unsettled by the...perfect way that the fox stared at her; it was all politeness and upper class aristocracy. It was too nice. She felt herself pulled into the directed room, her previous thoughts of wonder and awe replaced by a different kind of curiousity. What did this man want, and what did he have to offer? How did he know her name?  All of this she would find out soon enough, she supposed, letting her companion lead her genially by her hand, gathering in the scenery. A conservatively lit bar surrounded her, probably meant to be used as a lounging area during the ball, but evidently it would do well enough for their private meeting while empty. She slipped into the proffered seat, adjusting her coat so that it draped gently off of the edge, leaving room to sit. A passive glance crossed between Esme and the bartender before she returned her attention to the fox, who was still all glib gentlemanly talk and mannerisms. Probably trying to butter me up for whatever he's looking to sell me.

Benefactor, hmm? Esme's mood suddenly brightened. I didn't even have to look for them myself! She had to stifle a sound of glee. Honestly, she had never really expected anybody to be that charitable. The aforementioned benefactor's indifference, however, turned her right back where she started. My efforts have gained his attention? "Well, I was only doing my job, but I-" I saved his son? Esme rubbed her face with one hand, closing her eyes. All of her patiences had eventually blurred together into a single screaming face. They were always screaming. Truthfully, she could barely remember any of those turbulet times; fatigue and sorrow eventually made everything simple reflex. Her hand slipped limply to her leg. "A-a-all our expenses? But the cost would be astronomical? Feeding, clothing, and providing medical care to thousands of refugees would be..." She raised one eyebrow. "This must be an incredibly valuable favor to ask of me if that is the payment." Suspicion ran readily down her face.

Elyse would have closed the door, were she not afraid that it might not open if she did. Or even worse, open into somewhere else entirely. Something was out to get her, and all these signs and indications, along with Esme's distraction just worsened the matter by showing that it wasn't exclusively interested in messing with her alone. She had to do something. But what?
   The bat pretended to survey her luggage for a moment, wondering whether if she should take something more than usual with her. Changing into something new wasn't going to be too hard for her; being a Cubi meant that you could focus on packing more interesting things than clothes. And of course she didn't have to show a slip of actual skin during the process. Still, she picked up her suitcase and retreated into the bathroom. It wasn't just that it felt indecent to change in plain sight of anyone who might walk by, but she wanted her own privacy to prepare as well.
   The smooth metal locks of the suitcase snapped open even before she touched them, barely a second after she set it down on the floor, as she turned in the right combinations with her mind alone. They were suicide-locks, plainly mechanical in their mechanism with only a simple but very persistent spell on their components that would turn any shapeshifted appendage solid as stone inside of them, and wired to a liquid explosive, which also connected to the case itself. The only way to open the case would be by force, or interfering with the safety mechanism in any other way than through the locks, which would trigger it to self-destruct together with all its contents. It was the standard sort of safety mechanism that a lot of bounty hunters and couriers depended on. Uncomplicated but as close to magic-proof one could get without having to rely on more finicky and expensive magic.
   Not that she had brought anything that needed such safeguarding. There were things that could get around such simple tricks as well, so she had only taken what she usually did. Various items neatly stacked and strapped down inside the suitcase, ranging from books and sketch paper to curious little metal pendants, small magically sealed lacquered boxes and vials of differing colors, branded with scribbled little paper strips. And, attached to the top, a slender, exquisitely functionalistically designed curved knife with a serrated back, long as her forearm, perfectly golden. Its laquer sheath was attached right beneath it. She unstrapped them both, slid the blade into its cover, and pressed it to the small of her back. It sank in completely as she shapeshifted. Next, she quickly pried out a few vials and metallic cylinders, which she slipped into a strap around her thigh. Then she stood.
   The next transition wasn't as smooth, quick or thorough as it might have been. Her magic might have been sub-par from a few points of view, considering her age, but while circumstances had kept Elyse away from practicing much magic, she had possessed ample time and an abundance of mental focus to keep her racial abilities top-notch. It was just that she was a little on edge. Still, the smooth, side-slitted white silk dress with golden embroidery she wore when she stepped out into the corridor once again and the matching arm-length gloves, all decorated with a few golden chains and the odd red star or red sub-layer hinting at the edges, was good enough to rival the best seamstress or jeweler's work. Her mask was an icon of beauty, a face of gold and porcelain white, crested by a seven-spiked halo, smiling gently. For some reason though, she had added a pair of cut lines along the undersides of the eyes and down the cheeks, colored crimson red. She wasn't sure why. It was just that it had seemed too plain without them.
   The bat barely waited for the attendant to offer to escort her back, before she fell into a smooth but quick glide. She had to get hold of that lynx again...

Kiet returned the bow, "Hmmm, for all the decoration and metal on this that I wear, I could be mistaken for the conductor of a marching band.  However, you must be a student of history to recognize these insignia for what they once meant.  A student of the history of war." 

Kiet tapped the right side of his mask, a fine black metal with an etched, gold lined and wired patch around the right eye opening.  The left there was painted a symbol to many would appear as a stylized musical note in red-gold.  A disproportionate figure eight with the lower circle transversed down the center by a line that curls to the right like a tail.

"technically the rank would be High General, but it is mere semantics and really means little these days.  I find your attire to be quite nice, simple and yet elaborate and fine in detail.  A very elegant far eastern design, do you practice of the arts of the east?"  The ringtail stroked his chin, thinking back to the previous day, "I would say my time has been rather interesting to this point, and I imagine it will only become more so.  Possibly even dangerous... eh Camiole?"

Kiet lightly elbowed the leopardess who was trying to adjust her venetian mask.  Fine silver edged the mask and rose to points at the back, elegant jade green scroll work wrapped around the eyes except at the bridge of the nose where the polished ivory white lacquer made an abrupt break between the green.

"I would not joke about such things sir."  Her thoughts were split between the conversation and communicating mentally with the others.  Jayce... Simon, are you two at point Bravo yet?  I need the golem in the air, on standby... just in case."

Roger Cam, we are on station awaiting orders.  Two unobtrusive night owls lingered on the castle grounds, Big G is in the pipe, five by five.       

"Make sure everything is prepared for when I return. I would rather the business not suffer as a result of this. No. Thank you. I expect everything to be in order when I get back. I will contact you when it is time for me to leave. Goodbye..."

With a press of a button, the call ended. Putting the phone to one side, the jackal looked up and out of the window to his right, watching the scenery pass him by as the carraige he was in made its way towards the castle. The coldness in the air was biting, but this did not seem to bother the black-furred canine as he picked up the white masque as well as the invitation from the seat beside him.

Leaning back in his seat somewhat, he smiled to himself. Occasions such as these were most enjoyable, and considering the prestigue of the ball that he was making his way to. He was used to attending balls and gatherings for the more affluent citizens of furrae, be they being or creature, but had never had the pleasure of attending the Scarlet Masque. To have been invited to one of the most, if not the most, prestigious ball known to Furrae, is an honour he was most satisfied with.

One thing that did surprise him was the fact that the Scarlet Masque was still being held even after the blood-soaked revolution that had occured only months prior. Putting this thought to one side for the time being, he opened the door to the side of him as the carriage stopped, stepping out into the cold night air.

"I will let you know when I wish to leave." The jackal said to the driver of the carraige, adjusting the tie around his neck somewhat. The attire the stranger was dressed in was a suit made of the finest fabrics, sporting a black pair of trousers, shoes, and a white shirt, with a red waistcoat and tie under the suit jacket, the tails of which blew softly in the slight breeze that lasted for only a moment. "I trust that, when the time comes, I will not be kept waiting."

"Yes sir." Came the only reply from the brown-furred otter who drove the carraige, before leaving his boss to it.

With a slight smile, the jackal slipped his masque down over his face and made his way inside the castle. As he did so, he handed the attendant his invitation. Looking down, the attendant noticed that it had been made out to a certain Cerebus Morax.

As Cerebus entered the room where most if not all of the other guests were located, the fox had stood on the table ahead and begun his welcome.
And here I am without a dance partner... thought to himself as he listened to the vulpine. It was then that, after the fox had finished, Cerebus noticed a familiar figure among the guests.

Well now...isn't this just an interesting turn of events... the jackal thought to himself with a dark smile on his face. He wouldn't have expected someone like Gareeku, the one he once tried to kill and use as an experiment subject, to be present at an occasion such as this, but it mattered not. The night had only just begun, and already things were looking more interesting than Cerebus had initially thought.

"Good evening, Mr Manoko. A pleasant surprise to see you indeed..."

Hearing this voice just over his shoulder made Gareeku's blood run cold. Eyes widened, he recognised that voice instantly; a voice that belonged to someone who should be dead.

"...You...you're alive..." the wolf stammered quietly, continuing to look staight ahead so as not to attract attention. "You should be-"

"-Dead? Why yes, that did seem the case didn't it. After all that was quite the nasty cave-in, don't you think...?" Cerebus replied back with a quiet chuckle. "I suppose my stubborness is too much for it's own good sometimes. And I see you are present with someone else, as well. A pleasure to meet you, m'lady."

"I swear Cerebus...if you cause any trouble tonight..." Gareeku threatened with a low growl. "I'll make sure you don't come back."

"Oh please, Mr. Manoko. Tonight is not a night for violence as you seem so prone to carry out." the jackal scoffed. "I am here because I was invited, much like you I can only imagine. Anyway, I must be off now, I am keen to take a look around. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Manoko."

And with that, Cerebus left Gareeku and Rynkura, the wolf looking somewhat over his shoulder at the jackal's back as Cerebus walked away. "I certainly didn't expect to see him again...damn it..."

Rynkura, while waiting for the party to begin and watching the guests walking around, couldn't help but keep her eyes upon the various works of art surrounding herself and Gareeku in the gallery.   It had started looking to be a peaceful, cultured start to the event.  Perhaps something interesting was bound to happen...

Not the moment that she'd thought so, did her ear swivel to catch the sound of someone's voice addressing Gareeku.  Casually she glanced back, though fully aware of the wolf's demeanor in the presence of the jackal.

Rynkura simply nodded her head upon being greeted, and observed the banter between Gareeku and this Cerebus without much more to say.  She did however become concerned, for she knew that kind of reaction all too well...having seen it much from Aisha concerning any demon.

Once he left, the tigress hummed.  "Well, he seems rather full of himself," she murmured, before glancing back to the white wolf.  She observed that he was seething with more than a little anger, cursing under his breath.  In a sort of motherly gesture, she laid her hand on Gareeku's shoulder.  "My young friend, would it be too much for me to ask who that man is, to put you on edge so?"

The fox nodded, and rested his chin on tented fingers. "It is as you say, Ms. Broussard." he said, giving her a somewhat knowing smile. "Although, my employer is not so mercenary as that. His fortunes, as they are, rise or fall depending on your success." He leaned back, the leather in the chair creaking as he moved, and reached into his jacket. He produced a slim cigarette case, silver and shiny.
"Do you smoke, Ms. Broussard?" he said, plucking a cigarette from the case. He laughed to himself a moment later. "Of course you don't. You're a doctor." he said, and snapped the case shut. He grabbed the cigarette between his teeth.

"Smoking is a lot like doing business with bad people, Ms. Broussard." the fox said, lighting the cigarette. He puffed on it for a moment, and the ember at the end glowed in the dark room. "It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and in the end, it's liable to kill you. But once you start, it's awful hard to stop." he blew a cloud of smoke away from the table. "And like cigarettes, bad people have ways of getting you hooked. Instead of nicotine, they use blood."

He looked at Esme carefully. "I don't know if you have an interest in politics, Ms. Broussard, but if you do, you probably know that trust doesn't exist among...the politically minded, I suppose." The end of the cigarette glowed as he inhaled. "And when you do business with bad people, this is something they are very careful about. They don't trust anybody. So, do to business with them, you have to a reason to not...change sides, as it were. If you don't have a reason..." he smiled, and his teeth shone in the dim light. "They make one for you."

He dragged an empty condiment tray over and ashed his cigarette in that, putting it out in the process. "I trust I don't have to paint you a picture of what's happened, however. Bad people kill you in the end. If they can't do that, they do their best to ruin you. There is...a man, here. A ringtail, I'll point him out to you later, who has evidence of some of my employers past misjudgements. I cannot take it from him myself for...various reasons." the fox's expression darkened momentarily. "But you are uniquely suited to getting close to him, beg-, asking for money." he reached into his coat pocket again. "All we ask of you is that you give him this." he pulled a ring from his coat. It was heavy silver, with the sign of the Red Cross in enamel and coral. "Give him this...and walk away."

He waited expectantly.

* * *

The wolf smiled at Kiet. As smiles from wolves were wont to be, it was bright and full of fangs and amusement. "I'm just a soldier, General. Sometimes, being a soldier is more than just knowing how to kill. But...this would be a distortion." he said, his smile fading just slightly. "I am merely a lover of old things."
He tilted his head again. "How long since you last marched? I have been busy over the last three hundred years. I don't think I recognize that uniform firsthand, though."

"As for the arts, I am." he paused, looking at both Camiole and Kiet alternatively. He turned back to Kiet eventually, and made a short bow. "My name is Cogidubnus Mithlome. Yourselves?"

* * *

Horatio grinned at the lioness. "Not where it shows, no. My boss is nice like that."

He raised an eyebrow at her inquiries, but nodded in assent quickly. "Yes, that is General Ti'Paollo. I wouldn't...Cubi are flighty, yeah. He's been around a long time though, so don't be fooled. He's got a history written in blood." Horatio pursed his lips, looking at the incubus, and then back at Andrace. "Thanks for the compliment though, Ms-...Andrace. Just your standard monkey suit..." he paused, looking at Andrace. He tilted his, and then began a slow grin. Presumably, there was a sparkle in those green eyes, behind his shades.

"You look like you're found a mouse trying to carry off a piece of cheese bigger than it is."

* * *

Cerebus took a sweeping glance of the room after moving past that unfortunately lucky adventurer, and not seeing anything particularly interesting, took the first door in the left and began down the hallway. From somewhere he produced a mask that he quickly snapped into place, a solid, elegant white plaster attached with elastic. His strides took him down the hall quickly, reaching the end and then taking the stairs down into the cellars. He seemed to know where he was going, certainly.

In the cellars, the gothic flavor of the castle only seemed to intensify. Humidity and cold made it dank, the black stones now black due to grime as much as actual color. The hallways here seemed labyrinthine, for someone who didn't know where they were going. He produced a long thin knife from his jacket, his steps becoming light. He turned corners seemingly at random, but eventually a pattern emerged - he was heading south, and downwards. No sound but his footsteps echoed in the stone hallways.
The Castle, it appeared, had more than one or two basements too. The stone floors eventually gave way to tunneled rock. Cerebus let out a grin.

"Simple enough. Just remains to..." as he stepped forward, instead of walking into a cavern carved from the heart of the mountain, he instead walked straight into what felt like a solid wall. He cursed, dropping the knife. Blood trickled from between his fingers.
"The hell-"

He looked around abruptly, at surroundings that weren't there a moment before. He looked back, and the cavern before him was a wall of solid stone. A smiling dog's face was chalked into the stone. His teeth gritted together.
Somewhere in the tunnels, howling laughter, terrible, forced, insane laughter echoed through the stones.

That man..." Gareeku replied, starting to calm down yet still somewhat in shock. "Is one who has tried to kill me more than once, and very nearly succeeded."

Sighing, the wolf rubbed his temple for a moment before turning to Rynkura.
"A few years ago, when I first met Aisha, I was travelling with a group. After an incident, however, I became separated. I quickly found out I was a wanted man, and my slight cockiness led me to be captured." Gareeku explained with mild annoyance at himself for getting caught. "I woke up in an unknown location, some sort of secret facility owned by Cerebus where I first came face to face with him. Turns out he had wanted to meet me for quite a while, for his own personal gain, of course."

Looking around for a moment, Gareeku found that Cerebus was now nowhere to seen. His eyes narrowing for a moment, he then turned back to the tigress.
"This....this curse...he wanted it for himself...wanted to make it some sort of weapon..." The wolf continued with a grave expression on his face. "I don't know whether he wanted to sell it to the highest bidder or keep it for himself. All I do know is that he has a lot of money, a lot of contacts and powerful allies, and a lot of knowledge, both technologically and magically. He's very dangerous."

looking around the ballroom are Aten was impressed. there were more people here then he realized would be at the event and more were arriving still. even see it was time to put away the bumbling slightly confused persona and put on the mask of utter confidence and slight arrogance. on to of his normal mask. taking a closer look at the guest he recognised some of them form his trips through the hotel lobby here was the teacher that he spoke with and there were those the Icewings'?  he wasn't sure but he'd watch them for a few moment then if they were then he'd approach them. he knew that the family was well know for information and secretes  not this his request would be much of a secret. he would pay the required fees if need be but he hand to know. what was the Valmont family  tree's secret and how did he fit in? there were dragon in his family how were they related to himself? this and much more was on his mind  and his pin glowed slightly in the light of the ball room.

Jeremiah pondered what little he'd seen of things in the ballroom. Elyse had apparently gotten the same bad vibe from the fox that he had. It was pretty obvious she knew something he didn't on this one, judging by how urgent she seemed. The woman had already seemed high-strung, but this was new.
His thoughts drifted back to the fox. He hadn't known the man, wanted to know him, or had anything to do with him in the past, but he'd known his name. He was quite plainly on staff and was playing the host, or at least the most visible host, but why in gods name would someone like that want to know the names of every butler on staff? Dear lord, I hope it's every butler on staff. What if it's just ME?
He fetched his mask out of his vest pocket and slipped it on, a plain white thing that got in the way of his glasses. The frog pocketed them and grumbled to himself slightly as he showed the bat back to the ballroom, where she'd hopefully become someone else's problem.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAheehahoohahahAHAHAHA
Oh shut up.

Rynkura listened carefully and intently to Gareeku's story, unmoving save for her ears which flattened slowly upon the mention of Cerebus' deeds.  She did indeed have good knowledge of the wolf's curse, and would have thought it inevitable that someone would have tried to take advantage of it.  To forever and always seek power and to torture others for it...she hated that kind of person, especially considering it was a part of her own race's reputation.  At least the jackal appeared to be a Being.

"Is he, now?" The healer said as the white wolf finished his explanation, turning to glance back at the path Cerebus had taken for but a moment.  Gareeku was a friend, and she had no reason to disbelieve him.  She spoke her next line in all seriousness.  "I dislike him already.  And despise the knowledge that he had tried to take advantage of you."

The tigress turned back to the adventurer, shaking her head.  "For now I am going to assume that he is as he said; here to amend his invitation to the party.  But rest assured, sir Manoko, I shall help you keep an eye on him."  She smiled slightly.  "Even the kind of power he wields should be knocked down a few paces here."

Tim gazed after the departing Cubi. "A big bastard? Yes, I suppose you could term him such. Mind you, Rover is fairly large, too - but then, Rover knows who his parents are." Tim turned to look at the visitor, and realised that she wasn't talking about exactly the same thing. "Oh! Oh, my apologies, I was entirely thinking of something else. Where are my manners, please excuse me. The large fellow here," and she waved one paw dexterously at Rover "is known as Rover; he's here as the representative of the Gryphons, whereas I, for my sins, am merely here to assist him where possible. I may be called Tim."

She bowed, briefly, then tilted her head to one side, and cocked an eyebrow inquisitively at her interlocutor. "And you...?"

Behind her, Rover leaned over her, one eye almost resting on her shoulder, peering down at the faint curls of smoke from the cigar. Or possibly just from the dragon, it was hard to tell...

Kiet cast his eyes downward, "I haven't worn this uniform in quite a long time... the last time... Cyra..."  The ringtail clenched his hands into fists as his headwings and back wings furled out to a more excitable position from their rest states, "no!  I really haven't come here to think about the darkness of old."

He returned the wolf's bow, as Camiole merely nodded, "I am Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo and this is..."

"Camiole TiPaollo... I'm his great, great..."

Kiet smiled happily, "yes, yes..."

Camiole took a deep breath, "...great, great, great, great..."

"Really that's fine dear." Kiet's smile had decreased significantly, showing considerably more sharp teeth.

Still she continued, "great, great, great..."

The ringtail's left eyebrow twitched and he was noticeably struggling to keep smiling, "I think he get's the idea Cam."

"great, great, great, great, great, great uncle."  The clouded leopard took a deep breath, huffing a bit exaggeratedly.

"Ah heh... anyways, Mr. Mithlome, what brings you to this interesting little gathering?  Shall thee be courting favor of the dragoness for knowledge of something thou seeks?"

Directly in front of Jeremiah, the bat snorted, and behind the close-fitting guise of her mask she allowed her face to lose its composure at last, her brow creasing and her teeth gritting. If the damn fool could just get rid of some preconceptions he'd probably be faster on the uptake...
Returning to the entrance hall, Elyse glared out, the blackness of her corneas turning the little glowing yellow dots at the heart of her eyes into free-floating little candles of piercing, accusing knowledge behind that mask. She tried to relax, tried to cast her mind out for sympathetic thoughts or to 'listen' for suspicion. The problem with the former was that no one seemed to be thinking that something rather than someone was threatening them right there and now, which left her in the dark, and with the latter that everyone seemed suspicious of everyone else, which was to be expected of diplomats and adventurers, and flooded her thoughts until she gave up. You could pick up so much more in a crowd, but at the same time you always got so much background noise.
Elyse almost groaned. She would have to talk to these people...

Andrace nodded soberly. "Oh yeah," she said quietly, "I know how dangerous even a young 'Cubi can be." In an apparently unconscious gesture, she raised her left hand and stroked the small green feather dangling from her earring on that side. "One o' th' old ones like him... don't y' worry, H'ratio, I'm just as fond as y' are o' keepin' all m' bits in one cuddly piece. I'm in no hurry t' walk up t' him an' tell 'im his mother was a hamster an' his father smelled o' elderberries." The lioness glanced sideways at Horatio, her whiskers twitching, then one eye closed in a slow, deliberate wink.

Andrace took a deep breath and relaxed. "Well, enough o' gloomy ancient history. Looks like th' Big Event's about t' start, are y' on th' clock or can y' stick around f'r a bit longer?" She nodded and cocked an ear towards the crowds milling near the entrance to the ballroom. A flicker of motion caught her eye, and without making it obvious, she glanced towards Ti'Paollo for a moment: the 'Cubi had fluffed up his wings and headwings, and looked annoyed with his bodyguard over something or other. Interestin'... she thought. Promisin'... if these two don't get on well, maybe they'll split up later an' I'll have a chance t' catch him alone. Get th' job done, hide th' body if I can, an' look innocent. An immediate escape might not even be needed, unless she was caught with a mouthful of 'Cubi feathers.

   Karazkt, was still in his little cell in his room. From all the vibrations, he could tell that something was definitely going on. There was a massive influx of new vibrations, ones from outside of this 'castle', as well as something big. Karazkt had little doubt that this was indeed the 'Scarlet Masque' that he had been pulled out of his comfortable workshop for. But...
   No one had yet come to get him. How...how could he leave his little cell if no one told him to come down to the Scarlet Masque? He couldn't! He'd fail his Queen and-
   His Queen. I want you to attend this 'Scarlet Masque', as the invitation states. You will go there, you will find out what I want to know, and you will return.
   Resolved. His Queen's command covered this.
   Karazkt used a dash of earth magic to open his cell closing his eyes as it opened, because the regular light would spoil his infravision. Using only his antennae to feel around, he slid himself out out of the cell with no hindrance. He reached back into the cell, opening up one of the two cubbies he had made, pulling out his tool bandolier. He stood up, and pulled the bandolier over himself, taking care to adjust all the straps and buckles neatly. He then reached back into the cell to the second cubby, and pulled out his goggles. He carefully slid them over his antennae and his shiny carapaced head, finally settling them over his eyes, once again making him even more bug-eyed than normal. He opened his eyes again, seeing everything with his infravision perfectly.
   He left the room, heading down to the huge hall where everything seemed to be taking place.

"Courting the..." Cog tilted his head at Kiet. "Ah. you mean Luna." he grinned, and shook his head. "Yes, she is here. I...ah, have met her before, under some interesting circumstances. I lived with the Icewing clan, at one point. I was...practically dead, you see, but...ah. That's another story." he paused, looking away for a moment. "The far north is...beautiful. In it's own way. But hardly a place I'd like to live."

He smiled at the Cubi. "But I cannot besmirch the hospitality of the inhabitants. I did meet Luna, and I have to say she is a bit overbearing. And I have nothing to ask the Queen of the Dragons that I do not already know. I am here, of course, because I was invited. And the food, sir, is not half bad." he smiled wolfishly again.

At that moment, a resounding clap echoed through the chamber. The conversational murmur of masked faces ceased, and everyone looked at the fox standing in front of the two large, ornate wooden doors opposite of the entranceway. He rubbed his gloved hands together for a moment, looking to and fro across the crowd. A giant grin was plastered across his face.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" he said, his voice carrying through the entire antechamber. There was a touch of magic in the way the sound carried, perfectly audible in every corner of the room. "It is with pride that I announce the formal beginning of festivities." he beamed at each and every one of them. "If you do not have your mask on, now is the time."
A few shuffles from the audience responded.

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, and bowed deeply to the audience, his arms folded formally. "We welcome you to the Scarlet Masque."

* * *

The doors opened inwards, pulled by hidden attendants.

Gray stone gave way to a floor of polished marble, pure white with veins of gold running through, that stretched on and on until it reached the furthermost ends of the room. The room itself was massive, easily large enough for the partygoers to play a rousing game of soccer, if they so chose, but the size of the room, or even the decor, was hardly the first thing that drew one's attention.
From the ground to the third-story ceiling, the far wall was made of glass.

The ballroom extended past the stone walls of the castle, the glass making up fully half of the room. It extended straight up until it reached the third story, at which the panes tilted at a forty-five degree angle until the met the ceiling of the room. Three stories of mezzanines wrapped around the more solid walls of the ballroom until they reached the very top of the castle, and on the third story, through some trick of magic or craft, they extended even into the glass portion of the room. At the far end, you could even touch the glass that reached for the ceiling, and watch the snow dust off the panes. Through some trick of magic, not even one of them was rendered opaque by the snowfall outside.
The magic had the effect of not only preventing the glass from collapsing from the weight of the snow, but also giving a spectacular view. The moon, high, full, and somehow red this evening, hung silently in the sky. The snow from outside fell softly, swirling across the panes with the wind. Looking out from the room, was like looking over the top of a hill - the forest, the one that was nearly unbroken for hundreds of miles, falling gently down the slope into the valley below. The marble floors rose up two steps before reaching the end of the walls and extending into the glass partition of the room, separating the rest of the room from the dancing floor, where the partygoers would dance under the full moon and starts, and amidst the swirling snow.

Tables covered the edges of the first floor, and the two mezzanines. On the right wall, however, the marble floor rose up into the main staircase to the second floor mezzanine. There was a covered picture at the top of the stairs. Half of the third floor was dedicated to the orchestra. They played the strings softly, waiting for people to filter in before beginning with waltzes and other dances.

The strings warbled gently, and the snow softly fell.

* * *

At the unveiling of the ballroom, Horatio instead chose to say nothing, and simply offered a smile and and arm to the waiting lioness. His emerald eyes were surely gleaming.

* * *

Brunhilda was one of those people that could manage to be crass under almost any circumstance. "Yeah, I got the feeling you drew the short straw when the buildings starting falling." she grinned at the little gryphon, and attempted to take another draw of her cigar. She coughed, and gave the now-unlit end a nasty look.

She noticed the big guy staring at her, and walked right under his nose while she relit the offending source of nicotine. Breathing fire doesn't come easily to ice dragons, and she coughed once before puffing on the smoking brand once more. "Ain't that right, big guy?" she said, giving the gryphon's foremost leg a playful punch. "Ah, e's just a big softy. My names Brunhilda. I'm the head of security for the Icewings here. When I'm in a good mood." she showed some fangs, a bit of smoke filtering through. "When I'm in a bad mood, my job is to beat people up."

"Anyway, just wanted t'say hi t'ya..." she leaned back, and snapped her fingers. "Fancy clothes, right. Always forget." she mumbled. She paused to twist a ring on her left hand upside down.
And a moment later was wearing an armored helmet, sloping like a beak, a flowing blue skirt (despite the difficulty of finding a flowing skirt for one so short), and a buffed and shiny and impressively proportional metal breastplate, complete with a motif of wings on the back. A warhammer over one shoulder completed the ensemble.

"Me mother's wedding dress, y'like?" she grinned at the two, patting Tim on the head, and started marching off towards the ballroom. "Don't get into any trouble, nao..."

  * * *

One or two people screamed at Karazkt, but seemed to get over it rather quickly. He'd have asked them what they were trying to say - he hadn't heard such vibrations before from surfacers - but they'd run away too quickly for him to inquire any further.

In any case, it did appear that the ball was under way. For some reason the surfacer love-hate relationship with the sky was heavily present in that room, with giant clear glass covering nearly half of it, and the other half opaque and looking like the inside of a goldworm's stomach.

"They will all kill you."

Karazkt felt, rather than heard, the message coming from the floor quite clearly, in nuanced vibrations through the floor. "Kill them before they kill you. Quickly! You have little time!"

* * *

Elyse felt someone tap her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am" She was standing on the stairway, and there was likely someone behind her needing to get past. She was about to mumble an apology as she turned around, stepping down and out of the way, when she noticed it was a white dragon in a black suit that had tapped her on the shoulder. She looked higher up the stairs.

The Queen of Dragons looked at her coolly beneath a mask of frozen fire. It writhed, as though trapped in a prison of glass or crystal, but nothing but magic kept it in place, sculpted with twists and flourishes around the ancient dragon's face like molten gold. Jewelry that glowed with an inner fire decorated her figure too, silver chains and loops of gold holding garnets and spinel that practically seethed in their sockets. Her dress - red as a winter flower - accented her slightly yellowish figure, making her look like a flame herself. She walked by the vampire bat with nary a word, nor another glance.

She did, however, smile as she walked into the ballroom, the crowd parting for her.

* * *

As Aten stomped through the castle, intent on finding the ballroom, he noticed a strange lady in a steel breastplate waving at him. He was about to wave back, when her smile evaporated, and with eyes narrowed and holding two fingers in the air, indicated that her eyes were watching him quite intently. She wandered off somewhere not too much later.

When Brunhilda punched him on the leg, Rover responded by bending down and nuzzling at her. Tim grinned. "Yeah, he's just a big softy." She sighed. "Who happens to knock down buildings by accident. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you."

At the dress, Tim raised one eyebrow. At least three different comments ran through her mind about being married in a helmet, but she manfully - so to speak - resisted the urge to speak her mind, or to make any comments about shotgun weddings, either. "I trust it looked as good on her as it does on you, yes."

Rover gazed after the retreating dragon's armoured back, then glanced down at Tim, and nudged her. "Friend?" he enquired.

Tim blinked, and looked up at her charge. "Huh? Oh." She flicked a quick peek after Brunhilda. "I'm really not sure, boy. I think she's busy working, anyway." She thought for a moment, then suggested "I'll tell you what, I'll try to ask her about it later, okay?"


At about that point, the Master of Ceremonies announced the commencement of the festivities, and the doors opened. The two of them drifted in that direction, Tim slightly in the lead, until they entered the ballroom. At which point, Tim stopped dead with a gasp, then glided forwards to the window as if pulled by a string, her gaze locked on the magnificent view. "My, my, my. Isn't this just fine..." She arched her head back, sat down, and spread her wings, luxuriating in the sense of space given by the massive windows. Behind her, overshadowing her, Rover did much the same, only much more impressively, then folded back up and grinned down at her back.
Leaving her enjoying the view, he silently padded off around the edge of the ballroom, peeking over the third floor at the orchestra, then slipping between the tables on the mezzanine, somehow, in a manoeuvre that would have made Mauritz Cornelius quietly applaud, then go looking for some aspirin.

Andrace's ears twitched towards the doors at the announcement. Her eyes widened behind her shiny lavender mask as she took in the sumptuous glass and marble vista of the ballroom. Part of her mind stayed on business, though, and she quickly began to analyse the layout, looking for anything that might give her an advantage, either in an attack on the 'Cubi, or in surviving the attack and escaping afterwards. Some exploration was definitely called for, but later. For the moment...

The lioness smiled at Horatio, and with a swish of her tail, looped her arm around his and stepped forward, joining the crowd of guests beginning to pass through the doors and into the huge ballroom.

Mel adjusted her mask, a rather mundane frippery of satin, crystal, and feathers compared to the caged flame Luna wore, and followed a few steps behind her grandmother. Really it was the best spot to make a quiet entrance since most everyone would be watching the matriarch's arrival. Grandmother tended to make an impact everywhere she went. Luckily today that didn't mean a crater 12 foot deep into bedrock. The short train on her gown rustled against the marble as she strolled to a point where she could enjoy a panoramic view of the of the stars and snow. She wondered if her grandmother had arranged the snow to make the night more pleasant.

Taking her fill of the view she started assessing the other invitees. It was a much more diverse crowd than in years past. Downright eccentric in fact. But the gryphon was adorable all gussied up with a bow on his tail.

A chilly void. Elyse almost staggered, yet fortunately enough had the presence to catch herself and glide away smoothly, her yellow augers for eyes following the dragoness fixedly in their dark spaces behind the mask. The creature's masked presence was a smooth, slick nothingness to all of her senses but her sigh. She practically radiated power. The bat found herself somewhat in awe for a moment. Not that the sight of the ballroom itself was not breathtaking as well, but for someone who had walked in procession through some of the greatest cathedrals and halls in the world as known, the element of size plainly lost its ability to inspire. And she herself was not so staggeringly interested in architecture. Still, the scenery was striking...
There was one thing that was worrying her though. The fox was back, which was cause for concern in itself, but the Lynx - what was her name again? Mesme? - had not yet returned.
Taking a few, slow steps, walking the stairs contemplatively, the bat followed along with the stream of people. Her face a tense expression of painful concentration behind her mask, she looked around... and listened. Somewhere...

At the corner of the stairs, a single man stood, the only one who hadn't put on a mask yet. Dressed in uniform, almost uninterrupted smooth black and still, he drew no attention, as he observed the passing crowd, blending in without actually putting any effort into it through sheer force of calm, unperturbed implacability. He spotted something in the crowd with a glance, grinned, and then reached behind him. A mask, the half to the right of it a red-lacquered smiling face of impassionate perfection, the other half to the left a twisted, bestial snarl, expansive, snaking points out to its side, slid onto the man's pale face. He walked forward, and blended into the crowd.

   Karazkt proceeded into the hallway when it opened. He noticed that several surfacers emitted unusual bursts of sound he hadn't heard before, right before they went off somewhere else. Curious.
   Even with his goggles and infravision, he also saw the way the hall was constructed, with the opposite end made of a transparent material, allowing a view of the sky. Strange how surfacers sequestered themselves from 'outside', and yet wanted to see it.
   As he stood around, unsure of what to do, he suddenly felt subtle, rhythmic vibrations in the floor, yet clear and distinct enough that he sensed it through the chaos of the people around him. He instantly recognized the rhythm; Insectis tapcode, used for distance communication though the crust of Furrae.
   Karazkt immediately dropped down to one 'knee', and pressed both antennae against the ground. They picked up the vibrations properly, and was able to discern the message.
   "They will all kill you. Kill them before they kill you. Quickly! You have little time!"
   Karazkt, for a moment, was at a loss to react. This was about the most irregular thing he had ever experienced. It was genuine tapcode, yes, and clearly meant for Karazkt, yes, but it completely ignored all the proper protocols of communication. And who could possibly be trying to communicate with him? The nearest Hive-City was more than a day away. His was further days away still.
   Karazkt also noticed that, for some reason, it seemed as if none of the surfacers noticed the message, which, by all rights, they should (or so Karazkt thought). Plus, he didn't smell any pheromones of aggression off of any of them (though of course, little did Karazkt know that surfacers didn't put off any detectable pheromones). How very odd.
   Finally, Karazkt responded. He accessed a little earth magic, and put it into the tips of all six of his fingers (three on both hands). He put his fingertips on the stone floor, and tapped a short message. As each magic-tipped finger struck the floor, a small, focused pulse was made, and Karazkt pointed them in the direction the message had came from. Each fingertip had a different 'frequency' of earth magic, making each finger put out a distinct pulse, which was necessary to replicate the nuances of the Insectis language. Though every Insectis above the Labor-Class castes in all the Hives could produce and understand standardized tapcode, Karazkt was only adequate at it, as it was the Insectis in the Communicator-Class castes who were the most adept at tapcode, could produce Hive-specific encryption, and had the longest sensing and sending ranges.
   Karazkt's message, basically, read as "Identify your Hive, please".

Jeremiah felt the dragon's presence before he saw them; an amphibian's sensitivity to the cold could be a boon in a room full of ice dragons, even if the weather left him sluggish half the time. He couldn't help but stare a little. The Queen of Dragons herself. Now, Jeremiah didn't like creatures much (and, when pressed as to why, he'd bring up a number of social and political points that were rather hard to fault him for being sore about), and the idea of nobility always struck him as a contest of whose grandaddy was a bigger murdering bastard than the other guy's grandaddy, but the dragoness' appearance struck him right in that little corner of his soul where the part of him that was still an artist hid when it wasn't in use. The woman, it had to be said, would probably be the ideal subject for a work of art. In fact, he was almost certain he'd seen a painting or two of her in his time, but that wasn't unlikely anyway. The finery helped, yes, but overall it was her poise. She didn't walk around like she owned the place so much as she was thinking of buying it and wanted to make a good impression on the current tenants.
No wonder folks figure she's the host.
The frog snapped out of it and looked around. Elyse still looked out of it, so this looked like a MARVELOUS opportunity to get away from the crazy lady at about half past now. Besides, he was supposed to be bringing around little snacks and whatnot. He started making his way over to the kitchens, relishing his condition's lack of anything to say for the time being.

Kiet nodded to Cogidubnus, "then we share something in common, I do not have business here.  Though, I think mother has some reason to have sent me in her stead."

As the doors opened, he offered his arm to Camiole in a gesture meant to satisfy royal protocol.  She took the offering and both entered amid the other guests.

He was momentarily taken aback by the splendor of the hall.  Very few times has he been treated to such magnificence in his time.  It spoke volumes to the wealth that had been accumulated and it brought even his bouts of excess throughout the ages into perspective.

"I really should have conquered a kingdom or two back then, Xe'Pherion is nice and all, but things like this almost make me want one of my own... almost."  Stated the ringtail with a sardonic hint to his tone.

Kiet gravitated towards the center, relieving a servant of a pair of glasses containing wine as he went.  He stopped and surveyed those around him. 

He was approached by a rather portly canine being in the splendor of a uniform resembling that of the Kaiser himself, "ah, you sir have the bearing of one whom has seen a campaign or two."

"Ah, Duke Hargrave of Astlund... how are you this eve?"  Kiet responded without blinking, taking the dog's hand firmly.

The Duke laughted heartily, "ah, so you know of me?  Capital!  Though I fear you have me at a disadvantage."

"Indeed."  Kiet smiled mischievously for a moment, "I am Kiet'Jaer TiPaollo."

"Well met.  I do hope this night proves interesting." 

Esme frowned as she cradled the burnished silver ring in her fingers, fidgeting with it as the now distant memory faded. She had accepted, of course. What else was she to do? The Belgaen government could never pony up with such money; the organization had to rely mainly on donations, and with permanent outside funding, the Corps could finally feed and clothe all of the refugees without drawing money away from their medical services, perhaps even expand its staff to a level where it could actually deal with as many patients as it needed to. It was an impossibly valuable offer, which was what bothered Esme the most. Give this ringtail the ring? The task could not have been more simple, but still, a million questions ran through her mind. Was it some kind of mark for assassination, or a similar symbol? She had heard of criminal organizations leaving such calling cards, but never something like this. Sighing, she crumpled up her hand, uttered a strange string of syllables, and the ring dissapeared.

Still glowering quite uncharacteristically, Esme maneuvered through the endless throng of assistants, dignitaries, diplomats, and attendants as she made her way through the extravagantly decorated hallways, her former awe at them lost within her confusion and puzzlement. With every one she passed, she shivered slightly. It was not out of fear; there was little chance of being attacked in the open in a place like this. Among the class of the ruling elite, however, she felt as if she was being physically and socially inspected at every moment in a way that went beyond mere judgement, and it was an anomaly to her. Amidst the lower classes and peasants, there was an unspoken air of politeness and amiability. She could have possessed three heads and it would have never even been hinted at in a conversation as if they did not even exist. Here, in this madhouse of aristocrats, such courtesy was merely pretense.

Although Esme had been in a few of the churches and temples in Belgae, as they were often used as staging points in medical emergencies, such glorious architecture never ceased to amaze her. She brushed one foot against the marble floor absently, attempting to fathom the monumental cost of such a wonderfully beautiful surface. The floor, however, was merely a prelude to the rest of the room, and her gaze slowly pulled up the spectacular thirty foot wall of impossibly clear glass that provided an impeccable view the full moon outside. No mere architect had accomplished such a feat; this was the work of skill and artistry that could have only belonged to a mage. Esme stared dumbly at it for several moments before the bump of a nearby body broke her from her astonished rapture. Blinking, she shook away the image and set to the task she had assigned herself: find the white-winged bat, Elyse. Perhaps she would be able to glean some information about her situation from her only associate at the Ball.

Before the doors had opened into the ballroom, Rynkura had kept her eyes on their surroundings.  Cerebus had seemed to disappear into the crowd, but more than likely it hadn't stopped the fact that Gareeku was still on edge for his presence.  The edge of the angel's wings quivered just slightly to remove the ruffled feeling she got at the thought of hearing what he'd done.  But she had promised the wolf that she'd help keep an eye out...and that, she did.

Soon enough, the attention of the crowd was caught.  At the head of the antechamber stood the vulpine from before, ever so dramatic as the occasion required, announcing the start of the Ball.  And when the grand doors opened almost as if from their own volition (from her point of view), even the tigress had to widen her eyes in awe.

The room was massive.  It probably would have had to be, due to the great amount of guests there to dance away the night.  The glass that made up half of the place was a marvel of architecture, though as a connoisseur of many things magic Rynkura suspected that little enchantments of sorts were there to help with the effect.  The moon gave the snow outside a small shine, accentuating it.

One of the things that caught the guests' attention was the sight of an elegant ice dragon queen, around whom, even the very air seemed to bow to her whim.  Another, certainly, was the giant gryphon that Rynkura recognized as Rover.  He looked as good as such a creature would at these sorts of events.

"My gods," the Healer chuckled at the sight, standing in the edge of the doorway when the way was just clear enough of visitors.  "Though this is not her kind of thing, Aisha will have to hear about all of this."

When the way was clear, she turned back to Gareeku with a smile.  "I suppose it is time to simply enjoy ourselves...with the strange things we have encountered it should have to be worthwhile."  The white tiger gestured with a courtly air to the ballroom.  "Shall we, then?"

Dispite the warmth and beauty of the ballroom Aten shivered. what was that about?  he wondered. why did that guard single him out to get his attention then indicate she would be watching him?  this wasn't good or was it? they few people he recognized seemed to be busy among themselves with other concerns and he was still uneasy about approaching the Icewing matriarch. she hand and aura about her that radiated power bunt not patience.  how would he even approach her? perhaps but putting himself in her path ever so slightly or  by approaching her granddaughter after paying his respects to the head of the family.

Looking her over he saw her again almost as if for the first time. He could not guess her age nor would he want to but he could see a beauty that he could comment on especially the way she carried herself so that she radiated a presence that commanded respect of her power and social standing. She was an utter lady but not one easily approached. what was it that the wolf had said? Something about Luna causing trouble again? The book had told him that Luna was not some moon goddess but Mel's grandmother. Perhaps he could use that as well as what he learned from the book it'self .  He could say he was pleased to meet her, true enough., and had he not met her grand daughter early he'd believe he was in the presence of a goddess come to Furea? not that was too blatant. he need to be more subtle and sincere in his wording.  behind his mask his brow wrinkled slightly. Power beauty and wisdom. a combination that was hard to describe and worthy of prising as any goddess would be.

Esme was just able to turn before she bumped into someone again. It was strange, since it really hadn't seemed as if someone were there the moment before. Her eyes meeting dark, glossy cloth at first, she was faced with a slightly intimidating mask of red and black once she looked up. She couldn't see the eyes behind the dark openings for eyes. She felt a hand on the side of her shoulder, barely brushing it.
   'I said, I apologize, miss,' a murky voice spoke from behind the mask. It sounded oddly unobstructed for coming from behind a heavy one-piece like that. 'You look a little bewildered. Is everything alright?'

"You'd think so, wouldn't you..." Gareeku muttered in response to Rynkura's comment about how Cerebus' talents would be knocked down a few pegs at the ball. Gareeku also knew, however, that Cerebus didn't need to be the most powerful person there, considering that he was very clever and devious. "You would be surprised..."

It was then, however, that the doors opened to reveal the main ballroom. Although the wolf's facial expression did not show it, he was certainly impressed by the grandeur and beauty of the ballroom. Listening to Rynkura, Gareeku nodded and took her arm, entering the ballroon with her. In the back of his mind, however, Gareeku wondered where Cerebus was, having not seen him since his little introduction.

I really need to learn to watch where I'm going, Esme thought with an intense frown, brushing off the front her dress as she rolled back up to gaze at the masked man before her. The impersonality of his appearance and voice was both intimidating and offsetting, and presented an anonymous appearance that did not match the geniality of his muffled voice. The physical contact made her pull away involuntarily; something about the obscurity with which this man exhibited himself was deeply and instinctively disturbing within her. "I...yes, I'm fine, it's quite alright," Esme mumbled, not quite willing to break the air of politeness that surrounded her on a simple and foolish hunch. "I'm just looking for somebody." Much to her dismay, the "somebody" that Esme was so earnestly searching for was certainly nowhere to be found.

This visit was rapidly becoming painfully frustrating. Quite stupidly, in her opinion, she had agreed to a deal with which she had no real familiarity with, and was too outwardly benign for her comfort. She most certainly did not fit in with the social and economic elite that surrounded her; she was a simple field medic and adminstrator, sequestered from the greater plots and schemes that came and went within Belgae and the surrounding kingdoms. I barely know the woman, and here I am searching for her like a lost, sick puppy.

 The upper class are many things - bloodless, some say, without heart or soul for any but themselves and their money. Stupid, incompetent, archaic and parasitic, others might contend. Some would go so far as to say the ills of society lay clearly upon their shoulders, a leaden weight in the march of progress. None, however, could say that they were timid.

And yet, some things remain the same - no one wants to be the first to dance.

People milled about in the sitting area, laden with not enough food and not enough drink and absently looking at the ballroom floor as the rest of their compatriots filled into the room. A sea of masked faces, a veritable rainbow of dresses and suits and strange-sounding conversation, muted from behind plastic, paper, plaster and metal masks.
The vague tension in the air remained.

* * *

It was broken a moment later, however, as the diminutive Gryphon B and her companion climbed the steps to the upper floor to gaze out the massive windows. With her back to the crowd, it was quite impossible to notice them staring at her and her quite undiminuative partner, especially after the latter spread his wings - to the sound more than a few "Aaahs" - before he folded up and began looking around the room.

A few more oohs and aahs followed as Rover maneuvered his way through the room, the giant somehow not sending tables and people alike flying. His successful navigation of the third floor earned him a round of applause - and laughter - the graceful twists and turns reminiscent of careful dancing.

A man in white stepped up to the floor, offering a hand to a lady in red, and the ice was broken. The band started with a waltz. A cacophony of colors swirled on the floor, reds and golds and greens and yellows, beneath the snow and moon.

* * *

For wait staff, of course, this was the busy season.

Before he could contemplate going to go fetch his easel, paint and afro wig, he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. He turned around to see his favorite manager, the Badger, again.
"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Get to the kitchen! Make with the bringing of trays!" He was flipped around and pushed towards the far left door on the side of the ballroom. "Hurry, dammit!"

Through the door, the hallway he was pushed into, for being one of the main alleys into the kitchen, was strangely empty. One might suppose this was the cause of the badger's irateness. A little ways down the hall, and a flight of stairs later, and he found himself in the kitchen.
It did not entirely look like he remembered it being. For one, the severed head on the stove, currently boiling, hadn't been there the last time. He noticed that most of the teeth were missing, and the ones that weren't were crushed to pulp, like someone had taken a pair of pliers and pulled too hard. The stench of burning blood wafted through the room nauseatingly.

The pink frog - the one who had given him coffee - was hunched over something by the counter. There was blood on her hands, and she was humming softly to herself, like she was folding laundry or making coffee. She didn't appear to have noticed him yet.

* * *

Gareeku noticed Cerebus sitting quite nicely by himself on the second story. Their eyes met for a moment, just long enough for Gar to see him smirk.
"Can I get anything for the lady and the gentleman?"

Gar and Ryn turned to see a badger in a black suit - the bowtie and shiny shoes a sure sign he was staff - wringing his hands in front of them. He seemed nervous, if only marginally annoying.

* * *

Karazkt felt more vibrations through the floor, but they were simply nonsense, random fluctuations and tremors. As though there was something in the way - a sudden unmarked change in the density of the ground, a tectonic shift or an aquifer flooding out of a now-void cavern.
The strange ones were now staring at him. Perhaps he sound stand?

* * *

"Nice place, hmm?" Horatio murmured, speaking of the room. The view of the outside, let alone the sky, was gorgeous. "It's a lot better than Castle Icewing. The place may be made of ice, but once you've seen one snowdrift, you've seen them all." he grinned. He removed his arm from Andrace's, and instead grabbed her hand, making a not-quite-mocking bow.
"I'm on duty, but I'm supposed to mingle. Might I ask the lady to dance?"

* * *

LL paused briefly to watch Rover's antics - she grinned widely, fangs sparkling - and them proceeded to climb the stairs to the second level, where there were yet more tables and staff already waiting.
She paused in front of the large, covered painting, blinking briefly before continuing.

"My lady, a moment of your time..."

* * *

From what Aten could tell, people started approaching the great dragon without screening, and she already had a small crowd gathered around her - not as though she was mobbed, but a definite group of people standing a respectful distance away, waiting their turn. Perhaps he could simply approach her?

Tim continued to gaze out of the window, entranced by the view, mostly unaware of anything else.


Rover, for his part, edged between the tables, and padded silently around into a slightly shadowed corner where he could look out over the floor - an achievement in itself, given the well-lit nature of the room. Seating himself there, he gazed around, unmoving save for the eyes, looking for all the world like some of the architecture. Half in the shadow, half in the light, he filtered through the crowd, identifying the various dancers and dancees, players in the grand game.

When he spotted the ringtail in the fancy costume, shiny bits on the chest, and the ringtail's compatriot, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the tip of his tail started twitching back and forth, just a bit. For the moment, however, he was content to watch, keeping an eye on the two of them.

After all, there was someone else with them. It'd be rude to interrupt.

Not to mention easier.

As he and Rynkura made their way further into the ballroom, Gareeku looked around and observed the guests that were present. Looking at one of them in particular, one of the dragon nobility standing somewhat away from the others, something in him told him that he had met her before. The way she stood, her demeanour, reminded him of a feline he had met a few years ago. Admittedly it hadn't been the best of starts, having been essentially kidnapped for the ransom placed on his head, but after that sorry mess had sorted itself out (as in dealing with the one responsible for placing the bounty on his head in the first place), he had come to respect the feline, both as an ally, and then as a friend. But then Mel was a feline, and this lady was obviously a dragon, but even so, this was Furrae...

Choosing to look away, largely out of not wanting to be accused of staring, Gareeku turned to Rynkura.
"All this nobility present...I feel as if I am intruding..." the wolf muttered, his voice with a somewhat serious tone, though Rynkura knew him well enough by now to know that he was in fact joking.

It was then, however, that he eyes fell upon the people gathered on the second storey, one of them in particular; Cerebus. It was apparent that the jackal had noticed him as well, staring right back at the wolf before a smirk made itself present. Scowling somewhat, the wolf was then interrupted by a voice addressing him and Rynkura. Looking to see, Gareeku saw that the voice belonged to what looked like a member of staff; a badger, sharply dressed and looking to take any possible orders for drinks.

"Oh...yes...I'd like a glass of your finest white wine, if possible." Gareeku answered to the badger's question, being taken somewhat offguard at first but then quickly recovering, before turning to Rynkura with a smirk. "Well...I suppose if I am to be invited to an occasion for nobility, then I should drink like nobility too..."

The interior of the ballroom was amazing, to say the least...made quite more so by the presence of dragons and what surely had to be the party's biggest guest, Rover...surprisingly behaving himself rather well in the situation.  The other guests had seemed to think so of him, taking their moments to watch in awe before returning to the festivities.

Glancing back to Gareeku as he joked about feeling like an intruder, Rynkura chuckled.  "You?  I've probably forgotten about which spoon to eat with more than anyone, myself."  She smiled.  "But at least we all certainly look the part...hopefully that is enough for whomever is holding this affair..."

Her voice trailed off when she briefly followed the wolf's gaze upwards.  There standing above the guests on the second floor was Cerebus, having returned as mysteriously as he had left.  The healer had only to hope that the smirk he was wearing wasn't a foreshadow of anything to come.  The thoughts were only interrupted again at the arrival of a waiter, a badger carrying an air of nervous energy, much to her curiosity.

Nevertheless, she too quickly regained her composure in front of the staff member as Gareeku ordered his drink.  A small grin played out on the angel's face at his remark.  "A very good way to make the best of a situation, my young friend."  To the badger, she replied with a polite smile, "A glass of red wine for me, if you will please."

Jeremiah, it had been mentioned before, was an artist, and thus had one's attention span. He was in a kitchen, where by some strange arcane process raw materials were somehow transformed into food. Thus it would take him at least another paragraph before he would notice what was (aha) staring him right in the face. The smell, he assumed, was some other vile rich-person food, although it DID seem familiar...
"Oi, Sharon, stripes sent me down to pick up some canapes and wine. Where are- Oh christ, Sharon, did you cut your hand?" It was after he'd scampered over in concern, however, that he noticed the head with a stifled "Nngk!"
Allow the narrator to speak, for a moment, on faces.
Faces are very important to people. They're our primary method of telling one another apart, the part of ourselves we identify the concept of "self" with the most, and are often used as a basis for immediate judgements on one another when first meeting. The slant of one's smile, the light in one's eyes, the definition of one's cheekbones, we even have special centers of the brain dedicated to reading and identifying faces beyond "yep, that's a face." These instincts, kicking in when looking at a face in a state of mutilation, have a tendency to send important little mechanisms in the mind into error messages.
Lets see, a deer, knew a few deers back home. Nice folks, good traditions. Overall very open, honest features. Hygiene's kinda poor though, with all those strips hanging off OHGODDON'TLOOK right, strong jawline. He a local? Lots of local boys seem to have that. Probably can't be a day over sixteen, although he had the beginnings of a beard coming in and how mouth makes him look DON'TLOOKJESUSCHRIST moving on, the short hair... Probably a military brat, I'd bet. And his eyes OHGODDON'TLOOKDON'TLOOKDON'TLOOK-!
And elsewhere, only slightly deeper than his conscious mind, someone said And I'd like the records to show that I fucking CALLED IT.
Jeremiah started backing away from Sharon, releasing the shoulder he'd clutched in concern...

Mel trailed slowly through the wake of people displaced by her grandmother. The crowd swirled and eddied behind the matriarch causing rather strange groupings. Two kings on opposite sides of a spat ended up face to face, causing a bit of a bluster; a barbarian usurper bumped into a little nun of a passivist sect, eliciting a sermon. The theater diva and the paparazzi was good for a chuckle though. Then Mel almost tripped over an insectus laying on the floor. "Grandmother likes a good grovel as much as anyone, but she has passed by now. You should get up before you are trod upon." Having imparted this advice the younger dragon glided to the refreshment table. She picked up a glass of champagne but avoided the canapes. They smelled off. Grandmother would probably have words with someone over that later.

Andrace broke off from her tactical analysis of the possibilities of tossing someone off the top-floor balcony (and the merits of stabbing them through the gizzard first), and perked her ears and whiskers as she turned back to Horatio. "Y' might indeed," she said with a smile, "an' if y' did, th' lady might say yes." She walked forward to the edge of the dance floor as it began to fill, snuggled herself against the fox, draped her free arm over his shoulder and set out onto the floor.

Horatio quickly discovered that the lioness was a good dancer, her natural feline agility helping her out here. Her bare paws made almost no sound as she moved, only the occasional tick of her claws on the smooth marble sounding over the quiet rustling of her dress. Her eyes were constantly in motion, though, as she stepped and turned through the stately measures of the waltz. The 'Cubi Ti'Paollo was over there, the Icewing matriarch was upstairs there, surrounded by petitioners, and the monster Gryphon... somehow she'd lost track of the Gryphon. Ah well, he'd turn up. For the moment, she settled into enjoying the dance, purring quietly, her tail swishing in time to the music.

   Karazkt heard a surfacer speak directly to him, and replied before she walked away. "I waz KommuniKaTing with another InzeKTiz...I thinK..." something had happened, the "Insectis" he was talking to seemed to have vanished, as if something geological had been interposed between them. However, it hardly mattered int he slightest to him. Not only did the message/suggestion/command not make any sense at all, but the Hive and rank weren't even identified. That and Karazkt picked up no pheremones of agression from any of the surfacers around him (although he didn't realize that surfacers, in fact, didn't put off any pheremones that he could detetct most of the time). Considering the circumstances, the whole thing pretty much went in one antenna and out the other for him.
   Karazkt stood up (only barely noticing that some surfacers were staring at him, he merely stared back with his super-bug-eye-goggled face), and his thoughts then returned to his mission from his Queen. Attend the Scarlet Masque, and find out the who, how, and why of the message that invited karazkt in the first place. Karazkt was about to take a step forward when he realized; he didn't have much of an idea of how to do that. Thinking for a moment, however did help. Whoever organized the Masque would know. The only ones who ever organize such events within a Hive were always either the Queens or one of their direct Royal children. So, find the Queen of this Hive, and request audience.
   Now, how to do that?

Aten approached the supplicants to the Lady Icewing as he neared the crowd he saw Mel warning a groveling supplicant not to be stepped on as her house leader had already moved on. Moving on herself he saw her pick up a glass of champagne and thought to himself that it would be shameful not to at least greet and old acquaintance before proceeding to business. Approaching with n a few feet he spoke knowing that here grandmother would be easy enough to find when he was done greeting her grand daughter. "Good evening miss Melodie. it is good to see you again."

Somehow, the lynx wasn't able to rid herself of that masked figure's presence. She hadn't drunk much, that she was aware of. But things still seemed fuzzy for a moment when she turned, and she couldn't quite recollect how she found herself with his hand on her back next, almost around her waist, as he walked her up toward the center of the ballroom.
   'No, you are looking for somebody's perspective,' the man said in a whispering tone. It seemed strangely clear to Esme, amid all the bustling and talking, in spite of the mask. 'But they don't have it either. Soon, no one will.' The man's voice deepened as he spoke, taking on a hint of loathing somewhere deep down. He seemed to be surveying the dance floor, though there was still not even a hint of a gaze within the empty eyes of that mask. That upsetting, stomach-turning feeling was growing stronger, yet it seemed to be that feeling itself which compelled her to move along, even though she wanted nothing more at the moment than to hurry away to the other side of the room.
   'There is no reason. It's all a masquerade, after all. Charicatures and furies, but the more you refuse to play...' The irresistable presence that had been pushing her on suddenly stopped, and that mask turned toward her again. Those emptinesses seemed to draw her in.
   'Do as you want with the ring. But it's better to decide quickly, and not to expect, or to do the expected yourself. Tell her that, when...'
   He stopped, and looked over Esme's shoulder, daring her to turn her gaze in the same direction. Someone had called out the lynx's name.

   'There you are!' Elyse said, speaking in a more hushed tone this time, hurrying up behind Esme with rather less composure than what would have been deemed appropriate for the surroundings, but calming herself quickly once she was sure the woman had noticed her. She had half expected not to find her at all. Or that there would be something wrong with...
   The bat stopped herself before she spoke, staring at the lynx for a moment. Something nagged at the back of her mind. Things seemed so silent all of a sudden, and she had a distinct impression that someone was... sneering at her, though she couldn't tell why. She looked around, but found no one paying attention to her or Esme in particular.
   'Is everything okay?' she asked, frowning slightly as she returned her gaze to the lynx.

In the shadow beside Rover, a figure like a metal rod wrapped in black sipped wine, the movements of its masked face synchroneous with those of the gryphon beside it, though none could see its eyes. How it managed to pour wine into its mouth through the mask was anybody's guess. After a while, it reached out and patted the huge creature's side, stroking it fearlessly.
   'Just a little while longer, big guy,' it muttered, a hint of amusement in its voice. 'A little on edge because you have no one to dance with, hm?'

Elizabeth was beside herself with frustration. Without anything but a vague description of the location of this elusive item and some other, ambiguous hints, finding what she was looking for was going to be impossible. In a paroxysm of irritation, she deftly snatched a garlic roll from its decorative basket from off a nearby table and bit into it, chewing furiously, even though she wasn't supposed to eat and she didn't even like garlic rolls. Still munching on her impromptu snack, Elizabeth stormed off to the side, leaning against the wall. This seemed like a good opportunity to contemplate her next course of action, if she could.

The fur where the dark figure had touched ruffled up. One huge eyeball rolled around and focused on the dark figure. And a deep, heavy, rumbling growl started up, somewhere buried in the huge chest. Not threatening. Not yet.

But it hinted, strongly, that threats would be forthcoming if more liberties were taken.

In a manner so nonchalant of the impending threat of several tons of beaked and clawed and feathered mauling coming down on him as to be puzzling, perhaps even irritating, the figure merely looked forward. He hummed under his breath, and then gave a couple of hard pats to the gryphon's side, before folding his arms over his chest, keeping on watching the room.
   'Oh, don't be that way,' the mask uttered, a distinct tone of bemusement in its voice. 'You still need your little friend, don't you?' It turned slightly to face Rover, and somewhere down within the darkness of darkness behind that mask, the gryphon's vision caught sight of a tiny, gleaming point of horrid red, a vague and distant mote of something instinctively frightening, but one so full of possibilities and the promise of horror that it only made it worse. He was too close to Tim for any sort of comfort...
   It is widely taken for a fact that all cats and dogs and such creatures with heightened senses relative to those of 'sapient' species can sense ill intent or danger, simply as a natural thing. And quite often, this is actually the case. However, while the senses certainly do their part, the fact is that the real reason that often comes into play is that creatures like those tend to have far less preoccupied minds and fewer preconceptions about things than your general upright-walking social brain on legs, while still knowing what they are about. Often the tendency toward having more simplistic priorities helps as well. And if anything could be said about Rover's mind, it would certainly not be that it was preoccupied. So while the man, or whatever the figure was, did had a movement pattern that unnerved, and a faint smell like cigarettes dipped in acid and paint varnish, it was mostly the primal sense of sheer evil that represented the metaphorical nails on a chalkboard to the gryphon. It was as strong a deterrent as bright colors and an unnatural fearlessness might have been to a jungle predator.
   Suddenly, the figure moved, putting its hands down and tensing. It seemed to have spotted something of interest. Something out on the dance floor, or toward the other side of the room.
   'It's not me you should bother with, you big pile of feathers. Now, excuse me...' The masked man adjusted his collar, and smoothly moved away, moving across the impeccable marble floor in a mode of movement far more serpentine than a regular walk.

The man didn't so much as touch her. He just... drew her attention inexorably toward him with his sheer presence. One second there was nothing, and the next he was there, standing over her to her side, his black-eyed stare impossible to ignore. His lacquered mask, long blond hair falling down behind it, was eerily expressionate and somewhat ghastly. Back against the wall, Elizabeth seemed between a rock and a hard place.
   'Care to dance, miss?' the apparition said. 'That way, I can lead you.'
   The room seemed distant and silent for a second. There was something about that last comment...

 The ballroom swirled with colors, as people of all shapes and sizes, creatures and beings wearing all shades of colors danced, spoke, and even occasionally enjoyed themselves. The orchestra now played loudly, and was even playing some tunes it was possible to dance to.
Servants with trays mingled through the crowd. They were filled with mostly drinks, although there were a few small foods -  this was a dance, not a dinner. They served drinks both in the crowd, and took empty glasses to a table at the side of the room, where rows upon rows of them were filled with a sparkling, red punch. The punch was very good, and that is what they mostly served, but if one desired a particular drink, one merely had to ask.

* * *

Even in the swirls of color, the predominant shade of the ball was red. It made sense, after all - It was the Scarlet Masque. One man, dressed from head to toe red, stood on the third floor, drinking the red punch. How he managed to to do so through his mask was an interesting question. He appeared to be looking down at the rest of the ball.
"Silly people, you should know, you shall read just what you shall sow..." he said. He took a drink, spilling a drop of his drink the process. A red drop fell to the floor, contrasting sharply with the white marble. He rubbed it out with his foot.
"Bloody Gods are coming back, monsters from the endless black. Wading through a crimson flood, God has come to drink your blood..."

"You first, of course."

* * *

Sharon turned around slowly, eyeing Jeremiah before she turned to face him. Her face twitched just moments before she looked at him.

"Jeremiah!" she said, grinning. "Thank god you're here. You'll never believe what's going on." she laughed nervously, brushing wet bangs back from her eyes with one hand, smearing blood and sweat. "I...look, I've got things under control here. The canapes in the fridge behind you. You'd better get'em before the black-and-white ass comes down here." she smiled, her face the image of helpfulness.
Jeremiah heard something clatter to the floor. The pliers - even as she was looking at him, almost by itself, her arm was fumbling around on the counter behind her. He could see a cleaver not too far from her glittering wetly.

* * *

The servant returned and approached Gareeku and Rynkura a moment later, two glasses in hand.
"A glass of the red for the lady," he said, handing the tigress a long, fluted glass filled with red, "And a glass of the white wine for the monsieur. Please, enjoy." he bowed, and disappeared to attend to his other responsibilities.

* * * 

Kiet felt a tap on his shoulder. It was, oddly, the yellow-waistcoated fox.
"You are Kiet Ti'Pallo, I presume?" he said, making a bow. "Your mother was always a welcome sight at the Masque, sir, and I can tell you we're all pleased to meet her son. The Ti'Pallo clan has always been...reasonable, in my opinion. I understand the clan has an... interest in politics?"
  He lowered his voice. "The benefactor of the ball wishes to have a word with you, sir, about certain...issues. Might it be possible to have a word in private?"

He looked up at the ringtail, measuring.

* * *

  Horatio danced with Andrace, the snow fox dancing with a strangely sinuous motion. He was surprisingly good at it, for a mammal.
"Enjoying yourself yet?" he said. He sounded distracted, as though he was watching something else. "These soirees are always so fun. Not enough food, nothing good to drink, nowhere to sit..." he grinned. "I suppose the view isn't bad, though.

  ** *

Something bumped into Karazkt. "Excuse me..."

The insectis turned. A rather portly dog being, with a rather less portly lady, moved around the heretofore stock-still insectis. He seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with him, although that wasn't so hard, as long as he avoided looking at Karazkt's entire head. The insectis noticed the man's dress.
Yes! He remembered something his queen had said! The man walked with a scepter! Surely this man was someone of great authority! He would know where to find the Queen in charge here.

Always the cute ones. If this means the bat was right I'll never forgive her for it...
We have the knife, right? They did. Jeremiah could feel the weight of it hidden in his shirt, at the small of his back. He'd grabbed it this morning in case Elyse turned out to be as crazy as he'd thought she was the previous night. The frog stepped back toward the fridge, keeping his eyes on Sharon and fumbling behind his back, trying to see if he could get at the knife without her noticing while the other hand opened the fridge. She's stronger than me. I know this for certain, seen the girl carting huge pots of soup and whatever one handed.
We're so dead.
"So, what wont I believe?" Jeremiah asked, trying to keep his voice friendly as his fingers finally closed on the knife in its sheath, "Stripeyboy bring a date to the ball?"

Andrace's ears perked forward, then drooped to half-mast as her eyes widened and her tail-tuft fluffed out melodramatically. "Not 'nough food?" she said in tones of mock horror. "There's only one way out o' that sit'ation — grab some b'fore it's all gone!" The lioness twitched the side of her muzzle into a faint hint of a smile. Although Horatio was leading, she managed to direct them towards the nearest food table as the band wound down to the end of the next dance.

Andrace's gaze took in the variety of of dishes and bowls spread out in front of her. She speared a tasty-looking canape with an extended claw and paused for a moment just before popping it into her mouth. Her tail flicked out and lightly tapped Horatio's leg. "Oh, an' I heard what else y' said," she purred with a mischievous little grin. "So, I'm scenery now? I wonder if y' boss knows 'bout th' squeaky little noises y' make when I... say... what th' frig is this stuff?" Her nose had been twitching as the lioness held the canape just in front of it. Her ears and whiskers went back, and her tail lashed once. Something about the smell of the little morsel was making the fur at the back of her neck bristle.

"Good evening, Mr. Atem," responded Mel. "Are you enjoying the spectacle and pageantry of the Scarlett Masque so far?"

" it is much more ... unusual then i expected dear Mel" Atem/ Aten said looking in the direction of the guard who had attracted his attention earlier. " I see that your grandmother has already gathered a throng of  supplicants" as he said the last part his ears drooped  a little as if disappointed in the development

"Thank you, I feel welcome.  Oh, and it is TiPaollo.  We dropped the apostrophe from the olde tongue a few millenia ago.  We achieved most of what we needed from creating the fallacy that our founder was dead, but that's a rather long and boring story."  He raised an eyebrow to the question of the clan's interest in politics, "well, we have been very political and resourceful during the clans wars, profiting off of the misfortune of other clans.  We also build community, first among our own... taking in those that had lost their founders, then among all by building a nation for beings and creatures alike living as equals and partners in society."

The ringtail sighed, "I'm sure you are not interested in our rhetoric though.  If the benefactor of this ball wishes to speak then please, lead the way."

Camiole, well versed in the art of remaining unnoticed, remained at Kiet's side.  I thought you said you were only coming for the party and the fun?  She thought to Kiet.

I know, but it was bound to happen.  I'm sure this will be something very bad, because of this little mirror.  If I'm forced to use the scorched earth option, I want you and the team to teleport out of here.  There is at least one ancient dragon at this ball, I do not know what its involvement in all this is, but dragons are bad.  I don't want the four of you getting killed because of dodgy old hags holding pointless racial grudges.  I don't think its like that, but who knows really.  I passed the word to the Duke, he and all of our allies are casually withdrawing all non-essential personnel.  Those that have to remain for political reasons have escape stones.

Camiole remained straight faced, taking a sip of her white wine, what will you do?

If I have to, I'll rely on Opa to get me out.  I don't want that to happen, it will break the delicate balance of things. 

Speaking out loud, but keeping a low voice,  Kiet addressed the fox, "this is shaping up to be an interesting evening, I never expected to be meeting the benefactor."   

(OOC: Not my best post, but I hope it works for you Stygian.)

Esme gritted her teeth behind closed lips in a manner that was usually foreign to the young Angel, wishing that she had the sense of mind and willpower to verbally lash out at the strange man whom she found suddenly holding her. She had not had much to drink - as a matter of fact, she hadn't consumed the least bit of alcohol at the event so far, and instead had merely stared into an empty wine glass that she had appeared to conjure from thin air. The frustration settled deeply within her as various people, all now blending into one grey indistinguishable mass, blurred by her vision as she found herself directed towards the center of the room against her will. The doctor knew she was being mentally manipulated, perhaps through magic; there was no doubt of that, as there could have been no other explanation for the sudden muddled senses and inability to act. The only thing that kept the lynx in check for the time being was the knowledge that the man grasping her waist was correct in inferring that wisdom and opinion were what she sought. Her stomach was now perhaps quite literally doing flip flops, and Esme feared opening her mouth to speak might make her suffer rather dramatic and messy consequences. "Then I'll play," she managed, almost choking upon the effort she exerted to speak.

The sickness subsided almost as quickly as it had come on, and Esme completely missed the words hitting the back of her head as she stood dumbly amid the dancing couples, the skin beneath her fur a pale white. I think I'm going to throw up. The Angel grasped for anything nearby she could steady herself with, fingers squeezing the cloth of Elyse's dress as she wobbled dangerously. "No, everything is most certainly not okay." The woman's voice was barely a whisper as she forced the ring back into her palm, pressing it against the bat's stomach as best she could. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to tell me what this means, and what it symbolizes. Can you do that for me?" I hope for my sake and everyone else's that you can, Esme thought quietly as her eyes darted about the ballroom, searching for unwanted attention.

   As Karazkt turned to face the person who had bumped him. Karazkt would have given him a quick brush with his antennae, as is practically second-nature to Insectis when meeting others, but Royals were a special case in that they always had to initiate contact like that first.
   Karazkt made a light buzzing sound, that was roughly the equivalent to someone making an 'Ahhh...' sound. "You...are a Royal, are you noT? IT iz zo hard To Tell with you zurfazerz..." Karazkt said, slowly stumbling through the unfamiliar surfacer language, with his accent. "I wish To zpeaK with the Kween of thiz Hive, or whoever organized thiz evenT..."

 Sharon's eye twitched while Jeremiah carefully kept himself from turning his back on the pink frog. Her hand was quite obviously fumbling for the knife on the counter behind her, and the seemingly genuine grin on her face was getting stale.

Her hand finally found the knife behind her, grasping the handle tight. Jeremiah heard...something, a scream perhaps, the sound that a banshee makes when it seeks to kill its victim out of pure fright, impossible not be be jarred by. She threw the knife hard, and he could hear the tight whistle as it barely missed his eye and grazed his head, slamming nicely into the wooden cupboards behind him.
All pretense was abandoned now, the look in her eye horrifyingly savage and her grin manic. She grabbed the pot full of boiling blood, the head sloshing out, throwing the scalding liquid in his general direction, and lunged for him, arm muscles bulging with implied strength.

  * * *

Horatio raised an eyebrow, and took the little morsel from Andrace, sniffing it. He frowned, but shook his head. "The chicken went bad, I guess. There are food shortages around here, after all. I'm surprised the party even happened this year, really." he said, setting the canape back down. Trash cans were in short supply, so he just flipped the pastry upside-down. "And, no, my boss doesn't know about that," he blushed beneath his fur, turning to grab a glass of wine, "And if I have any luck never wi-

He looked around the room, and made a subtle jerk. He paused.
"Your target is leaving." he said to the lioness.

Through the sea of dresses and bright clothing, the figure of Kiet Ti'Pallo and his General's Uniform could be seen walking with the Master of Ceremonies across the room to the side entrance into the west hall. Horatio turned a moment later and grabbed a glass, sipping from it.
"You're invisible to Cubi, remember." he looked at her from behind his glasses, to the side. "Leave by the front entrance, take the rightmost hallway, and keep going until you reach the end. Take the next right, keep walking, and your second right will be that hallway they're entering." he took a breath. "You should be able to smell where they go from there. If you keep silent and hidden, they should never know you're coming." he took another drink, scanning the room quickly again. "If something happens...try and make it back here. He wouldn't be stupid enough to attack with all the guards around here."

He set the glass down. He'd somehow drained it in the few moments he'd had it. People were starting to press up against the pair, the both of them blocking the food and drink, and Horatio politely extricated himself before kissing Andrace full on the lips, and whispering in her ear.
"Good luck."

* * *

"I am glad to hear it, sir." the fox said to Kiet, "And my master will be most pleased. If you could follow me?" he smiled, turning and pausing for just a moment to see if the Cubi was indeed following, and then walking towards the opposite end of the ballroom from Luna. When he got to the door, he opened it politely for the Cubi. Dark carpeting and faux-gas lamps lit the hall, doors and stairways lining either side.
"We do appreciate this, sir. The Benefactor this evening has actually taken ill, and requested that you be brought down to him in his room, which is located in the lower levels. Odd for a master, I know, but I'm sure you can understand the eccentric habits of others." he grinned as they walked through the dark halls, taking a right into another hall, and then down the stairs and into halls carved from natural stone.

"There are actually some impressive crystal formations located underneath the kitchens area. I understand they're a type of Garnet not generally indigenous to this region, mostly schistose rocks being present but gnissic here. Possibly a dormant volcano to blame - but in any case, very pretty, the brightest blood red you've ever seen..." he trailed off, turning a corner.

* * *

The hound blinked, silent for a moment, as he gathered his own wits. "I...most certainly am not. I'm the democratically elected president of Osrao." he wobbled for a moment. "But the Queen of the...hive? Ah...the organized. I'd say her." he said, and pointed to the dragon woman in red at the top of the stairs, with the face of fire. "Closest thing there is. Thank you, thank you, good day..." he bowed, doffing his hat, and did his best to get away from the insect as fast as possible.

As bits of his mind curled in on themselves in testes-shriveling terror, all Jeremiah could coherently think about was the fact that he'd only come down here to get canapes. Maybe champagne. The whine of the knife streaking past him into the cupboards already had him moving, sliding past the bucket of blood moving through the air as his own blade was whisked out of his sheath. For a frozen moment he considered the splash of hot crimson in the air. He was an artist, it was pretty. The organic shapes of the red, the way the light highlighted these little spots along this one splash that reminded him of some manner of tiara... Beautiful. Briefly, he wondered if he was really all there. This all took maybe half a second, a second tops.
His dodge of the horned toad's lunge was a touch less graceful, staggeringly giving ground and flailing with the knife to keep Sharon at her distance.

The small, mischievous smirk on Andrace's muzzle vanished the moment Horatio said the word "target", leaving her face totally expressionless. "How d' y' know?" she murmured quietly, her lips barely moving. "Agh, stupid, y're on Herself's security team, o' course y'd be told." Turning her head as little as possible, the lioness glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Ti'Paollo — without his bodyguard — led out of the ballroom by a fox wearing a luridly yellow waistcoat. As she watched, her right ear turned back towards Horatio to catch every word of his directions, which filled in a few more gaps in her mental map of the castle. Her expression didn't change, but her whiskers fanned out as she realised which hall Horatio meant. She'd probably be too late to catch him there, but in the next hall along...

"Thanks f'r th' assist, H'ratio. Don't go 'way, I'll be right back!" She returned the fox's kiss and hugged him as tightly as her bulky skirt allowed, then she turned and walked off. She didn't even seem to be walking quickly, but her speed was deceptive: in moments she'd reached the door and slipped through.

In the deserted corridors, Andrace could safely hurry without worrying about attracting attention. She didn't quite follow the route Horatio told her: when she came to a part of the castle she'd explored earlier in the afternoon, she turned left instead of right. A few more turnings, and she came to a side entrance to a long hall, just as Ti'Paollo and his guide appeared at the far end. Perfect. Still hiding behind the barely opened side door, she looked across the hall to an item she'd found and prepared earlier: a winding handle on the wall attached to a pulley for lowering the large, decorative, and heavy chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The 'Cubi was almost in position, and almost as important, the other fox was just about far enough away for safety. Probably. Almost... now!

The lioness had very little magical talent, but she'd learned to make a little go a long way. The pitifully weak heat spell she tossed across the hall wouldn't have blistered the paint on the handle, and it probably couldn't be detected more than a few feet away. But the chemical-impregnated cord she'd wrapped around the end of the rope earlier was a different matter. It immediately began to burn fiercely: only for a few seconds, but long enough to cut cleanly through the rope without risking setting the whole castle on fire. Andrace tensed her body, ready to hitch up her skirt and run if she had to. Normally she would have already left, it would have been courting suicide to hang around after launching an attack on a powerful Creature, but with her thoughts shielded by her enchanted bracelet it should be safe to watch and see what happened. She just had to keep quiet and out of sight, and try not to exhale minty fresh breath into the hall.

There was an odd shift in the light as the chandelier, abruptly no longer supported, silently began its fall towards Ti'Paollo's head.

"Unusual?" repeated the young dragon, in response to Atem's comment. "Well, it does seem a little amateurish for an event of such lineage. Is that what you mean?" She glanced over at the crowd surrounding her grandmother. "That group will clear out quickly enough. It is just business. Get in, negotiate their business, get out. Later, when her cronies start showing up and they start talking about old times, that will be the immovable object."

"then i should approach her with my questions now? " Atem looked at the crowed and nodded. yes it did make sense. she would more likely to allow one of many supplicants to interrupt each other with request then rather interrupt her time reminiscing with old friend. "very well thank you for the advice but also is there anything that your grandmother might have interest in that a merchant like myself could acquire for her? "  he asked hoping  for a positive answer.

Kiet had followed the rather important looking fox and carefully considered his words.  As they passed through the threshold between the ballroom and the halls, Camiole separated and moved to the shadows.  Still practicing her psionic stealth, quietly she followed hanging a ways back, not too far though, taking the best possible route and stalking the ringtail as if he were prey.

"Lower halls you say?  My, if I didn't know better I would think you are leading me into a trap."  Kiet observed the fox's thoughts and reactions to his blunt statement.

The feline's surprise at the older incubus's candor, almost made her miss the large lioness whom had appeared seemingly out of nowhere across from her.  She was dressed for the ball and Cam could have sworn she had seen her before.  Her gesture was subtle, but not overtly concealed, which showed she did not expect to be seen.  Camiole found no presence of mind, but following her gaze during the gesture it was obvious.

Chandelier... rope burned... falling!  Camiole screamed at Kiet's mind as she projected the scene from her visual prospective.

A well rehearsed soldier always has a plan and one who has thousands of years experience reacts by rote.  Kiet threw his perceptions out into a circle encompassing the room both mentally and visually.  Magically would take to long and he would have to do it after his next contingency.  He caught a brief glimpse of the lioness, but no mind to speak of.  For the moment he had to let that image pass, he could perform a recall of it later, but for now he had a more pressing concern.

He stole a quick gaze up at the tumbling fixture and concentrated his effect.  For anyone observing, Kiet and the chandelier both blinked out and then reappeared, but slightly differently placed then before the blink.

The fine fixture now sat in its original place, the rope whole once again (minus the combustible chemical cord) and Kiet where he started.  As if nothing had happened, the ringtail continued on after the yellow-waistcoated fox.

Don't linger too long Camiole, and let her go... I think this may be quite amusing.  Before you talk to her, show me your observations since we've been in the castle.  Recalling the face in his mind, he received the images, held them and played back the scenes as he walked.  The lioness had indeed been to the party and was accompanied by a fox, a seemingly affectionate relationship it would seem.


Disappearing from her alcove, the clouded leopardess boiled from the shadows near Andrace, "my dear lady, the ball is back this way."

Except for the calamities that were happening backstage, things seemed to be going as normal in the ballroom.  It hadn't been long after their orders before the servant had returned with the respective wine glasses for Gareeku and Rynkura.  The tigress was patient, indeed...in fact she was also starting to feel a little more comfortable in the ballroom, simply enjoying the scenery and taking in all of the senses of the affair.

It's quite funny, she thought, that unless people danced, ate, or socialized, parties are otherwise often boring.  The Healer had a small smirk on her face, hinting at her thoughts.  There is very little difference between the aristocrat and the pauper in that regard.  Except the latter knows how to not act stuffy and condescending...

Rynkura took a sip of her wine and gave her lips a smack at the taste.  It was as flavorful as she liked, still with more of the recognizable alcohol tinge than what she had at the hotel's restaurant.  And while she stood with the wolf, she carefully observed the goings-on around the dragons.

For a moment she even recognized Atem near the feet of the bustling crowd waiting to address the monarch.  "Hrmh, I know few dragons that seem to rival that one's self importance, and they're all from clan Stormclaw..." she chuckled, then glanced toward Gareeku.  "I believe I shall visit the food table for a moment."  She put her hand on his shoulder and briefly inclined her head towards where Cerebus was standing.  "Try not to let his presence get to you, my young friend."

The angel then gathered herself and pressed her wings against her body so as not to let them bump into anyone as she walked towards the table.  She casually scanned the vicinity, picking up one of the small canapes and smelling it.  Her nose instantly wrinkled.  Sure, it seemed fine, but the angel's better senses picked up something a little...off about it.  Shrugging with a hum, she frosted it a little with some very light ice magic from her fingers and nibbled at it, moving down the line.

 The fox laughed hard at Kiet's statement, putting his muzzle into his mouth for a moment to conceal his mirth and then grinning at him from over his shoulder. "I will not pretend that I've never gotten my hands dirty, but killing is surely a...last resort. Killing makes people squeamish. It makes people ask questions...and its always very... messy." His feet echoed through the hall. "I'm not here to kill you, sir." Kiet could read his thoughts, and found that it was, indeed, true. "Believe me...if I was killing people now..." he didn't turn, but the fox's smile could be felt as he walked forward. "Well, there'd be very few of you left."

When the fox paused beneath the chandelier for some reason, the fox raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and continued on, turning the corner, slowing his pace only a bit for Kiet to catch up. "You know, monsieur, Incubi and Succubi have always fascinated me. Feeding on emotions, the indirect perception of others, the shapeshifting...natural born masters of deception. But it has always seemed to me, you'd have to guard against being too...comfortable, with yourself. I've done some reading, you see." he stopped, and turned to face Kiet. His smile was crooked, gleaming, and smug bordering on the ecstatic.
"The most common cause of Death for powerful Cubi seems to have been overconfidence."

The fox jumped backwards, getting distance from Kiet, and then as calm as he pleased walked straight into solid stone. It did not deter him any more than air, however, the rock melting around him and sealing up behind - and Kiet realized that he couldn't sense the man anymore.
He realized, in fact, that he couldn't sense anyone anymore, even the people in the ball above - although, shouldn't he be able to sense Camiole...?

* * *

Camiole was professional, and as such, was not gloating in particular when she felt the daggers punch through her gut, and the other through her lung. Blood welled into her throat, and her mind raced - it was absurd, impossible, to sneak up on emotionally-aware, mind-reading Cubi. How had she not sensed it? How had she not smelled it, heard it?
Why hadn't Kiet warned her?
She thought no further. Despite her prodigious speed, centuries of experience and power, the nameless something with simple knives was faster. Daggers whipping around her head, blinding her as they stabbed into her brainpan. She thought no more.

* * *

It was no more than five feet tall, not huge by any standard, not imposing in the least. It stood naked - it's flesh was gray, hairless, but it's eyes glowed a red like blood or garnets, and it's teeth - broken, missing and some bleeding - were twisted in a cracked smile. It held two knives in it's hands - and as Andrace had just seen, it was feindishly fast.

Use me

Andrace heard something before the thing lunged at her, knives whistling harshly through the air.

* * *

Jeremiah's flailing attempts to keep the crazed frog at bay were moderately successful, as were his attempts to dodge the bucket of boiling blood. A few stinging drops landed on his arms, but nothing that would leave anything permament. Sharon flew through the air with not-unexpected speed - she was a frog after all. It was impossible to alter one's trajectory midair, of course, but the pink frog managed to angle herself away from the unexpectedly sharp implement just enough to miss crashing into Jeremiah, and instead crash into the refrigerator. She bounced off comically - painfully - and the concussion knocked the fridge and several cabinets open, raining plates and canapes down onto the floor and Sharon alike. She began to scramble to her feet, hate-filled eyes locked on Jeremiah.

She pulled the knife out the cabient beside her, licking her teeth. Again she threw it, the knife whistling through the air. It exploded a second later, an ear-splitting sound so loud booming through the room that Jeremiah dropped was he was holding, and Sharon screamed something unintelligible as she cupped her ears.
Jeremiah looked - a black cat, one yellow eye staring at Sharon strangely, and the other eye grotesquely ruined, was aiming a rather intimidating looking revolver at her. He fired, another earsplitting boom - and Sharon's chest exploded in a shower of gore, the frog falling straight down.

The yellow eye turned to Jeremiah. He stared at the frog for a second, as if he was unsure. "You're...no, you're not his. You are not broken, just full."
That seemed to be the end of it. He crossed the room, putting the revolver back in a ratty looking coat, and opened the door leading upstairs.

A moment later Sharon, in an impressive display of physical prowess, managed to spring from her back all the way across the room without any discernible in-between. They both screamed as she tackled him to the ground, and Jeremiah could see a knife gleaming wetly in Sharon's hand.
The feline might have been timely, before, but it appeared the frog had the upper hand. He was pinned, unable to reach to get his revolver, and unable to match the larger, stronger kitchen aide in terms of physical power. A knife hovered just a split-centimeter from his one good eye.

Andrace stared into the hall, frozen for a moment in surprise as Ti'Paollo did something magical — it happened too quickly for her to see exactly what — that completely reversed her attack. Her eyes widened as she saw the chandelier reappear up in the ceiling, with no sign it might be about to continue plummeting towards the ringtailed 'Cubi. She swore sulphurously under her breath, then again when the clouded leopard she'd thought was out of her way back in the ballroom suddenly appeared. She started to back away from the half-open door, her hand reaching for one of the weapons — any one — hidden in her purse. Her ears were laid back, and her tail was as stiff and fluffed-out as a bottle brush. Too late: Ti'Paollo's bodyguard lunged out of the shadows beside her, then...

It all happened in seconds. From the first spray of blood across the leopard's dress to her collapse, gory froth bubbling from her muzzle, Andrace barely had time to scuttle backwards and put her hand into her purse. The grey thing that had reduced a deadly opponent to a bloody heap of slashed and stabbed fur paused long enough to let the lioness see it clearly, staring at her with balefully glowing red eyes. It should be covered in blood! was the first thing — not quite relevant though it was — to skitter through her mind as she took another cautious step backwards. Th' last time I chopped some'n up like that, I was washin' m' fur f'r hours! Andrace bared her fangs with a defiant snarl and pushed her hand further into her purse: the monster was blindingly fast, but was it faster than a bullet...?

Use me.

The voice made her hand shift to one side deep inside her purse. The item she gripped and pulled out was not her gun. Her vision twisted, colour leaching away from the already dim corridor. Andrace raised her hand and stared in horror at the Death-sword she held. On the floor she could see bright colourful lines slashing across the leopard's body, already slowly fading. Then the grey monster leaped forward to attack, its knives at the ready, and there was no time for anything except to raise her sword, the weapon she'd thought too dreadful to use. Her own eyes glowing with the colours of a curdled rainbow, the lioness screamed like a berserker (albeit one in a very pretty dress) and lunged to meet the attack.

The booming report of the revolver momentarily turned Jeremiah's legs to jelly. He didn't like guns. It wasn't anything idealogical, no objection to the idea of a powerful weapon. They were noisy and dangerous and they scared him. He fell against the counter shaking as Sharon went down. That didn't just happen. Or this didn't just happen. The utter sweetheart of a girl who I've been getting free coffee out of and flattering shamelessly didn't just pull a knife on me before getting gunned down by this guy...
And then she was up again, moving PAST him to get to his rescuer in a truly impressive leap.
Let us talk, for a moment, about reflexes.
A being's reflexes are a remarkable thing in that, while it's most known for some simple, flinching actions it's quite capable of sending one into a complex series of motions based on what simply seems like the best idea available to the subconscious at the time while the conscious mind is still shifting gears. A man had just saved his life. Now that man was in danger, and his attacker was vulnerable. And Jeremiah had a knife. The procedure, it had to be said, was obvious.
The frog had taken three smart steps forward and raised the knife before these thoughts had even finished arranging themselves. By then Sharon had noticed his approach, so it was rather too late to back out. The dagger plunged down into the girl's back, between the shoulder blades.
AhaehehehahahohAHEHAEHEAHAHAHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh shut up.