A Zahirian Masquerade


 * Grand Entrance Hall - 


 * Vaulted ceilings of gray granite, flecked with silver and black, arc above this spacious grand hall, which greets visitors upon arriving in Eventide Castle.


 * A pair of polished biinwood doors open onto the courtyard, flanked by tall vases of slender greening lilies. A small table set off to the left of the entryway is decorated with a white lace runner and two white candles in silver holders.


 * ''Large biinwood doors lead off into the dining hall and the ballroom, and a curtain of black and purple pinstriped velvet leads into the parlor. A all winding staircase twists its way upstairs to the residence level and downstairs into the dungeons.

Things are all hustle and bustle about the Keep at this point. Servants are running to and fro putting up last-minute decorations, and through the open doors into the dining hall one can see the kitchen in a flurry. Scents of roasting meat and vegetables drift through the keep.

In the midst of it all is Voreyn Zahir, already costumed and standing serene among the chaos. She directs traffic where it needs to go, and at her side stands a handmaiden to assist her in greeting the guests once they have begun to arrive.

A figure all in reds and blacks- and white, where skin shows- glides in, holding velvet skirts above the ground. Liltrum over her shoulder, she approaches Voreyn, curtseying politely. "Your G-grace," the Raven murmurs, "s-shall I?"

The Duchess turns from her maid with a calm, smooth gesture and blinks at Meian. It takes the woman a few moments to recognize the bard, but when she does her lips split into a cheerful, proud smile. "Mistress Raven, quite a beautiful costume you are wearing! I daresay you will be a rare beauty at my little gala," she compliments, offering Meian a nod of her head and a gesture toward the ballroom with her chin. "Yes, you may set up. Is Mistress Silverdew coming, do you know? Athear is in the ballroom now, being surly and directing people about no doubt. Just tell him you are there to set up and he'll assist you if you need it. Thank you again for providing the entertainment."

A deep breath- and this time, when the Raven replies, her voice is devoid of its stutter. "Thank you, Your Grace- this is my common costume for such affairs. And aye, she's coming, though I don't believe she plans to be in costume. I'll go on ahead, then- and you are of course welcome, Your Grace. Thank you for hiring me." A curtsey once more, and she drifts on ahead.

Somewhere between the preparations and the rushing about, a page finds time to open the door for a young bardess. Looking a little stiff in her pristinely-kept dress, Zia follows the boy inside. One hand clutches her trill, the thumb of the other hooked in its customary position beneath the strap of her pack. She looks vaguely nervous, but hides it well.

Without waiting for the page to take her to the Zahir, she steps forward and makes a low, graceful curtsey. She's practiced it. "M'lady," she greets softly.

"Ah, Mistress Silverdew," Voreyn greets, turning to Ziavri and nodding in approval. "Mistress Firelight has just gone ahead toward the ballroom to set up if you'd like to catch her up."

"Aye, M'lady," Zia says, straightening and looking after Meian's direction. "I'd like to get a few things straightened out before the guests arrive." Managing a smile, she starts off after the raven-clad liltrumist.

A hiss of scale announces a guest that - oh, while not really early, isn't quite yet into the fashionable bit of late. Not that he'd likely notice. Yet, more than the soft sound of his motion, the happy babbling voice announces him far sooner.

"... ssso I had a bucket and I wasss putting water on the fire but it wass not going out but I wasss /trying/ and then a very nicsse man sssaid that you were a 'night-spelled-with-a-kay' inssstead and /that/ did not make sssenssse but I guesss if you wisssh to be night you can and then thisss issss a /very/ big /door/."

In pursuit of the the babbling, over-excited Syladris comes Duhnen, doing his best to keep up. The Seamel wears no costume, but then again, he likely doesn't need one, standing out more than enough as is. Eyes burn a molten brass as he leans heavily on a long silver staff, glancing to Aes, as well as his surrounding as he can. "Right. A Knight. Like I said, Master, I'm your escort tonight. So...I suppose I'm here to keep you out of trouble? Or keep trouble away from you?" A smile of faint amusement at that, the man likely aware of the futility of such an endeavor.

Another guest walks into the hall not long after Aeseyri, removing her violet silk cloak and folding it in her arms as she examines her surroundings. Her gait is slightly more relaxed than the typical noblewoman, allowing her hips to sway more naturally. This causes the skirts, pulled and folded and sewn in the back to form an elegant similarity to a snake's tail, to carry on a similar movement in gentle waves. The Viperess continues on, although it can be noted that her masqued head follows the Syladris in what can be assumed as curiosity.

There is a series of hushed voices before another guests arrive. Her face hidden away behind a simple silken mask of white with a solitary rose to one eye. A quick once over to the bustling as though looking for someone in particular, giving a tug to the skirts before falling into step behind the growing receiving line.

Silent footfalls mask the unmasked Athear's presence, if only for a moment. The man hides no intention as he makes his way toward Voreyn with a type of grace that doesn't seem to fit the usual Freelander. Moving about he comes to Voreyn's side, which is followed by a polite bow. "Duchess. The ballroom has been prepared just as you have said.

Everyone should be in their assinged places at this moment." his etheral and whispy tone explains lowly to the woman. Only after he addresses her, does he give the proper respect to the other that have gathered, the scarred man equally bowing as well.

As the guests begin to filter in, Voreyn ends her conversation with the maid. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she sends the maid skittering off toward the ladies and holding out her arms going, "May I take your cloaks, my Ladies?"

The Lady Serpent, in the meantime, turns toward Duhnen and Aeseyri, and approaches to offer both a respectful curtsey. "Good evening, Your Grace, Master Syladris. Thank you so much for coming this evening. Please, Your Grace, do take a seat if you require it; my servants and I will make it our greatest concern to see to it that the Master Syladris has his every need tended to."

Looking to Aeseyri, her green eyes blink once behind her mask before she offers a smile. "Good evening. Your costume is extremely unique."

The syladris shifts from one side to the other, uncertain, but with a very wide smile, regardless. "I worked very hard on it - it isss alright?" He actually turns in a circle, showing it off (and not coincidentally showing /himself/ off) - "It looksss like violet. Ssshould I moo? It would be better, don't you think?" He then edges forward, farther into the hall - ... and, yes, he goes to hug the lady Serpent, "Thanksss to you very much for asssking me to be here.." That has the air of being rehersed. A lot.

And then he's off again, happily rambling - "Yourssss isss very nicsse! You have a tail and it isss very good looking and if you took off your top you would look like Keiresssa sssort of exssept she isss brown and fall and you are darker-sscaled."

Duhnen dips his head to Voreyn in greeting, gripping the staff with both hands. "Thank you for your hospitality, your Grace. It does me good to be on my feet, for a change, and I believe keeping pace with our esteemed bovine will be good exercise." Another smile as he watches the syladris at work, watching him move to his next victim.

Athear Moonhaze eyes the Syladris dubiously for a good long moment. There isn't really much to say on his end of things, being dutiful personal guard and assistant that he is. He takes one step back, falling a step behind and to the right side of Voreyn. And now he scans the crowd gather, beginning to make his mental headcount.

A little bit taken aback, but not so much, Voreyn accepts the hug like one would from a child who does not know better, returning it with a hesitant pat to the Syladris's back. Not as if she has much time to recover, however, as he is off onto the next person to trounce.

Free to greet, the Lady Serpent gestures Duhnen toward the ballroom. "Well please, do seat yourself if you find the need." Now she turns to the red-decked woman and greets her too. "Good evening, my lady, and welcome to Eventide. It is good to see that you could make it." She lifts her voice, however, to call out to everyone gathered: "And please, do head into the ballroom at your convenience."

"Thank you. I am afraid that my date is running late this evening," Red replies and dips into a curtsy. "Everything looks so lovely, your grace. And thank you for the invitation." She looks away to the syladris and her smile is hidden away beneath the mask. "Good evening, your grace," she offers to Duhnen soon after.

The phrase 'if you took off your top' causes a slight reddening of the Viperess's ears and the visible areas of her jaw. There is a somewhat awkward giggle, then, and she speaks in a smooth, well-practiced sort of voice, "Perhapsss we could be cousssins, Massster Sssyladrisss. Although I will not be removing my top, asss I am a viperessss. My ssscales are sssupposssed to cover my entire body." An icy blue eye winks at Aeseyri from behind the violet-eyed masque, before she offers a low curtsey to all of those gathered. She addresses the Lady Serpent, then, "Thisss isss a very lovely placsse. I am glad to have been invited to thisss ball, thank you." Her attention diverts back to the cow-clad one once again, "I like your cossstume. A cow, I take it? It isss very cute."

Aeseyri laughs - "Thank you - it isss Violet." He pauses.. momentarially distracted by looking /up./ "It isss very /tall/ here." And he turns in a slow circle, tangling up in himself a bit as he tries to drink in the entire hall at once. Hissing. Surprised. "There mussst be very many people that live here."

Duhnen steps over to Aes to comment quietly to the Syladris. "This is the Duchess' home. She likely has a large staff to maintain it and do the needed work," he supplies with a small nod, before he smiles and nods to the red garbed woman, and then the Viperess.

"Fashionably late at the worst, my Lady; it will be no faux pas if I say it is so," the Lady Serpent replies to Red Desire with a light, tinkling laugh capable only by those who are quite used to socializing. Her attention is diverted by the Vipress, and she offers a pleased smile and faint curtsey for the compliment. "Thank you, my Lady. It is a humble home, but I have done my best to dress it up a little."

And then she turns about with a swirl of her black skirts and lifts a hand, waving it to catch everyone's attention and leading the way toward the ballroom. "Your Grace," she says as an aside to Duhnen, lifting her gaze up to him with a serene smile, "may I inquire after the health of your family?"

As stated sometime before; Athear has two speeds; constantly moving or statue still. Currently, he's picked the first choice, standing slightly behind and to the right of Voreyn's sides. He does take another moment to look over the ground at large and fold his arms over his chest.


 * Glittering Ballroom - 


 * The cavernous ballroom consists of four walls of granite, flecked with black and silver, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the flowering courtyard. The telltale fountain with its surrounding foliage is visible beyond the smooth transparent panes. Large curtains of bronze-hued velvet are held off into separate corners by ropes, although when released, the massive panels draw together to cover the entire wall of windows.


 * The decoration in this room is much warmer and more inviting than that of other rooms in the castle, with tapestries bearing pastoral images in yellows and reds and greens. A large chandelier dangles from the ceiling, carrying in its wrought iron holders three dozen yellow wax candles. Iron candle-bearing sconces are perched along the four walls in intervals of several feet. The focal point of the entire room, however, is the polished wooden floor that stretches the length of the floor from wall to wall, providing a smooth surface for dancers.


 * On the far end of the chamber, two raised platforms provide seating areas for dignitaries and honored guests, as well as space for musicians to perform. Along the edge of the wall opposite the windows, several four-person tables have been set with chairs for tired guests to recline on. Along the wall adjacent to the windows and opposite the stages are several wooden benches.


 * A swinging biinwood door leads off into the kitchen, while double biinwood doors lead out into the grand entrance hall.

Aeseyri ooohs, softly. "Then it isss not jusst her home, it isss theirsss too?" The syladris gets himself sorted in time to bring up the rear of the merry procession, looking with wide eyes behind that mask at /everything/. He even pokes curiously at the door molding, trailing dried-mud-covered fingers along the dark wood... and leaving white streaks in his wake. on the floor, too, though those are faint.

The Raven and Ziavri both sit at the musician's platforms, discussing in low voices, Raven with liltrum in hand and Ziavri bearing her trill. Right now that wind instrument's playing an easy-going waltz, and after a moment the strings start in, playing along to add an extra depth and complexity of harmony. "Aye, trying is all we can do," the Raven allows gently.

Zia might have answered those last words, but at the sight of Aeseyri - undoubtedly the first of the guests - anything she might have said is cut off as she puts more force into the music. More depth. More surety. Perhaps it won't be so hard after all. Let the show begin.

Duhnen moves along with the procession, staff clicking on the floor as he walks along. "My family is quite well, your Grace," he replies to the Lady Serpant with a smile and nod. "Things are fairly quiet, I'm pleased to say." The silken cloak ripples behind him with each step, and though he speaks with the Duchess, he keeps an attentive eye on Aeseyri, almost as if he were watching one of his exploring children.

Voreyn, too, keeps an eye on Aeseyri, and if she's dismayed by the mess left behind, she makes no display of it. Instead, she retains her charming smile as she maintains conversation with the Duke, walking at his side slowly to accomodate him. "He is like a child," she murmurs to the Duke, letting out a quiet laugh of fond amusement as she watches Aeseyri run about -feeling- things. "It is refreshing; I adore him. Thank you so much once again for volunteering to escort him."

"Aesyri," Red notes in greeting when she comes up behind and around the syladris. Her smile lost beneath the mask as she glides by to get a better look of the ballroom.

Always a mere two steps behind Voreyn, Athear follow silently behind. He does however seem to be some kind of corrdinator, pointing at two nearby servants, snapping his fingers and pointing out at one of sconces that had burnt out for some reason or another. The two, perhaps panicking at the scarred man's icy glare, scamper off to go and repair this slight mistake. Then its back to following, continuing on his mental headcount.

"I'm sure he'll leave an impression upon your home for quite some time," Duhnen answers Voreyn with a quiet chuckle and nod. "I've only met him a few times before, in Crown's Refuge. He hugged and wrapped somewhat around me, if I recall. I think he was impressed with the armor I was wearing."

Aes pauses, the bovine mask turning and the snake-fellow stopping to coil and flash a wide smile at Desire. "It isss a voicsse I know... " He darts forward, impossibly quick, circling and lowering to peer into the eyes of that mask, curious.

Following along with the others, the Viperess looks about the ballroom, icy blue eyes blinking occasionally behind the glittering violet ones of her masque. Her hands are folded before her as she walks, swaying hips again making the 'tail' of her gown ripple gently. She looks back to the others once more and remains silently watching. Mostly the Syladris. It's not every day a noblewoman sees a curious snakeman, after all.

Raven plucks out her notes with careful skill, eyes on the strings, ears on Ziavri's lead which she follows unquestioningly- trained, it seems, at anticipating and providing accompaniment even with unfamiliar melodies. She's careful to keep her liltrum slightly down so the volume of the two instruments is complimentary.

The Duchess sends a glance toward the musician's platform, offering the bards there a cheerful smile to let them know their work is well-performed. She then glances back to Duhnen with a faint expression of amusement. "Did he? Well, I suppose your armor is impressive, as is your walking staff. I am put out, though, that you will not be dancing. Perhaps I will dance with the other Viper, or perhaps force my chilly man there into a waltz."

Desire's eyes twinkle with mirth and she offers a gentle pat to the bovine's shoulder. "I like the costume, Aesyri. Who helped you with it," she prompts in a hushed tone, paused by the approach of the syladris.

Aes's eyes go wide... and then? Desire gets a hug in her own turn, with a happy laugh, and a hissing whisper at her ear (he leaves behind traces of white where the dust of that dried mud is left in his wake) - and he leans back, "I made it myssself. But the Sssongbird showed me a massk. It isss hard to breathe in it." He grins... and disengages, utterly /unable/ to keep from peering around the room, even mid-conversation.

The Duchess gets the slightest of nods from Zia, but not enough so that it might interrupt the music of the trill. One two three. One two three. Easily followed, easily played, easily enjoyed. Good enough. With the music and the knowledge that in fact she -can- do this, Zia relaxes.

"You've likely seen me in it at some point. The bronze, it was," Duhnen recalls, glancing to Voreyn to smirk slightly. "And I do apologize that I'll be unable to sweep you away into a dance this evening, your Grace. But perhaps another time, when I'm more well, hm?"

Athear Moonhaze falters, coughing slightly. For just a brief glismpe into a look that could possible be described him as 'human'. "Dance, my Duchess? I will try." is all that whispy voice manages to get out. Gathering himself up, he goes back to his stony eyed gazing about, making sure everything is going as it should be.

Red Desire dips her head at the whispered words of the syladris. "Yes, and you've done so well with it, Aesyri." She offers a patting swat to his shoulder even mid turn to look about the room. Her own wonder only evident in her veiled gaze.

"Of course, your Grace, and I will hold you to it. Now please, rest yourself and enjoy the music; aren't the ladies divine players?" With a smile, Voreyn departs from Duhnen's side, casting a glance toward Athear and uttering a small laugh at the man's reply before she approaches the Viperess.

"If I hadn't said so yet, it is a pleasure that you could make it, my Lady. I do adore your costume; I suspect it was on the minds of all the Zahir, though, and some non, just to see who could play the better serpent. The card goes to you this time. Who did your dress, if I may inquire?"

An encouraging smile tossed up briefly Ziavri's way, the Raven following along with the waltz, perhaps considering the simple and so-danceable tune a good way to spur the entering figures to dancing. One slippered foot keeps the time, a quiet tapping spurred on by the rhythm.

Zia's own foot moves almost imperceptibly to the beat. Mostly, it's Raven's foot that makes the metronome, and Zia lets the other musician set the pace without complaint. (One two three, one two three).

Aeseyri drifts away, as Desire moves in - slithering among the gathering, poking at a table, and then ooohing-aahing-hissing over the spread of food and drink. It may be unconscious, though, how he moves in time to that music, swaying as it's played.

Duhnen dips his head to Voreyn as she departs, before he begins the arduous process of making his way across the room in discreet pursuit of Aes. Willing to give him enough room to explore, but close enough to intercede. The Seamel nods slightly to various guests as he passes.

The Viperess nods, "It isss a pleasssure to be here, your Gracsse. I had a woman in Trademeet tailor thisss for me, but I forget her name. The desssign, however, wasss mine. I have alwaysss been rather fond of our Houssse being the Houssse of Vipersss. I like your outfit asss well. The wildssstonesss and nightssslider are quite lovely."

With the almost terrifying thought of having to dance when never having the proper training to do so may actually unnerve Athear, it doesn't stop in his task to keeping a watchful eye over the preceedings while at the same time keeping the on the Duchess.

Servants hustle to and fro bearing trays of food - wildcat and elk cut into bite-sized pieces, glasses of red and white wine. Lesser peons of nobility mingle in the crowd as well, and even as Voreyn speaks to Vipress, so does she turn to a peacock at her elbow to greet the woman with a polite bob of her head. "Good evening to you as well, and thank you for coming."

She leads the slow saunter through the ballroom, remaining at the edge of the dancefloor so as to not interrupt the couples already keeping in step with the music. One hand reaches up to adjust her circlet and she casts a smile toward the Viperess. "Thank you very much. I had ordered to make it subtle so as to allow my guests to shine and not I, and I am pleased with the job she did."

Just then, a man wearing a horse-like mask complete with a fake bridle pauses before the Viperess and bows deeply as he inquires, "May I ask the beautiful Lady Viper for a dance?"

Over there near the spot where the stage and food meet - a certain cow has come eye to very curious eye with a male red fox, complete with tail and gorgeous mask made out of dyed feathers brushed to look like fur. Which means, of course, the Syladris reaches out to touch it curiously. "It isss very beautiful and very nicsse - did you make that yourssself?"

There's.. quite a bit of stammering, on the other side of that conversation.

A grin widens on the Raven's pale lips as she watches, suggesting lowly to Ziavri, "Perhaps we should pick up the tempo slightly, do you think? Encourage them a bit... not too terribly, as the night's young yet, but..."

Uh oh. Duhnen pauses as he watches Aeseyri find another party goer to converse with. He sets the staff back on the floor, leaning heavily onto it again, considering the exchange from a discrete distance. Other various party goers give the Battlemage somewhat of a large bit of personal space, but he seems mostly used to it.

A vague nod, just enough to acknowledge the Raven, and Zia picks up the pace ever-so-slightly, still following Raven's metronome and letting her add to that if needed. At the new pace, the swing becomes more evident, more encouraging to the movement of many feet. ..

Desire shadows the knight's steps and pauses just off at his shoulder. "Do you think he will be alright," she murmurs softly and looks over to Duhnen. "It is good to see you up and moving about, your grace."

Shifting enough to look back to Desire, Duhnen considers the woman for a moment, looking her over thoughtfully, before he quirks a small smile. His attention fixes back on his charge. "To whom are you referring to?" he replies in an undertone. "Master Aeseyri? Or the fox?" The corner of his mouth tugs upwards a bit further. "I'm glad to be up as well. I hope to make a habit of it."

Viperess pauses, looking to the horse-clad man and flushing again. "I, uh...," the noblewoman starts, curtseying before saying, "I am not really in the mood to dancsse at the moment, my Lord horssse. The night isss ssstill young, however. Perhapsss a bit later?"

Looking amused, Voreyn separates from the Viperess's side to allow the woman to dance or not as she will, and with a contented sigh she lingers in the background to watch the party-goers begin to pick up the music and twirl onto the dance floor, and before long she is at Athear's elbow with a wicked grin.

"You should dance with me, Master Moonhaze," she murmurs to the man, all the while keeping her sharp green gaze focused on the other guests. "As the host, I should set the scene, should I not? The music is too -good- to avoid for long."

That low but steady metronome of the Raven's foot picks up its tempo gradually, bit by bit, enough to make the shifting from one pace to another easy and subtle. Providing the cues for speed, she takes the cues for melody still from the other bard, seeming to have subsided into a smiling machine almost- the music simply carries her fingers away.

The fox is perhaps a bit /more/ stammery when Aes effectively coils around him, eying that costume at /very/ close proximity - and then using the Fox to lean over and hiss and speak, laughing, to his date - an Osprey, if the plumage is any indication. Whatever he /says/, well - it's not carrying over the music. But. Ever seen an osprey blush? That one does.

"It would be an honor, Duchess." Athar says with a polite nod at Voreyn, even if he looks slightly panicked. He too still keeping his eyes fixated and his attention sharp. "And I would enjoy it greatly. However...dancing is not something that I am well versed in."

"Yes... and it seems he will," Desire offers to Duhnen. A quick glance towards the man. "How is your lovely wife and children? I've not seen them in some time."

"I'm afraid I may need to speak more later on this. I need to step in," Duhnen murmurs in apology to Desire, gesturing to the Syladris, before he moves away from her, and towards Aeseyri and his two new friends. Firey eyes look from one figure to the next as he nears, the Duke clearing his throat. "Master Aeseyri," he butts into the conversation with a rakish smile. "I don't suppose I can pull you from your new friends for a moment? There's something I would like your opinion on."

"Neither am I, but if we at least keep time and move about the room, we should at least -look- like we know what we're doing, hmm?" Voreyn replies to Athear, grinning wickedly now as she turns and holds up her hands - one to hold his and one to place on his shoulder. "You lead, though. Head toward the stage and we'll turn about a bit to get there."

Aes is certainly distracted.. and /pouts/ behind that mask.. but he leans in to kiss the woman's (protected by feathers) cheek, disengaging from the Fox and slithering Duhnen's way, curious. "Yesss? They are very nicsse, did you sssee?"

They're also not-quite-running. Across the room.

And Zia -does- follow, steadily, keeping an even beat with that metronome and not pushing it. With Raven keeping the beat and herself in charge of the melody, the pathway is paved for things to go quite nicely - a sort of symbiotic relationship at its best.

The scarred man doesn't heasitate, at least he's got that much and he takes up Voreyn's hands with his own. "Very well, M'lady." he notes. Waiting only a moment until the right beat, does the man begin to to lead, weaving about other couples that dance as well. For the moment, he concentrates on looking good for the two of them.

Red Desire shakes her wave at the events. She steps a few paces behind the knight, once the syladris is drawn back. "Your grace, if it is alright... I would love ask your companion for a dance," the dreaded words fall from the woman's lips. But she doesn't intrude any further than that.

Quite the scene of merriment and mirth, with the Raven and Ziavri up on the musician's platforms, playing a merry waltz at a swift tempo that seems to be spurring various couples to dance. Red Desire and Duhnen stand near each other, the Seamel speaking to the Syladris- Athear and Lady Serpent dance, while the Viperess discourages a horse-masked fellow from asking for a dance.

"I admit, I simply wished to make a small suggestion," Duhnen states to Aeseyri with a quiet, soothing voice to attempt to mollify any hurt feelings. "It can make some uncomfortable when someone they don't know coils about them, Master." He glances to Desire as she arrives, and he takes a step to the side to chuckle. "It's not my choice, my Lady." He gestures for her to proceed.

"I introducssed myself." the snakey cow over there offers that brightly, tailtip flicking, "Ssso he knew me and it wass alright." And then he slithers up to hug the Seamel Duke firmly - "You are very worried. It isss sssweet."

Smiling rather proudly, Voreyn allows Athear to sweep her out onto the dance floor, and the silken hem of her dress skirts out over the wooden floor. She lets out a quiet laugh of mirth and leans in to murmur something trivial into the man's ear, taking great pain to not tread on his toes with her own slippered ones.

Lord Horse having apparently wandered off, the Viperess lets out a small sigh and looks about the room. She makes for the tables and looks over the food passively, before apparently deciding not to eat and just turning back towards the others. A cowladris scaring off a few people catches her eye briefly, but she decides to leave it be.

Icy blue eyes behind amethyst ones hop from masqued face to masqued face.

A tall figure, clothed in the outlandish clothing adorning many other nobles, steps inside the Ballroom. He is obviously male: the girth and weight of his being indicates that much. Face covered in an elaborate mask, a grinning and mad Saytr, the noble walks past the Zahir footmen and lingers at the edge of the dance floor. The Saytr does not interfere with the other revelers, but quietly walks about the room looking at the various ladies costumes. The expression on the mask is quite leering.

Raven keeps one eye, gleaming pale behind her mask, on the twirling of the various couples- evidently judging it good to continue the waltz a little while longer, although the tempo is yet subtly increasing. What began as quite sedate is now spirited, although not a challenge for your average dancer as of yet.

Two thin lips part in a smile, Athear slightly chuckling from whatever it is that Voreyn whispers to him, his response being a sly smile and a nod before leans over to utter something back quietly. Still, they're in something of a direction towards the stage.

Red Desire chuckles and watches the exchange between coo-syldadri and the knight. A gentle pluck to the skirts, almost self-conscious. "Best not to hug everyone, Master Aesyri. At least, not sure yet."

"Yes, I know, and I'm quite glad you're meeting so many people," Duhnen answers, flashing a helpless smile to Desire as he's hugged by the Syladris. "But them knowing your name doesn't quite mean they're ready to be wrapped up. But...we can save a deeper discussion for another time. The lovely Lady here wishes to dance with you, I do believe." He nods to Desire.

Zia keeps up easily, though she does chance a quick look at the Raven. Though playing the trill isn't exactly conducive to speaking, there's the unasked question there of "How quickly will you make them -go-?" Not that she minds, of course. -Her- feet aren't the ones to get tangled in knots if the speed goes a little too quick.

Aeseyri lets go - laughing... and sweeps over to reach for Desire's hands, letting the length of his tail nudge at Duhnen in a friendly sort of way as he does. "Yesss? I will try. I do not know much dancssing but I have tried to learn. It isss very good musssic and there will be moving and maybe it will be alright?" He /still/ moves in time - almost helplessly so.

As for the Saytr, he calmly walks about the edges of the dance floor. His eyes glance from couple to couple -or rather lady to lady- before he spots the Zahir circlet on the head of a particular masked figure. Stepping steadily toward the Lady Serpent, the Saytr eventually approches and offers a bow. It is not as grand or poised as normal; the man seems to favour his side, and bends with a stiff reticence. Nonetheless, he speaks in a clear baritone, "Good evening, Your Grace. I compliment you on your dress, and the fine ball you have thrown." Simple courtesy; simply spoken.

Voreyn pauses the dance with Athear as the masqued Saytr closes in, and she separates from her dance partner to offer a curtsey to the man. "Well good evening, my Lord, and welcome to Eventide. I am pleased you could make it, and I thank you. Your costume is quite--fitting, shall we say? A succint interpretation of self." She winks, then, and gestures to Athear. "My lord, this is my assistant Master Athear Moonhaze. Athear, this is--my Lord Satyr for now. I will whisper you his name later."

Red Desire offers her hands freely to the syladris. "It's alright. I'm not very good," she replies. She turns to lead the way to the where the other dancers are. "Put one hand to my hips and hold the other," she suggest and doesn't sound too sure herself.

A faint, reassuring smile Zia's way, and the Raven doesn't quicken the pace any further from its toe-tapping, almost infectious rhythm. Lowly, she murmurs, "We'll probably want to give them a break, something calm, slower, more intimate soon- it will favor our fingers, as well."

The Seamel leaves the pair to it, stepping back and from the floor to give them room. He snags a bit of meat from a passing tray, popping it casually into his mouth as he observes the revelry thoughtfully.

"M'lord." Haze greets, bowing respectfully to Satyr. "An honor to make your aquaintence." he greets, while waiting for Voreyn to retake in the dance, whenever she wishes to begin again.

The syladricow does just that - winking at Desire. And then? Bravely. Gamely. He moves out into the dance floor. With her.When you have a /tail/, you're not going to be /turning. Well, at least not in a traditional sort of way. Aes is by no means expert, and neither is desire - but it really does turn into a woman dancing amidst a coil of snake that doesn't /really/ stay out of the way of any of the dancers who are.. oh. Better. Faster, or.. generally quicker or more precise in motion. In fact, that tailtip, and their inexpert wandering around the dance floor is more obstacle than 'vision of fluid grace', a laughing impediment to perfect dancing everywhere.

Another nod, and the unheard wish that she could talk through the pipes of a trill. Relieved that the pace isn't going to quicken further (if only for the fact that it would mean tonight is not the night when she'll have to deal with a roomfull of nobles tied in all sorts of interesting knots), Zia continues to play.

And into all this fun and revelry slithers... what appears to be a moving tree snake. It's a Syladris, but he's totally covered in leaves all over. Slithers in looking rather happily around at all the decor. And following behind is a rather depressed looking knight. He seems rather young, for a knight, perhaps his first errand. His expression speaks volumes. And mainly the words 'Why me?'. The reason for this becomes apparent as the tree turns to him. "Do they have pie? Can I dancssse? Will you dancsse with me? I like thisss mussssic. Can I play along with the musssic?"

Whether the situation of a Freelander dancing with a Duchess were disagreeable to the Saytr, or simply quite scandalous, the masqued reveller makes no comment upon it. He does stiffly nod his masqued head, menacing with its carnal visage, at Athear. "Master," rises the stiff and curt reply to the man. The masqued noble returns his attention to the Lady Serpent. "I thank you for the warm invitation and welcome, my Lady. We do mirror ourselves, do we not? I shall leave you to your -ahem- courtier." Not a masterful and politic answer, to be sure, he bows once more and moves away from the pair. The dancing snake -the real one- quicky draws his attention. It is the second snake-person, however, which causes a grim expression to fall over his face; hidden, of course, by the continually jovial masque.

The Saytr is noticed, the Viperess's smirk hidden behind the ever-present one of her masque's fanged mouth. She approaches behind him, again causing the gentle ripple of her dress's 'tail' with her hips as she avoids Aeseyri's tail. A hand reaches to the Saytr's shoulder and she speaks. "That isss an interesssting outfit, my Lord," the noblewoman says, her voice smooth and practiced as though intended as part of her costume.

Not the most graceful of dancers, Desire tries to get out of the way of coils at the same time of trying to hold fast to her partner. Whispered, "Sorry... excuse me," waft back from the dance floor when and if they should encounter more steady couples.

Thoroughly amused, the Lady Serpent watches the Satyr depart. She turns the expression upon Athear and lifts her eyebrows before rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "I should see to the musicians, though," she murmurs before leaning in to whisper to Athear once more. With a pat on his shoulder, she gestures for him to follow and turns to head toward the musician's stage.

"You ladies are doing quite well," she offers to the two loud enough to be heard over their music but not so loud that she is shouting. "In another number or two, please do take a break to mingle and eat if you're hungry or drink if you are parched."

"Thank you, your Grace," is the Raven's low murmur. "Your care is appreciated. We'll perhaps take turns if that pleases Mistress Silverdew- I can take the second, as I am not yet stiff of fingers or empty of belly."

Duhnen observes the newest Syladris upon the scene, staring for a moment, before muttering to himself. "Tree snake." He grimaces and shakes his head a bit in some disgust at himself, gently tapping his staff upon the floor idley.

The ordered spinning on the dance floor isn't /quite/ so ordered anymore as the vaguely unpredictable reeling of the Cowsnake and Desire has managed to disrupt any pretense at keeping a glittering, spinning circle of dancers going. Nono. Instead, there's an undeniable slow chaos that doesn't result in anybody crashing to the floor or tripping too badly - but is certainly a mixed response of smiles and laughter and growling and muttering.

It likely depends on just how /serious/ the dancer was taking their perfection, in the face of its sudden lapse. Aeseryi's having a ball, himself, laughing as he nearly tumbles over his own coils, barely keeping up with the rhythm, and winking across at Desire.

The Saytr spins around, surprised. He expects to see another Syldaris bearing down on him, the noble is visibily happy at the new addition. Not that it does him any good. With the costume, he looks nothing but visibly happy. The nobleman bows, a renewed stiffness in his movements, to the Viperess. "My Lady. Is it possible that you could be one of the pretty Zahir ladies, or are you poking fun at our monsterous fellow guests?" asks the man in a teasing, singsong way.

The poor knight answers the questions with movements. Shrug. Nod. Headshake. Shrug. Garis looks even happier, and then turns to watch the dancers for a moment. Then spots the cow. "AESSSSSS!" he chirps loudly, turning and slithering towards the other Syladris, arms opened wide, branches spread. Unless the Saytr moves quickly he may find himself either clocked with a branch, or tripped by a tail.

Zia nods her agreement, manages a half-frown without losing pitch or beat, and finds an opening in the waltz. The order of things is well enough established now that the Raven should be able to carry, just long enough for the trill player to get a word in edgewise. Still counting, knowing that the opportune moment to reenter the tune isn't far off at all, she says quickly, "Aye, that works. End of the waltz, then?" And then it's time, and she lifts the trill to lips again. Not to worry, though, the end of the piece grows near.

Red Desire 's back is the cries of her partner's name being bellowed. She tries to dodge another curl of coils and catch sight of the tree snake. The widening of her eyes a subtly, easly missed event.

A quick nod from the Raven, who does indeed carry the tune through even while Zia stops, and her foot-counts begin to slow- urging the waltz towards a natural ending. Although, seeing the chaos on the floor, said natural ending is perhaps just slightly hurried...

Duhnen watches the unfolding chaos. The battlemage lifts a hand to rub at the top of his head, shaking his head slightly.

Arriving fashionably late, a man with dark hair dressed all in white and bearing a wolven mask over his features enters the chamber. Blue eyes look upward to the chandelier before stepping in toward those in attendance with a confident, almost haughty stride.

"Zsssahir, of courssse," the Viperess replies merrily, before Garis's tail catches her foot and she tumbles in the Saytr's direction with a feminine squeak of alarm.

The bellow catches Aes's attention, of course - and, as the other syladris generally knocks people into other people, he.. just stops and stares.. and /laughs/. Oh, he laughs. Apparently, snakey-tailed tree-branched trees aren't nearly as frightening as the real thing.

Of course, his stopping means that there's now an immobile pile of coils in the midst of the dance floor.

Satisfied with the response from the stage, Voreyn turns back to the dance floor to spy the dancers getting along..not quite so well. Her cheeks flush and she reaches up to place her hand over her parted lips as the Syladris send people scattering out of the way and tripping over each other. However, there is little she can offer in the way of assistance from her spot, and so she only stands transfixed and horrified to watch the possible disaster unfold.

Half following the Raven's lead, half improvising her own, Zia guides the waltz towards its end, and finally strikes the last few notes with a glance to the Raven to make sure she's catching cues. "Right, now, I think I've got something you can play if you'd like to get something . . ." she murmurs, beneath the talk of the crowd.

"I think I once heard a song that went something like this," Duhnen muses as he watches the events. He purses his lips slightly, obviously debating whether or not to get involved once again or not.

"All right, you go ahead first if you'd prefer," whispers the Raven, stilling her strings and leaving her liltrum behind once the waltz is satisfactorily brought to a close. She slips down off the platform, gracefully moving towards the chaos.

The Syldaris, tearing through the crowded room of polite nobles, is quickly spotted by the masqued nobleman. Deftly moving out of the way, the Saytr adroitly misses the barreling form of Garis. He is quick enough to catch the toppling Zahir, and steadies Nayla on to her feet. Asking, concernedly, "Are you quite all right, my Lady?" the Baron moves her away from the crowded edges of the dance floor. Before the Syldaris is quite out of earshot, the Baron loudly and accusingly cries, "You boor! Apologise to the Lady Zahir at once!" The masque may be a drunken and maniacal smile, but the lord underneath is not very pleased.

Unfortunately, the slithering tree has no idea what a boor is, and even less of an idea that's it's directed at him. He just slithers at high speed through the crowd, causing a few dancers to narrowly miss being hit with a branch, trying to hug both Aes and Red Desire. "Aessss! And flower lady! Hello!" The poor Knight who accompanied him is just watching with a frozen look of horror. The look of someone who knows exactly whose neck is on the line.

Red Desire chuckles, skirting out of the way of coils and the oncoming tree. "Master... master Garis,' she calls out curiously and the smile she flashes to Aesyri is well out of sight to the white silk.

The song finished to a disaster, the white wolf brings a manicured hand up to his lips to hide a somewhat amused smile. His eyes catch on a few figured there, but the mask makes it a little difficult to see who specifically has earned his attention.

Shaking his head, he heads for the stage and the Lady Viper. "Hmm... I see what happens without me." he comments with no small ammount of humour to his soft voice.

Duhnen /does/ sigh at that, looking to the new Syladris' observing Knight, before he sets off across the dance floor to approach the gathering, fixing his bright eyes alternately upon Garis and Aeseyri.

Zia watches the Raven slip off the platform and takes a moment to breathe regularly, casting a worried glance in the direction of the chaos before starting in on the next number. Another time, she might get involved, but that's not what she's hired to do. Without bothering with scales, she heads straight into the beginning of a eerie, quiet, and fairly slow piece.

Luckily.. the dance ends in time to avoid broken dancers or more than one or two stumbles - and Aes, behugged, hugs right back. "Garisss!" Laughing still, and as that hug ends, he points out - "You knocked the pretty not-sssnake over. You are very /wide/."

"I'm fine," the noblewoman responds, a hand resting on the Saytr's upper arm, "It was an accident, Lord Godric, be reasonable." She removes her mask, revealing her fair face, ruby lips curved into a soft smile of reassurance. "This ball is meant to be fun. Do not make a scene, hm? Besides, I am quite capable of handling my own affairs." Nayla's icy blue eyes seek out Godric's behind his masque in hopes that he will calm down.

The sound of namecalling calls Voreyn out of her state of shock and she quickly bustles out onto the dance floor to deal with some damage control. "Now now," she murmurs to the parties involved, standing amidst the chaos and attempting to direct it. "My Lord, we needn't shout for such things, the room is small enough that we can hear each other. But with such a barrel chest as yours, I am sure it is hard not to add volume," she directs toward Godric in a sweet tone before looking to the Viperess.

"My dear, that was an unfortunate accident indeed. I am quite sure they are not used to such confines, being as my keep was not built to maintain their bodies. Are you quite alright? If it was not for the Saytr's fortunate catch, I daresay we would have had ourselves a wolfpile."

"Aeseyri-" The Raven's voice, high and light as it is, *carries*- a trick of intonation more due to practice than any natural force. It arcs across the room, as she approaches the two Syladris. "Why don't you introduce me to your friend, aye... Over here?" And a point over her shoulder, at a nice, non-occupied corner of the dance floor.

"I will gut that monstrous abomination!" vows the Saytr, his maddening anger not entirely out-of-form with the masque's character. He first turns to the Viperess. "Please, do sit, my Lady." The Lomasa leads her toward an empty chair. "It is impardonable. That brazen Syldaris ought to be horse-whipped! Such cursed, horrid monsters as these-" The ranting, not necessiarly hushed, is not shouted across the room. It is most likely broadcast far enough that a few passersby or nearby guests could hear the outburst.

"Excuse my tirade," Godric sighs, bowing his head apologetically to Nayla. He has controlled himself. As Voreyn approaches, the Baron bows once again. "My fair Duchess. Your guests are most - unusual."

Duhnen arrives just in time to find nothing happening, the Knight nodding his head to those gathered, and turning to consider Garis. "Greetings, Master. Good to see you this evening." A glance is given to his gawking Knight, the Seamel lifting an eyebrow.

For a brief moment, Zia wonders how much disruption she could cause in current problems, and whether or not they'd be of a good sort or not. Not good enough to fix more problems than it would cause, she decides, and heads along with the piece as planned. It has a distinctly foreign tone to it, though whether it actually -is- foreign or not is anyone's guess.

The Treeladris tilts his head a little at Aes, frowning. "...Pretty not-ssssnake lady?" he asks. "I did not knock one over?" He turns to survey the room, looking around for such a thing, and then spots her. Everyone else is quickly ignored, Raven's request missed, Duhnen's greeting missed, as the Syladris slithers over to her, totally ignoring the Satyr to lower himself down to the Viperess. "I am ssssorry pretty not-ssssnake lady!" he says in a shocked tone. Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Would you like sssome pie? ISss there pie for you to have?"

Voreyn's sweet smile continues even as Godric goes into a little tirade. She keeps her voice low, however, and to her credit does not glance away to see if anyone is listening. "My Lord, they are quite unusual and exotic, and as we all know, sometimes it is difficult to adjust to such newness - on both sides. Could I not direct you away toward the wine tables, perhaps, or out into the gardens for a breath of fresh air? Perhaps the Lady Viperess would love to stroll about with you. The lower grounds of my Keep are open for your perusal." Placing one hand on the Satyr's arm, the woman leans in to whisper something to him.

This entire time, Athear has been watching with a look of muted annyoance, even if there are hints of a smirk with how the Syladris's act, even if parts he can't agree with. Still, he stays a Voreyn's side, just waiting on the off chance that she gives a command.

Aeseyri laughs, gently - and looks up to the Raven, nodding, brightly. He even sweeps that way, getting off of the dance floor (tugging Desire along, if she's of a mind) - "He isss very young." That's said quite seriously. "But he isss very kind."

The White Wolf waves a flippant hand towrds the dance floor, now allowing his smile to be revealed. "Oh, that would have been a disaster of epic proportions. I might have bit." he says.

Standing aside as she deals tactfully with the potentially volitile situation, his attention wanders elsewhere, merely watching everyone for now.

Red Desire is deftly tugged along. She glances ovre her shoulder towards a familiar voice and levels her gaze on the wolf, offering him a small wave. Then she soon ferried off to the side of the dance floor and towards Raven.

"Aye, he seems kind enough, just rather... overexuberant," the Raven tells Aeseyri, softly laughing. "I'm afraid someone is going to have to work on Syladris dance sooner or later, hm?" And while she's at it, she politely curtseys to Red Desire, the two matched in colors if not in full costume.

Duhnen sighs as the situation fixes itself, considering those about, before nodding. He looks again to the other watching Knight, gesturing towards Garis expectantly, before turning about to relocate Aeseyri, hobbling off.

"Oh, do not say such things, love," Nayla says to the Saytr softly, "The one that was dancing is not so bad, although I have yet to meet-" She is cut off as Garis approaches and nods, "I am fine, Master Syladris. No harm done." She quirks a quizzical brow at him and adds, "Um. No thank you, I am not really in the mood for any pie..." She does not take the seat offered her by the Lomasa, instead nodding to her Matriarch's suggestion, "A walk sounds rather nice, actually. What do you say, my Lord? It could be a good opportunity to catch up, seeing as we don't often run into one another."

The Baron bows once more to the Duchess, deferring to her. "Of course, my Lady," Godric quietly answers her whispered words. "I thank you." Not saying anything to Garis, Godric offers Nayla her arm and proceeds to lead her toward the Conservatory. "Charming idea."

Still keeping a slow pace, even though it still has that vague, beautiful yet peculiar unfamiliarity about it, the music rolls steadily on. Watching out in the crowd, Zia taps her foot in time, fingers flying across the wholes, holding here moving quickly along there. Alert, but still at ease with her musical abilities.

With a heavy sigh, Voreyn watches as the Saytr moves away before turning to address the White Wolf with a more charming, natural smile. "Brother," she greets, leaning in to hug him briefly in a rare display of affection. "I am so glad you could attend. I was worried business would keep you away forever; I do adore your costume, by the way. It is so fitting. Have you met everyone here or should I introduce you? I -will- have to show off my two honored guests to you in just a moment."

Garis turns to look around the room curiously before his knight approaches him at Duhnen's prompting. "Ahhh... My Lord Garis...." he says, sounding unsure about what title he should actually use. "..Jusssst Garissss," the Syladris chirps in happily, still rather curiously looking about at the dancers. "..AH. yes. Well, perhaps, Garis, you would like some food." And rather boldly, the knight attempts to take the Syladris's arm and gently lead him off that way. He's rewarded with a beaming smile from the snake man. "Yesss! Food is good!"

The White Wolf inclines his head towards Red Desire as her wave catches his attention. His gaze follows her towards the gathering between she, Aeseyri, and the Raven. Eventually, finding nothing further of special excitement going on there, his gaze wanders back towrds Nayla, the Satyr, and The Lady Viper, whom he finally approaches. "Ah, a good evening to you all, nd welcome... It is good to see you."

Turning specifically towards Nayla, he sttempts to lean in and peck her cheek in greeting. Wonderful to see you again, cousin." he comments before Voreyn accosts him with a hug that he returns warmly.

"Ah, dear sister... you Do know how to throw an exciting party." he comments, then makes a mock injury as a hand touches his chest. "I am not your two honored guests?" he sks with a chuckle. "But please, I would like to meet them. And you look stunning as usual."

Aeseyri leans up to hug the Raven, then, happily - "You will have to teach me - it isss a thing I wisssh to learn. To dancsse. I wasss hoping to learn before now. You are very good - and ssso isss /ssshe/.." He waves happily up to Zia. "I am very glad that you are giving musssic here."

Following along, Athear offers another polite bow for the noble that Voreyn speaks with. Not much more than from the scarred man. He seems content to play up the assistant/guard role.

"Hello Mistress Raven," Desire offers in a soft voice. Her green eyes dance in amusement at the current conversation. "There is always Master Songbird. He's an accomplished dancer, from what I saw when in the Refuge last."

Zia finds half a beat in which to make a flurry of a wave back in the Syladris' direction, once again wishing that the trill were a more accommodating instrument as far as communication goes. Half a smile, and then she's off again on an upward climb across arpeggios and scales, rather busy for conversation.

Voreyn pulls back from Eldan and lets out a light laugh, waving a dismissive hand. "Merely something I threw together at last minute. It is not nearly as elegant as the costumes I see dancing about here. But--if I may tear you away, I shall introduce you to my /other/ honored guests, two Syladris from Crown's Refuge." Slipping her arm under the White Wolf's, she pauses to await his response as she glances to the faces swarming about them.

Duhnen pauses a discrete distance from Aeseyri once more, watching over his Syladris protectively, and with a faint amount of amusement at something.

Raven returns the hug gently before pulling away, smile gently rueful. "Aye, we play well together, but I am afraid I do not dance," she confesses. "And I should probably let her take her own turn off, soon. Mmm- keep on eye on the young one, then? I'm sure you'll help keep him out of trouble..."

"There isss no trouble here." Aeseyri is very certain. "It isss very grand, and everyone isss nicsse." He grins, and edges back, coiling there at the edge of the stage. "It isss very pretty - but.." He leans in. "The mussic isss prettiesst of all." And he turns to Desire.. then on to Duhnen. "I think I wissh sssomething to drink - would you like sssomethiing?"

Trouble? No trouble at all. The younger Syladris is happily scarfing food down at the food tables. And then pauses for a moment as an idea occurs to him. Shaking his arm free from the knight, he delves into a pocket and withdraws a trill of his own, with which he begins to harmonise along with Ziavri's playing with gusto. The knight goes just that little bit paler, quickly looking between the guests to find out if this is something he should stop.

Eldan chuckles and links his arm with Voreyn's, allowing himself to be led along. "Ah, yes. They are, after all, difficult to miss, are they not?" he says, eyes twinkling with happiness. "I see they atleast know how to make quite an entrance."

Nayla takes the Saytr's arm and smiles to the White Wolf as she receives that little peck. Her masque is returned to her face, then, and she nods, "Likewissse, cousssin. It hasss been a long time." And with that she follows along with Godric. Tra-lala-lala.

"Yes, please," Desire offers to Aesyri and looks over to Duhnen. There's a subtle shrug. "I do believe there is someone I should at least say hello to, if that is alright."

Zia's brows climb into her hairline as the unexpected strains of music come from the crowd, and she searches - without missing a beat of course - for the source. Discovering the trill-playing Syladris, she barely represses a grin before it can send a particularly high note awry, and nods in his direction, then at the now-vacant portion of the stage. After all, no particular reason not to. ..

"No. I don't quite need anything to drink," Duhnen replies politely to Aeseryi with a small smile, before glancing over his shoulder to the new source of music with a curious eye. He stares for a moment, before returning his attention to the pair, gesturing for them to do as they will.

Grinning, Voreyn leads the way toward the Syladris one at time, heading first for Aeseyri over near Duhnen. If she can, she flags the Syladris down before he runs off too quickly. "My friend Master Aeseyri," she calls out to him as she leads the White Wolf over. "I would love to introduce you to my brother, if you have a moment."

Getting the impression that the Duchess would like to catch up with her brother, Athear silently moves away from Voreyn. He begins to move about the room at a casual pace, always making sure that his employer is within eyesight.

Aeseyri gets caught, before he moves - flashing a bright smile, and calling over merrily, "I am not a 'massster' - it isss too many namesss. Aessseyri isss hard enough to carry sssometimess." He coils primly, that smile so wide, and warm - "Your brother isss a wolf? It isss a good massk. Thisss meansss you have the sssame parentsss, yess?"

The musical Syladris just grins around the trill at Ziavri and slithers over to the stage, ignoring the Knight. Who's now gone a whiter shade of pale, the look on his face indicating he may be wondering if the Syladris is about to start turning cartwheels across the dance floor. He moves to catch up, at least trying to stand some sort of guard, but can be heard murmuring "..Oh.. Light.... what next?" by anyone close enough. Garis on the other hand goes straight onto the stage and to the indicated spot, getting into the music.

Turning about as he hears Aeseyri addressed, Duhnen begins to move to follow. Apparently the event of his charge meeting with the brother of a Duchess is enough to cause him to fall in next to the Syladris to observe the exchange.

Raven begins drifting back towards the stage- but at seeing Garis head that way? Though she looks mildly alarmed at first, she makes no effort to reclaim her seat just yet. Instead she moves towards the knight, murmuring lowly, "Take comfort, my lord. Up there, he is unlikely to destroy anything from sheer glee."

Red Desire offers another small wave. "Do forgive my early arrival," she offers to the wolf with a brush to her skirts. Unable to stifle a chuckle at Aes's comment.

The white wolf who is brother to a snake-lady bows a low and formal bow to Aeseyri, a movement graceful from years of practice. For several moments, he seems a bit uncertain as to what he should say, the nearness of those coils drawing his blue eyes downwards. "Ah... Aeseyri, it is a pleasure." he finlly gets out, his voice soft and even. "Baron Eldan Zahir." he glnces sidelong to Voreyn with a questioning look before nodding uncertainly to the syladris. "Yes, we have the same parents."

Zia practically beams at the new arrival to the stage - but, of course, there's no time to actually -say- anything. She does, however, play a tad bit slower to accommodate an easier accompaniment - at least until she knows how well the Syladris can handle his instrument.

Aeseyri looks mildly confused at the bowing, just holding both hands, abruptly, out to the wolf. "You have many namesss. There are many baronsss and many Zahirsss.... may I remember you ass Eldan? I do not think I will remember the otherss."

The knight gives Raven a grateful look as the Syladris continues to play along with the music, harmonising rather well. Yes, he can handle his wood...en trill.

Duhnen simply watches the exchange between Aeseyri and the Wolf, eyes flitting between one and the other consideringly. Playing the role of observer, he doesn't interject.

"I do not think he will object to that, so long as it is only you and your fellow Syladris who address him as such," Voreyn replies for her brother, looking quite amused now at the meeting as she clasps her hands before her. "I hope you are having a good time here, Aeseyri? You are a guest of honor, after all, and one with the cutest costume, I think."

Red Desire skirts away from the group. She pauses long enough to collect a glass of wine and returns to the group about the syladris.

A figure in a white brocade robe trimmed with anae stork feathers pauses at one of the entrances to the ballroom, presenting an invitation to someone in livery. If there's such a thing as fashionably late, the stork is just that-- And if not, well, she's just arriving late. Either way, the petite figure slips into the ballroom with a graceful stride, the folds of her feathered robe ebbing and flowing with each step.

Pleased with the Treeladris' skill, Zia ups the bar a little, watching carefully. Same melody, same haunting, eerie flow of notes, but now with grace notes added in, a few broken chords here and there for the grace of them, and one or two of the trills the instrument is so well suited for.

Athear Moonhaze continues to move about, the silent set of eyes that are more than watchful of the goings on. When he passes by the food table, he does makes to grab up a little something to much 'n walk.

Now it is Eldan's turn to look confused, this time at the sylaris hands held out towards him. As Voreyn answers for him, he nods his agreement. "Well, yes, you would not know about all of such things just yet. Baron is my title, and Zahir is my house name, it means that I am... related to some degree to all other Zahirs. But yes, you may call me by my given name, Eldan."

Red Desire recieves a small shrug. "There is nothing to forgive, my dear Lady. I would not expect you to miss such an event.

Turning next to Duhenen, he gives the Duke a bow as well. "Duke Seamel, i am pleased to see that you have come."

Garis grins at Ziavri, following along with just a bit of difficulty. It might be the limits of what he's able to play right now. Still, he's smiling the whole time.

Zia -would- return the smile, but it's been mentioned several times that she's rather preoccupied at the moment. It's in her eyes, though, as much as it could ever express itself on her lips, as she eases back on the grace notes a tad, searching for the perfect level to play at in order to accommodate her new-and-unusual partner.

"Evening, Baron Zahir," Duhnen returns the greeting from Eldan, dipping his head to the other man. "It's my pleasure, of course, to attend her Grace's lovely masquerade and home." Pleasantries exchanged, he falls quiet again, leaving Aes completely free to speak.

Aeseyri leaves his hands out there .. but somehow manages to /preen/ after voreyn's words. "You think it is cute?" Apparently, that merits a sidelong look at the Duchess, the syladris posing for best effect, even tilting his head to make the banding on those horns gleam. And his smile widens - "Then it will be Eldan - it isss a good name for a wolf."

Voreyn turns to glance toward the entrance and catches sight of the newest addition. Placing a hand on Eldan's arm, she smiles to him gently. "Please, stay and talk with Aeseyri. He is an amusing conversationalist," she says to her brother before turning to flutter off in the stork's direction.

"Ahh, Duchess," she greets, holding out her hands to the woman. "It is such a pleasure to see you here this evening. I admit I was saddened by the prospect of your absence."

Red Desire returns to Aesyri's side, chuckling at the preening. "Thank you for the dance, Aesyri. See, your costume is the talk of the party," she offers and nods to Eldan.

Lady Stork weaves her way through the attendees, making her way towards Voreyn. She slows to a feathery halt, lifting her mask briefly-- Sahna Nillu grins widely over at Voreyn, eyes alight with amusement. "I always get lost in Zahir lands.. You can thank that bog of yours, Rei and I were wandering around for hours, with me trussed up like an exploded pillow." Her gaze slips over to Duhnen, for a moment.

Raven bides her time while Zia and Treeladris play, evidently in no hurry to interrupt their impromptu duet, but close by the stage to move up when it's her turn- smiling gently as she listens.

The word 'Duchess' has Duhnen searching about again, turning about to fix eyes upon the Stork. He quirks a small smile to her, shifting his weight on the staff he holds as support, and dipping into as much a bow as he can manage.

Letting out a light laugh, Voreyn grasps the stork's hands briefly in greeting. "I apologize. I need to send my man out to put up guide markers at one point, but then again, there are some people I wouldn't mind seeing lost in the bogs. Still, welcome to Eventide, late as it may be, and please come join the festivities. They are still proceeding quite nicely."

The level that Ziavri reaches is just perfect for the Treeladris as he plays along rather happily. The knight seems to be relaxing just a little now that nothing is being broken, no one is falling over.

No explaination given to him, Eldan is still uncertain what to do with Aeseyri's extended hand. Finally, in bafflement, he extends his own towards the syladris with hesitation, though he does not make contact. "And Aeseyri is a good name for a lord of the Syladris."

He turns a small smile towards Red Desire. "Your costume is quite fetching this evening, my dear. Where ever did you happen to come up with it?"

Sahna blows a nochalant kiss to Duhnen, then clasps Voreyn's hands in return, laughing again. "Thank you for inviting me, Duchess, I think it's just as well.. Lately I haven't been feeling terribly social, so perhaps this is a good time for me to arrive."

Aeseyri reaches out to take that hand in both of his, laughing then - "I am not a lord. It isss jussst Aessseyri. it isss a funny thing, thesse namess that pile on ssso." He leans in, stage-whispering - "Do you know how to dancsse?" Perfect. Pleased - anything impromptu usually has that effect on her - Zia gives the Raven a half-bemused expression, and then adds a light, syncopated cant to the music. Not a difficult one to follow, but with the effect that it becomes more conducive to dancing. This will last for a while, she figures, and then the piece will have to close. It's already been a fairly long one.

Red Desire gives a brush of the skirts. "Thank you. It was based from a concept that was once shared by Lord Lomasa. I found it quite amusing and took a different twist," she confesses.

Duhnen makes quiet sound of amusement at the gesture from Sahna, before looking back to Aeseyri and Eldan as the Syladris leans in closely. The Seamel actually nods his head in satisfaction at that. No coiling is taking place.

"Perhaps it is. Please do mingle," Voreyn offers to Sahna as she gestures toward the other guests mingling about. "I have something I need to go check on."

No coiling taking place, but the sudden proximity of Aeseyri and the taking of his hand causes him no small ammount of alarm. "I... err. uhm, yes. I... I can dance somewhat." he stutters out his answer before looking to Red Desire, like he's silently asking her to rescue him.

"Hm.." Sahna pauses, craning her head for a moment with a look of puzzlement as she realizes that there's a cow present that doesn't have actual legs. Eyes widening, she turns back to Voreyn and whispers, "That's, ah, one of the ah, I mean, they.. You know, I haven't met one yet! Who is it?"

Aeseyri laughs - almost helplessly, hissing and leaning a bit closer to Eldan - personal space? This exists? And he asks - "You will teach me later then? It isss sssomething I wisssh to know." There's something wicked in that - mischevious at least.

Red Desire glides to the wolf's side. "Do you think I could steal him away, Aesyri. He's was to be my escort and we've not shared even a single dance," she confesses with a sigh.

"Ahhh," the Lady Serpent lets out a quiet chuckle as she slips a hand under Sahna's arm and begins leading her over toward Aeseyri and Eldan and Duhnen. "A Syladris. His name is Aeseyri, and the Duke Seamel is his escort. Let me introduce you, shall I?"

As the two arrive, Voreyn drops into another curtsey and interrupts the conversation with a light, "Aeseyri, I would like to introduce you to the Duchess Sahna Nillu."

"Timely," Duhnen states in amusement to Aeseyri. "One leaves, and you meet another. Your head must be spinning tonight, Master." He looks back to Sahna and winks at the Nillu.

And on the stage the other Syladris is quite happily playing alone with Zivari, dressed as a tree. Follows along with the cant to make the dancing music dance happily. The Knight who's escorting him has finally relaxed enough to go get a drink. Of water.

With a meaningful glance at the Treeladris to indicate that the end is near, Zia starts to slow the music, gradually, bringing down the volume to a soft murmur, and finally to a stop, praying all the while that Garis can follow it all right.

Sahna steps forward with every evidence of delight, finally getting annoyed with the pushed-up beak-masque to pull it off entirely. She smiles widely, her best Nillu butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth smile, and offers a sweeping curtsey to Aes the cow and Duhnen the.. Well.. Duhnen. "I am pleased to at last make the acquaintance of a Syladris, Sir Aerseyri. The terms "Duchess' and 'Duke' are far too formal for this budding diplomatic relationship, so please feel free to call us all by the more informal 'smoochiekins'. His grace the Smoochiekins of house Seamel especially likes that, since it's got a nice alliteration to it."

The White Wolf can't quite help but to lean back away from the encroaching Aeseyri. But at Red Desire intercedes, he does look to her rather gratefully. "Y-yes, I'd be happy to... to show you some time, Aeseyri." he nswers nd moves to the noblewoman's side. "Yes... We should have atleast one dance. I am not wonderful, but I can sometimes hold my own. The next song, then."

Red Desire nods, chuckling at the crowd that continues to form about the syladris. "Good evening, your grace," she offers to the approaching stork, mirrored even with a curtsy.

And when the wolf escapes! Well. Aes is then bombarded by introductions and Duhnen and then curtseys and... he just laughs. "I will remember you asss 'sssmoochiekinss', then..." And he gives up on the mere idea of restraint, actually offering the slight Duchess a hug. But look! He doesn't dart forward to /take/ it. "It isss a very good name. But doesss it not get confusssing to ssshare it ssso?"

"His Grace Smoochiekins certainly does /not/ like being called that," Duhnen chimes in with a good humored smirk and a click of his tongue. "But by all means, please address Duchess Nillu by the title of 'Nuzzlenose', since she's such a fan of alliteration. Alternatively, Snuggleskirts will suffice as well."

Garis grins at Ziavri, catching the look and nodding, slowing the song and stopping with her. The Knight looks a little petrified now the Syladris is finished. "Thank you!" Garis says, turning to Ziavri and nodding, then moving to slither off the stage towards the gathering. "Hello!"

Raven deftly slips back on the stage once Garis vacates it, giving Ziavri a gentle smile. "Oh, well done," she whispers sincerely. "That definitely kept down on the chaos a little there. Take a break- you've earned it, mmm? Send him back up here if things get... fractious."

Zia nods to the Raven, letting the trill slip to her side. "Aye, has it?" she asks, her voice slightly raspy. She coughs, grimaces, and smiles sheepishly. "I think I'll get some water. I'll see what trouble he gets into, and if things get . . . I'll find out if you need a partner, hey?" With a slight smile, she heads offstage towards the promise of water.

The Viperess returns to the party, alone and unmasqued for the time being. Nayla is smiling slightly as her icy eyes sweep over the room. Not much in the way of chaos, and a new arrival. Her masque is then returned to her face once again and she heads towards the dance floor to watch and listen to goings on. Sahna gets a bow and a soft, "Your Grace," in greeting.

The wolf looks a little alarmed at first as Aeseyri is used as a pawn between the coy Duke and Duchess, but he is free from the attentions of the Syladris. Standing beside Red Desire, he offers his arm to her, but noticibly cringes when the younger and more exuberant Garis approaches noisily.

Seeing that things are now running quite smoothly, the Lady Serpent takes a moment to back away from the crowd and head toward a side bench to take a seat. She fans herself quietly and sighs, tilting her head back against the ballroom wall. Her sharp gaze flits upward to stare quietly at the chandelier.

Oh! Uh! Hugging, yes, this isn't what she's used to. Sahna looks confused for a moment, then returns the hug, her expression an interesting study of bemusement and bewilderment. All things considered, it's a fairly akward hug. "Snuggleskirts? Why, smoochiekins, I didn't know you care." With a wicked smile up at Aes, she adds, "You know, on second thought I wouldn't want to confuse our esteemed guests! You can just call me Sahna and, well, don't let his protests fool you, it's Fastheldian custom, you see, for men to pretend they don't like the more informal names. Why, I call him Dunnybunny all the time and he hasn't managed to poison my drink yet, not even once!" She declares, recovering quickly from her brief confusion-- The tone is definitely one of good-humored teasing now, at least, instead of mock seriousness. She grins over at Nayla, bobbing her head in an amiable nod.

Passing the group of nobles and the Cowladris in the middle of them on her way towards the drink table, Zia leans close to Aes' ear in order to murmur a soft-spoken "Watch yourself," before she's off for the table again. It's a wonder she can even talk at this point - the music's gone on for some time. Tomorrow, the voice will suffer. Tonight, water's the first thing in order.

Aeseyri, with all the dignity a hugging cow can muster, sticks his tongue out at Sahna. Yes, it's forked. And then he says, brightly, "I think I will call you 'nuzssslenosse' becausse it isss a good name for you and it isss very eassy to remember." He nods, attempting seriousness, but that mischevious smile gives him away. "You ssshouuld remember me asss Aessseyri. And I think I will remember /him/ asss Dunnybunny."

Raven sets into a pleasant, not-too-fast tune, an airy and cheerful melody that may stir those already inclined to dancing, but doesn't compel weary feet into another round if they're not feeling like it. She settles her eyes on her strings, slipping easily into that calm musical state that sort of overwrites all lesser concerns.

After her short-lived break, Voreyn rises up from her bench and proceeds toward the musician's stage. She waves to the bards to get them to cease the music and she rises up to stand beside them. "Pause for a minute, please? I need to make an announcement." With that, she looks back out on the guests and clears her throat loudly, clapping her hands together and calling out, "A moment of silence all of you, if you would please do me the honor. It is about time to announce the winners of the costume contest."

"You really need to stop telling everyone of your name for me," Duhnen asides to Sahna with a wry smile, before he shakes his head to Aeseyri. "If you call me that, I'll be forced to call you Lord Aeseyri Syladris of Crown's Refuge. So it's not advised," he mock threatens. Turning about as Voreyn addresses the room, he focuses his attention upon her.

The White Wolf stops and lets Red Desire depart without their dance taken, but as Voreyn mounts the stage, his blue eyes focus upon her and he falls to silence.

Garis slows down as he approaches the others, looking like he's about to introduce himself to Duhnen and Sahna when Voreyn speaks. He peers over curiously. "Competitionssss?" he asks Aes quietly. The knight is following with his glass.

Sipping quietly from the newly-acquired glass of water, Zia floats back in the Raven's direction, towards the stage to lean against it in silence while she listens to Voreyn's verdict.

The Viperess turns quietly towards her Matriarch as she calls for silence, folding her hands before her in polite anticipation.

Sahna beams widely bobbing another curtsey. "I would be honored, mainly because it'll annoy Duhnen." She declares with a laugh, then reaches out to pat the Seamel almost apologetically. "Aw. I can't help it. I was just born bad, they tell me." She winks, then turns her attention to Voreyn.

Raven quickly quiets the music as she's bade to, pausing the song rather than ending it as it's only just begun, and turns her attention Voreyn's way obediently.

Aeseyri blinks, and looks up to Voreyn - asiding to Duhnen. "that isss too many namesss. I would break under the weight of them. It isss very cruel. Dunnybunny."

"I have my own weapons. I can be quite cruel, Lord," Duhnen replies to Aeseyri quietly, glancing to him and smiling. "The choice is yours, of course." He looks to Sahna, reaching out a hand to flick a finger playfully at one of her.

"For the award of Best Male Costume, it has been decided that Aeseyri's 'Violet the Cow' could not be topped," Voreyn announces with a laugh, looking to Aeseyri and gesturing toward him to single him out for others to see. "But because I am not accustomed to offering a prize to a Syladris, he will have to seek me out after this to tell me what it is he desires of me. I offer whatever is in my power to give."

Pausing, she then looks back out over the crowd before smiling again and continuing: "For the Best Female Costume, it was unanimously decided the Mistress Firelight - our fair Raven - was exceptionally creative. Her prize will be one of the horses bred by House Seamel for their agility and speed.

"Now let it not be said that the other costumes were not exceptional in their own way, and the level of unique ideas and creativity has been set with tonight's masquerade. Now that this is over, let the music and dancing resume! Thank you everyone for attending."

The announcement made, Eldan moves forwards towards the stage, a hand offered to help Voreyn climb back down gracefully. "Ah, my dear duchess, I do not suppose you would do me the greatest honor of allowing me this dance, hmm?" he asks her, grinning under that wolven mask of his, quite possibly made from the head of an actual wolf.

The announcement causes the aforementioned Raven to blink in surprise, rise to her feet and curtsey very deeply in gratitude. "Thank you all," she says softly, her smile rather shy... and nothing else, resuming her seat and the pleasant, calmly merry music once more.

Nayla applauds the competition's winners somewhat enthusiastically, and lifts her masque from her face to show that she is grinning. Somewhat amused, really, perhaps at the fact that the cowladris's costume won. She offers a nod to Aes and Meian in turn, "Congratulations." The Viscountess is in a good mood.

Zia takes another swallow of water and glances up at the Raven with a grin. "Surprise," she remarks lightly, and hoists herself up to sit on the edge of the stage - but to the side, where she's both inconspicuous and out of the way. "I'll take the next song," she offers.

Aeseyri looks, really, mostly... just a bit lost.. but, well, the applause has him posing just the same, blinking at Garis, then at Sahna and Duhnen and... you know? Apparently Syladris /can/ blush. But he says, brightly, "Thanksss to you - " And then shifts, uncertain.. but, smiling!

Return to Season 7 (2008)