The festivities and idle chatter continue in Mineire's makeshift tavern for almost another hour, exchanging stories of the various worlds, getting soused up on planar beverages, and all-together having a relatively normal get-together, at least as normal as can be for beings who walk the Grand Staircase and whose power almost equals that of demigods.
At the height of the festivities, a figure walks into the tavern. Looking at the being, it is almost like a man around eight feet in height formed of a glittering red crystal, almost like a living ruby dressed in a regal purple nobleman's outfit, trimmed with exotic white fur and studded with vibrantly-colored feathers. He pans his gaze around the room, glowing eyes the color of topaz gazing around the room. A smile forms on his crystalline face and he speaks in a warm, but somewhat foppish, tone, "Pardon this one, Lords and Ladies! This one asks for but a moment of your time, if you would indulge him."
After waiting for everyone to quiet down and orient themselves towards him, he continues, "You have this one's sincerest apologies for interrupting your festivities, but this one has a message for you all."
He lightly snaps the fingers on his right hand and, in front of each of the assembled Lords and Ladies, a white card with golden lettering appears. The cards are addressed to them by name in lettering that seems to shift, covering the range of each individual's languages and alphabets. "You are all cordially invited to the Paradiso Ball of Gossamer Lord Lucien Adere, Lord of the Stair, Wielder of the Eidolon, Master of Secrets and Lies, Savior of Lightsworn, and Warden of the Athenaem. Lord Lucien was simply elated when he discovered that so many had Ascended and simply HAD to invite you to his little fete. The party will be hosted at his manor on the world of Solamnis. He has keyed your invitations to the Door so that you may gain entry. The Door is ornate and golden, inscribed with depictions of angels roughly two hundred feet above Union's Door on the right, if you know the reference point."
The crystalline man foppishly flicks his hand, "Do any of you have any questions for this one? He would be most pleased to answer any questions the esteemed personages assembled here would ask him."
Garron steps forward a few feet.
"What exactly is this Lord Lucien celebrating, and why has he invited us?"
Sashin shifts down into her dhampir form in order to receive the invitation.
Reading it to herself, she's instantly intrigued.
"Interesting, a party? Tell this Lord Lucien that Lord Sashin plans to attend, good sir."
Mineire smiles, though no one can see it, in recognition of the location on the stair. He waves his hand and a n invisible servant begins packing things into the wagon.
"This Athenaem, sounds familiar..." Mineire says, inviting explanation.
The crystalline man smiles warmly at the giant Garron, "Lord Garron, is it? Lord Lucien's jubilee is celebrating his one-thousandth year as Lord of the Stair. He has been too preoccupied lately with planar matters to worry much about celebrating the last century or two. Given that the Dwimmerlaik have been driven to hiding in the past century and that nasty business with an imminent divine war has been averted, he finally has the time to celebrate. Some of the most august personages of the planes will be attending, from Lord Raziel Terjuron the Slayer of Demogorgon, to the Sultan of the Efreeti, to the rather entertaining Zagyg the Mad. It promises to be a, shall we say, interesting gathering. This one believes that it is a pity that the celebrations will only last two point six-seven days."
He looks at Mineire and nods, his crystalline skin making a slight tinkling noise, "Yes, the Athenaeum, the heart of the Stairs that formed upon Lord Lucien becoming a Lord of Gossamer and Shadow. The same Athenaeum that rumors abound of that twists and turns pathways for intruders, forcing them back to where the entered momentarily. The Stair is mysterious and Lord Lucien cares not for explaining it's whims."
He bows to Sashin rather elaborately, "Ah yes, that is pleasing for this one to hear. Lord Lucien will be pleased to hear that one of you esteemed personages was eager to accept his invitation so quickly."
"I shall be glad to attend, as well. I do assume there will be sufficient guard? So many important personages gathered at once, seems an invitation to trouble."
As the invisible servants conclude their duties, the wagon's opacity lightens and its tracery forms a small but intricate pattern, which floats onto a small piece of paper the merchant produces. He then tucks the paper into the folds of his robes.
Not having opened her invitation yet, Yin is staring at the shifting letters
"Oh, i know what it says. Silly me. I saw them 6 lords on a journey but how could I have seen that if I was not there to see?"
Yin turns around the tiny invitation in her hands, clearly seeing a pattern in the morphing letters that no person of sound mind could expect, before holding up the unopened letter
"I have a question, too. How did you make this? It's fascinating!
Oh, and another question: Why only two point six-seven days? We could just make it seven point six-two days. We'd only need to swap two words and all is perfect!"
"I will be glad to attend"
Garron gently places the invitation under his belt and finishes the last swig of fire giant brew.
Barrett listens quietly while considering the invitation. He wasn't much a man for fancy get-togethers - was he really considering a second in such a short time? Then again, the chance to mingle could help him pick up the trail. Plus, Lucien owed him a beer anyways.
"I'd be happy to oblidge." he says as he tucks the card into a pocket. "When'll we be heading out?"
(Still a bit dreamy, reluctant to release his grip on the bursting-with-color memories brought back from the taste of lunar nectar), Oneidros listens as his new acquaintances discuss the invitation with the ruby man who offered it.
Really? I've attracted the interest of a powerful Gossimer Lord? This Lord Lucien--or someone at his gala--might well be able to aid me in tracking down Belem and recovering the Sapphire Root.
The head-of-stick-and-rock and the fey-head-within both nod. "You can let your Lord know that Oneidros of the Blooming Grove will be honored to attend."
The 'man' lets out a laugh, "Sufficient guard? As if anyone in all the infinite worlds is foolish enough to invade the home of THE Lord of the Stair? This one laughs at the notion, he does!"
He turns to the small winged girl and tilts his head, "You speak very strangely, little one. How novel! As for how the invitations were made..."
He produces a coin and flips it in the air, then waves a hand. The coin turns into an invitation identical to the one Yin has, only with the name 'Zuurin' engraved on the front, "Wrighting, little one, is how wonders are made. Will woven into reality, drawing upon Umbra and Eidolon alike to create things that piddling things like magic can only spawn through the most belabored of efforts in comparison."
He flips the invitation and it changes back into a coin, "Ah yes, this one apologies, for he forgot to introduce himself. Zuurin is the name of the being standing here before you, the one wondering why you asked why two point six-seven days like it is odd."
Zuurin nods to everyone who accepts, "Most excellent! More guests for the fete. Lord Lucien shall be pleased indeed. Are there any more questions? If not, then I will see you all in six point nine-three days at Lord Lucien's manor."
"Never underestimate the stupidity of dwimmerlaik in large groups."
While listening to Zuurin's explanation, Yin continues to gaze at the invitation, then lands and places it carefully on her shadow, which flips it over and seems to turn it around on its own. Meanwhile, Yin turns towards Zuurin again:"Weaving will into reality, it is. I knew, kind of. It reminds me of the raw dreamstuff, which can be molded into form. Only that that only works IN the dimension of dreams, and the creations won't last, but the principle, thats the same"
Yin busily nods while talking, then tries to pick up the invitation again, which takes her a little because her shadow seems to playfully flip it away from her grasp repeatedly. When she is successful, she looks at Zuurin again:"And of course I will attend. Thank you and your lord Lucien a lot for the invitation!"
While saying that, the elaborately bows towards Zuurin, then heads over behind the bar, to Mineire, and whispers to him
"I assume that a gathering of Lords and Ladies such as ourselves should be able to defend ourselves adequately. If we cannot, do we really deserve to be Lords or Ladies? Besides, I would relish the chance to destroy more of those vile creatures."
"If a gala full o' some o' the most powerful Lords and Ladies can't defend themselves 'gainst the dwimmerlaik then we needn't be trying to stop them."
Yin flies towards Garron and Sashin, an unusually serious expression on her face, and speaks with a voice sounding more monotonous than usual:
"Defending ourselves is one thing, and a feat I think most of us should be quite capable of, great Ones! What is more challenging is to make the dwimmerlaik fail. Because their goals are many, and the ways they try to achieve them legion. And foiling the plans of an enemy when you don't know what he wants to achieve, thats a teensy bit harder than defending oneself from attack."
While saying that, clearly adressing Sashin and Garron, she looks at Oneidros with sad eyes...
Oneidros winces as the others discuss the ease of defeating Dwimmerlaik. With sadness in his eyes, he says "Would that that had been the case for me. My only encounter with them was with Belem, a foul general of sorts, and his twisted giant minions.
"At the time--I'm ashamed to say--I was utterly unable to prevent him from sacking my domain and stealing or driving off all I hold dear. Of course, since then some of his taint seems to have...infected me, and led me out onto the Stair. I know I'm far more able now than I once was.
"Will it be enough?" His face-of-wood-and-rock takens on a too-wide, wicked grin. "I hope to find out!
"At any rate, I trust in the Lord Lucien's hospitality will be quite secure and will await his fete with pleasure."
"Tell me, Oneidros, who is this foul general you speak of? Surely I would of heard of him."
"Belem of the Dwimmerlaik, I've learned he's called. To me he appeared as a massive humanoid in slate armor, with a pale green light glowing through the cracks of it. If you--if any of you--have knowledge that could help me track him down I would be most indebted.
"He ruined the Blooming Grove, my home and the most beautiful realm I've yet to encounter, where a deep flow of Eidolon and Umbra have always been kept in fecund balance by..." realizing he may be saying too much (especially in the presence of a dragon who may well be horde-hungry) he hesitates, "...by the tool Belem stole. I must reclaim it, lest the uncontrolled flow of Eidolon and Umbra there tear the Grove asunder for good."
And I must find my Queen, Jaelendra, if she yet lives...and avenge her if she does not.
"Well, we could start heading that way down the stairs. If we have spare time we could stop off at Union or somewhere else nearer to our destination."
"I'm sorry Oneidros, ta have one's world destroyed must be incredibly painful. We ever find Belem i'll make sure ya get to kick his teeth in."
"Aye Miniere, lets head out."
"I am ready to go whenever the rest of us are. I tire of this place, anyway."