The final course is wheeled in, and distributed to the tables. A fattened hen was set before each guest and chaperoned goose-eggs. And more--thrushes of pastry, stuffed with raisins and walnuts, followed by quinces stuck over with thorns, to represent sea-urchins.
A large and final centrepiece is dropped on the tables,--to all appearance a fattened goose, with fish and fowl of all kinds round it. The dish was positively swimming in cooked meats, their juices co-mingling in the worst ways.
"Please do dig in, everyone. I assure you the hen is...boned."
"I think I would rather die than eat this!", Merrick cried out, playfully.
"Ah, but you don't even know what you are rejecting! Friends," cried Maeder, "every single thing you see on those dishes is made out of one substance. Would anyone care to guess?"
The slightly drunk man who had an earlier outcry tries his luck again, a little sloppily on account of the wine; "For my own part, I shall be greatly surprised, if it is not all made of filth, or at any rate mud. When I was in an establishment in the Lower Towers of Sharn, I saw some sham eatables of the same sort."
Courtesy of the saffron filled pastries, Irirangi finds herself covered in acrid yellow powder. It's all over her face and hands and dress, even her hair contains streaks of the stuff.
"So that's your mother. What accident is she talking about - were you hurt? Starlan, do you see that map - it's amazing..."
"Sillas, may I look at the map? The performance is astonishing, but I need to move if that's not too rude."
Easing herself around the edges of the room and trying not to draw attention to herself, she goes up to the wall-filling map and gazes longingly at it.
"Where would we need to go to find this vault? Twins, you have access to transport don't you? Oh, of course, you don't know about this yet and you might not approve. I'll tell you later. When things are less - heady."
The thoughts come idly, casually, almost dreamily.
"Can saffron get you high?"
"What is going on with you girlfriend? Is this night of the strange substances or what - will you get a grip right now before I turn into your mama and smack you."
Maeder keeps his eyes on Iri as she walks around the room.
"No, not filth! I can assure you, good sir. As I hope to grow a bigger man,--in fortune I mean, not fat,-- I declare my cook made it every bit out of a pig. Never was there a more invaluable fellow! Give the word, he'll make you a fish of the paunch, a wood-pigeon of the lard, a turtle-dove of the forehand, and a hen of the hind leg! And that's why I very cleverly gave him such a fine and fitting name as Daedalus."
Maeder points with his flute to a servant who bows politely.
"All of these things constructed by a master hand, ladies and gentlemen. For it requires a master craftsman to turn the one into the many. Swirling, swirling, swirling and eventually coalescing into what you have in front of you."
Maeder points indiscriminately at a table.
"Like us, good sirs and madams. It takes a mighty fine man to make us all swirl here together, on this day. A talented man, a beautiful man, a passionate man. Sillas ir'Vraxeris is this man, and many others, I assure you. Please join me in applauding him. Come on Sillas, stand up now, this is all for you."
"So that's your mother. What accident is she talking about - were you hurt? Starlan, do you see that map - it's amazing..."
Sillas pauses for a long moment before answering [/b]'It is a...story for another time. Let us leave it at that.'[/b]
He follows her gaze to the map and tries to direct a thought to her, rather than broadcast it to everyone.
'Exquisite isn't it? And so very tempting. Do you too hear the siren call of those blank spaces on Merreck's map? He wants to travel again, and the idea is far from unappealing to me, I must confess.'
Sillas stands, bowing graciously and smiling to the assembled crowd. "Thank you, kind sirs and gentle ladies. Thank you for attending this celebration. But I fear it is not I who should be applauded, but the fine performers and their master Jester who have created for us such a fine night." he raises his goblet of wine in toast "To an exemplary performance." he finishes, still smiling.
Keep it together. Tonight, you are still Sillas ir'Vraxeris.'
As if planned, Maeder and the other servants make a grand, sweeping bow, and quickly set upon dismantling the tables.
In a flash, servants run around, kicking over tables, sweeping all the food to the floor with large sweeps of the arm. The synchronized servants brought all of the tables out of the room in a hustle. Oversized brooms were brought to bear on the floor, and within seconds the room was clear, leaving a large number of astonished guests sitting in the middle of the room.
Suddenly, the lights switch off, leaving only a faint blue glow to work with. Far too dark for humans to see, most guests must guess as to the goings on. The sounds of scurrying end.
Silence falls for a few brief seconds, before the staccato sounds of numerous small objects hitting the ground fills the dining hall.
Slowly the light level of the room is turned up, with swirling multicoloured balls floating from table to table, providing ghostly illumination.
New, slimmer tables have been brought in, covered in saffron and vermilion covered sawdust. The floor has been littered with crushed crystal, that glints and sparkles with the changing lights.
All of the servants are unmasked, their facial coverings thrown in a pile in front of Maeder's table.
A low hum begins to build in the room.
Hopping on top of the pile of masks, Maeder begins his last poem;
"Friendship's a name, expediency's mate,
The shifting symbol of the changing slate.
While Fortune's on our side, our friends stay true;
Let her once change, farewell the recreant crew!
So on the stage, one plays a father's part,
A son's, a rich man's, each with pliant art;
But when the play is ended, grave or gay,
Dropped is the mask, and truth resumes her sway."
With the last line delivered, he adds his mask to the pile, and brings his flute to bear. The sound that is delivered from the instrument seems to resonate and vibrate with each and every person in the room, instilling them with energy, making their muscles twitch with electricity.
While he begins to play, the band joins in, accompanying him in a song they must have practiced a million times.
A number of guests take to shard covered dance floor, eager to spin and swirl in the sparkling colours.
Well, I won't hold back anymore then,
I take a breath, glance around at my companions with a smile,
concentrate on the energy of the mark as I gently touch it,
and leap up, flipping backwards as I land by the Halfing Lass.
"May I have this dance?", I sweetly ask.
Jump Check = 20 w/ Exp. Retreat & Guidance (using an Action Point if needed
Sillas pauses for a long moment before answering [/b]'It is a...story for another time. Let us leave it at that.'[/b]He follows her gaze to the map and tries to direct a thought to her, rather than broadcast it to everyone.
'Exquisite isn't it? And so very tempting. Do you too hear the siren call of those blank spaces on Merreck's map? He wants to travel again, and the idea is far from unappealing to me, I must confess.'
Similarly trying to direct her thought at Sillas, Irirangi can't hold back her longing.
"Oh Sillas - you have no idea. I want to go so badly I can taste it. Along with the saffron", she adds on a more prosaic note.
"Would you like to dance? I don't usually, but your friend is doing something odd to my feet."
The halfling girl giggles and introduces herself as Maida. She's quite impressed by the show, and takes very little convincing to get her on her feet. She's no klutz on the dance floor, and is able enough to keep up with you, despite the speed granted to you by the mark.
While Irirangi is focused on the map and the mental communication, she doesn't notice a man approach from behind her.
"It's quite wonderful. Beautiful, really. Someone explained it to me earlier. There's quite a journey ahead. For him. Uncharted territory, destiny and all that."
He trails off, looking a little embarrassed.
"Excuse me. It's not quite fair of me to approach like this. I know who you are, but I'm not sure you know me. My name is Keegan, of House Orien. We were to meet tonight, you understand, but the circumstances were so extraordinary I didn't want to rush anything."
He slowly begins to turn red in the face, and idly scratches the back of his head.
"You put on quite a show. Outside, I mean. And so I know that you can handle yourself in combat. So, please don't hit me if....if I ask you to dance? Would you?"
He stretches out his hand to Iri.
Sillas pauses for a long moment before answering [/b]'It is a...story for another time. Let us leave it at that.'[/b]He follows her gaze to the map and tries to direct a thought to her, rather than broadcast it to everyone.
'Exquisite isn't it? And so very tempting. Do you too hear the siren call of those blank spaces on Merreck's map? He wants to travel again, and the idea is far from unappealing to me, I must confess.'
Similarly trying to direct her thought at Sillas, Irirangi can't hold back her longing.
"Oh Sillas - you have no idea. I want to go so badly I can taste it. Along with the saffron", she adds on a more prosaic note.
"Would you like to dance? I don't usually, but your friend is doing something odd to my feet."
'No. I think we can understand each other exactly on this.
Yes, he knows how to put on a moving show, and yes, I would like nothing better than to share a dance with you.' Sillas replies in the thought-whisper.
Twirling and lunging with Maida amidst the bedazzled floor,
we circle the surreal ball-room, careening past masked servants wheeling carts of exotic delectables, our slight forms slipping thru the more ungainly humans (and others) around us...
"I feel... I hardly know a whole side of Sillas... yet this evening seems to have brought together every aspect one may know him by, or indeed... the world."
Amplifying a gentle spin with the magic affecting me, I amp it up till, locked together, we're spinning like a top on a layer of sparkling beads, the world around us a blur.
"I seem to have come to a point, Maida, where I must choose... A change of careers, I guess, although I thought I was quite enjoying my work with the Guild... And I don't even know how much of a choice I have, because if my intuition whispers to me... I must follow..."
The spin winding down and the rest of the world un-blurring, Starlan finds himself and Maida to somehow have moved to a mezzanine overlooking the party, with windows opening onto a balcony letting in the cool night breeze. Suddenly at a loss for words, I glance between the party below us, and back into Maida's eyes.
"Sorry if I was running off... It's nice to just be here like this..."
Cheers, Sillas!
"A change of careers? What do you mean? You want to be a dancer or something?"
As Maida twirls, the air seems to blow through her hair. She's light on her feet, and able to teach Starlan a thing or two about dancing, yet.
Startled, Iri turns to face the young man behind her. As she listens to him she blushes very red indeed, remembering her antics from earlier in the evening.
"I'm so sorry," she gulps out. "I knocked you out didn't I? That really wasn't good manners. You are alright aren't you? They looked after you?"
She looks hard at Keegan, trying to size him up.
"We should dance and I would like that, but if you will forgive me, our host has asked if I will join him. May we speak later?"
"Sillas, I've met my betrothed. It's odd I know, but I'd still like to dance with you first. I lied a little. Which I know is very wrong and bad."
Her last comment is aimed far more generally, but the first part is clearly intended only for Sillas.
"You could do worse girlfriend. He's kind of soggy though. Go dance with Birthday Boy, you know you want to. Floozy. Yeah yeah, don't grit your teeth at me Missy. I know that face."
"If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O uncontrollable!
Travel green-eyes. Travel the world as you travel your mind. Take us with you. Share it with us. Oh this party, this party, such inspiration."
"Sillas, I've met my betrothed. It's odd I know, but I'd still like to dance with you first. I lied a little. Which I know if very wrong and bad."
'Then I am honored, Irirangi.'
Approaching Irirangi and Keegan he speaks aloud, nodding slightly to Keegan "Heir d'Orien.".
Turning fully to Irirangi he bows slightly and extends a hand "May I have this dance then, Miss Biasharan?"
"You could do worse girlfriend. He's kind of soggy though.
Sillas replies to Aphra. 'Yes. I find it in somewhat poor manners to accuse your host of feeding you garbage, no matter how finely sculpted.'
"It wasn't very polite, but I think he might still be a little concussed."
With a polite nod at Keegan, Iriangi steps towards Sillas.
"I would be most honoured and I thank you. Forgive me Heir d'Orien, but the birthday rites must take precedence I think."
As they move away, she pulls a slight face at Sillas. "I'm a terrible dancer. Really terrible. Consider yourself warned." And then after a slight pause,
"Does it seem as odd to you as it does to me that we can have a private conversation using real speech? That's becoming a bit of a rarity."
Then she concentrates on not stamping on his feet.
Keegan nods, and heads back to his table, more than a little sullen.
Merreck and Tara are seen twirling throughout the dancefloor, clearing having a great time, as is the case for most of the guests. Even Madame Vraxeris spins and shimmies with a group of the servants.
Thervi however wears the face of concentration. Clearly she is the one helping control the lights, and the swirling music.
After a few inspiring songs, Maeder retires his flute and leaves the music to the hired musicians. The crowd hardly needs a magical compulsion to continue dancing; the wine continues to flow.
He walks over to Thervi, and the two begin to chat. It's quite difficult to make out what's being said, with the distance, the din, the chatter and the distractions.
"Well, that's it. I'm still not convinced. He's certainly acting a little different, and he's with a weird crowd, but I think he's just our Sillas. I don't care what the note said, to be fair. We would be stupid to ignore it outright, but we would likewise be stupid to focus any more on it. We put on a good show, and if that sets anything in motion, so be it."
Thervi shoots a glare at Irirangi.
Shake and Switch are seen tumbling through the crowd, each with a full glass of wine, clumsily spilling it more than drinking it. Their hands are linked as they twirl and spin each other around the room, giggling.
A fat cigarette hangs out of Shake's mouth, filling the air around him with swirling smoke.
'I don't believe that wine and concussions mix especially well.'
Sillas chuckles "However, the company is far superior to most other."
For a moment he's quiet, focused on navigating the dance floor. "Yes, our minds are no longer any more private than a normal conversation. At least we only broadcast what thoughts we try, rather than everything that flits through our minds."
He notices Maeder and Thervi talking, and strains to hear what's being said. 'Old habits die hard, after all'. He catches what Maeder says, but before he can hear Thervi's response the crowd sweeps the two of them away. He frowns slightly for a moment before regaining his composure and moving on. 'This could be bad...'
Sillas chuckles "However, the company is far superior to most other."
For a moment he's quiet, focused on navigating the dance floor. "Yes, our minds are no longer any more private than a normal conversation. At least we only broadcast what thoughts we try, rather than everything that flits through our minds."
"This company generally or mine specifically? I don't think the Heir d'Orien would agree if you mean me specifically. I don't think mama's going to be happy about this either." Iri shrugs, "I'll deal with that later, or I'll try to."
Concentrating on her feet, it takes Iri a moment or two to clock Tervi's glare. She flinches a little. "They might not be the only people I've upset. It seems to be happening a lot today."
She looks up at Sillas, risking taking her eyes off her feet for a second. "Did you really mean you'd consider helping me rob that bank?"
"Yes, your's specifically. So many of the people that mother invited are well, here because it would be impolite for them not to be invited. They're not here because I enjoy the company. You however, are one of the people who I'm glad was invited. And in my experience, it's very hard to please everyone." noting the glare from Thervi he sighs "Especially her. Just ignore her, she's like this with pretty much everyone at first. Don't let it get to you."
Sillas stays quiet at her question for a moment before smiling at her "Yes, I meant it. I'll help you. It'd be a damn sight mroe interesting then my day to day routine."
Ellirayne had stayed polite and quiet throughout the procedings, not letting any of her true feelings at the performances show through. Each course she waited for others to eat before eating herself and only ate enough to be polite, keeping perfectly to the letter of the etiquette required of the situation. She even managed to keep up a visage of enjoying herself a little from time to time.
As the music began she easily took her brother's hand and the pair made their way onto the dancefloor. Twirling almost effortlessly with him a small smile came to her face, they were well practiced in these moves, not the best by far but they could handle themselves and have some fun.
Then the compulsion faded.
Elli's face pales as she steps away from her brother. "I.. Need to go find the bathroom" She whispers at feeling the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes at the heartwrenching realisation she'd followed a compulsion so easily, despite everything that had happened earlier that day. Giving a slight curtsey to Deerian she excuses herself from the room to get a breath of fresh air.
Although far from enjoying the oddness of the party Deerian followed his sister's lead and politely endulged in the food offered. Still it was best to keep quiet even after the 'scene' with the cook being threatened.
Things took a slightly better turn when people got up to dance. Falling gracefully into the familiar pattern's the young man enjoyed the simplicity of this moment.
As the compulsion faded the young half elf bowed politley to his sister as she quickly left. Quickly casting a simple cantrip he sent a whispered message to his departing sibling.
Elli and people close enough to hear the whisper
"Elli be ok. Come get me when you need me."
Having been made angry enough as he realised there had been a compulsion in the dance the young man was filled with rage at the response it caused in his sister. Taking a moment to calm himself and let an icy cold take over his anger Deerian walked calmly towards the gaily dressed minstral.
"Pardon my intrusion.. I sat by whilst you danced your extravigant tastless performance but by what right do you put any sort of compulsion on people.. even one so simple as to dance. It breaches all form of etiquette." Although he keeps his words polite his anger was visable in his eyes.
"Listen here, boy", Maeder says with a twirl of the flute. "I would hardly call any facet of tonight's performance as 'tasteless'. Perhaps you just need to develop the proper palate for this sort of thing. This flute was given to me by a faerie friend, and he magic in this thing is harmless. So it caused you to dance a little. No harm done, look at the others, all dancing of their own volition now. If you got up to dance, magic or not, it's because some little part of you wanted to. I can see it in your burning eyes. Face it, when the magic came trickling up your spine you wanted to give into it."
"Oh... I don't even know, I just know my future is seeming less and less like my recently enjoyable past... And I just can't really turn it down, because... I'm needed, and... great people, like Sillas and that woman, Irirangi standing there next to him, are all counting on me. How do you know Sillas, yourself? Or are you just enjoying the show?", I say with a smile.
"The was nothing tonight that was in any way tastefull. Although from a painted popinjay I would expect nothing less. But when you threaten people and people don't know your intent bad things can happen. Like those blessed with magic standing up for those you pretend to threaten." Wanting nothing more than to release his feelings in a violent outburst Deerian sends out a quick thought. "I am truely sorry Sillas."
"Oh and indeed I would love to dance with you but it's best if I don't draw steel at this party." With that the young man swings a punch at the arrogant elf. Punch (1d20+1=17) Dmg (1d3+0=3)
"Oh look I guess your magic left some residual compulsions."
'Sorry for...' Sillas' thought trails off as he sees Deerian take a swing at Maeder.
'For all art there is someone, a person incapable of seeing the wonder created by the artist. It seems that that blind fool would be you, Deerian d'Lyrander. Blinded by your 'manners' and incapable of appreciating the beauty and art of his performance.' Sillas lashes out at Deerian, stopping dancing and striding over to Maeder and Deerian.
"It is in poor taste to attack one who is an honored guest, skilled performer, and close friend, Lyrander. Poor taste indeed."
Unable to see events from her spot outside the room Ellirayne feels her blood run cold at the psychic conversation. "Sillas, do not dare call my brother any sort of fool, or you will live to regret it." Wiping away the tears in her eyes she starts to make her way back towards the party and her twin. "There is only so much a person can stand, and any sort of forced magical compulsion is wrong. Our minds are our own, or should be."
Distressed at the turn events are taking, Irirangi moves to the tall graceful girl and touches her arm gently.
"Ellirayne - I think this compulsion was innocent and well intended, aimed only at giving pleasure to many on a happy occasion."
She pauses, not wanting to inflame and already tense situation.
"Forgive me, but did something happen this afternoon to upset you? You both seem to be a little overly sensitive to what is happening this evening.
And as you can see, our thoughts at least are open to each other. Should we so choose. Among this group our minds are not truly our own. Believe me, I've had a lot of experience with that and there is comfort in it as well as fear."
"Nice shot kid. I wouldn't try it again, if I were you."
Maeder rubs his sore jaw.
"Actually. I think you should sit down until I say so."
'Well my dear Lyrander, I wouldn't call your brother a fool, under normal circumstances. But I would call any who attacked my guest, my friend, simply because of his skillful art, a fool.
"Nice shot kid. I wouldn't try it again, if I were you."
"Indeed, it would be most inadvisable." Sillas says coldly. "Please, have a seat. Over there."
"Music should speak for itself, it does not need a compulsion to assist it. The dance is so much sweeter if it's your own choice to follow the beat" Ellirayne replies gently to Iri's words, having to blink a few times to hold back more tears. Continuing onwards she arrives at her brother's side in time to hear the two men telling Deerian to sit down.
"And yet are there not those who have the desire, and need only a small push to give into that inclination? No, I do not blame Maeder for his weaving a spell into the melody. And any who do blame him, would be advised not to do so until after he is finished here, and to be more tactful than your dear brother was."
Irirangi crosses to Maedar. "May I look at your jaw? I'm a trained healer." she adds.
"I've never been to a party like this. So many layers of imagery. I loved it even though it frightened me quite a bit. I can see why the Lyrander heirs might have over-reacted. That was intense."
Then she shares a secret smile with the elf and murmers very quietly for his ears alone (unless anyone is standing close enough). "But I'm glad you did the last bit. I never dance normally - due to being extremely clumsy."
"Khyber's rocks, what's this even about? Guy gives you a free moment of happy at a party and you freak out. That makes sense."
"So harsh always Aphra. You have no understanding of the sensitivities of others. I see real pain, genuine confusion, much trauma in these twins. Extend the hand of friendship Aphra. Piteous Ellirayne, she of the the wounded heart, take comfort.
If Thought and Love desert us, from that day
Let us break off all commerce with the Muse:
With Thought and Love companions of our way -
What'er the senses take or may refuse, -
The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews
Of inspiration on the humblest lay.
Or to put it another way, look inwards to the cause of your upset, not outwards to blame a worthy artist for plying his trade so magnificently."
"I've known Sillas a long time. We were friends in childhood. We've certainly grown apart in recent years, but hey, we all change, right?"
She leans in and kisses Stalan on the forehead.
"So...what are you doing? After the party?"