[IC] The Party
The ruin had been rebuilt with solid, impossibly to acquire Afhari wood from the black reach. It was miraculously strong, and the floor was tiled with rare black marble. Every goblet in the place, even those held casually by the courtesans and guards, were silver, with those of rank holding chalices of gold with jewels, and needless to say, all of them flowed with the finest wine.
The party does not have many true "guests".. but invited guest had brought an entourage of operatives and assistants, and they appropriately marvel at the austentateous wealth, as does do the associates of Lasier, Lord of the Isle.
Higher ranked guards, accountants, and the sailors, once castaways, now wealthy beyond their dreams, enjoy viandes, potables and mild halusinagens from across Arceum, a feast that would not be out of place in the palace of a national level ruler.
Dancers and singers provide entertainment, and of course, the prettiest (catering to a wide range of tastes) of the isle's slaves are on courtesan duty tonight, pouring wine in scant costumes.. though even the pretty slaves are adorned in diamond, jade and gold (and not much else).It is mainly the hired help who enjoy such plebian pleasures, though Mother's Son, the pirate lord, despite his age still seems to appreciate fine vituals. It is said when he was younger, his appetites were truly legendary. By the end of the night, they no doubt will be.
Others sit quietly and observe, perhaps enjoying the music and looking for every advantage. One quiet merchant sits and listens appreciatively as a desert scarred howler played the haunting songs of the desert. Though they brought some joy to the merchant, he his heart was guarded, looking to any in the room that might bring treachery, and looking for any advantage he might find in this lion's den.
Some men who thought themselves cultured studed the works of art in the place - some of the finest works of art had been brought in and strewn across the room, including moving clockwork portraits (the latest craze among Vissio nobles) and truly exquisite Dublinai ceramics, simple but breathless works of negative space. The more cosmopolitan of them debated which was greater.
An aged Dublinai merchant, could not help but marvel at the gladiator, stripped of his customary helmet, revealing the features of a Patrian high noble - one with a sterling war record, chained and caged in the corner. It was said that gloating was beneath the superior man, but it was impossible to keep the smugness on his face. Perhaps he'd fought in the war?
In the other corner, corner, another warrior brooded, trying not to pace in the area she'd been chained to, avoiding all the wine and food set aside for her. She knew why she was here, and that either her or the gladiator would die tonight, and it was not going to be her.
The Prize Desert Scorpion outside had drawn at least a few appreciative glances and even a nod from Lasier, who had called him "spirited". Of course, he was outside, now, with only a few wanderers outside paying too much mind to the creature.
But the most attention was devoted to the three great treasures that had been brought in.
Atop a stone pillar, lashed to it, infact, was a skeleton, wearing the legendary Red Mask of the Bird of Prey, a genuine artifact, once worn by a renegade doctor who had turned to murder, undeath and crimes unspeakable. Even her elrict powers had failed her when she'd put on the mask, and none had dared touch it since.
From the Bright Republic, atop one of the chrome chairs so popular there, sat a beautiful artificial woman in a bizarre, outlandish, impossible costume. A technopriest had "reactivated" her and asked her to sing, briefly, to prove she worked, and she'd patiently answered questions. Those few rich enough to own Auditory Record devices knew of her, of course: the artificial singer, Claire Durand, beloved by countless fans.
Finally, in an iron cage stood bound, a wondrous creature not seen years - one of the fae, a high ranking noble, no less, who'd committed some crime against Patria so egregious, that they'd agreed to give her up. Though the Fae were virtually unheard of, and never meddled in human affairs, none doubted her once they saw into her impossible features, or saw the red and raw skin that had brushed up against the enhcantediron that no doubt kept her from using her wicked magics upon all present.
And of course, watching it all from the back of the hall was Laiser itself, wearing ornate garments said to be giant spider silk and a steel backed tunic made from leaves spun to steel with fae artiface, perched across a throne, with his most trusted servants at his side. Occasionally, he'd whisper to one some arcane instruction.
In front of him was a great scale large enough to fit a human, sat upon a pedestal of pure gold, and none dared approach it. It seemed to possess a weight that dwarfed the other wonders in the room.
OOC
Most of you may act, all of you are here.
Any noted as slaves may not move from their assigned spot, other than the Scholar, who is permitted some leeway to explore the exhibits. Gara is not technically a slave, she's a guest. Her owner is so distracted with the room that she could probably talk to others. Claire hasn't fully "awakened" yet (she's been off for a while, and the tech priest is messing with her) and so can't activate her combat functions. She's basically in 'be nice for the fans' mode.
There are lots of very, very powerful guards here, and none of your have your powers yet, though Gara is a crazy good fighter.
The only person who can't act at all is The Doctor, who is too busy being dead at the moment.
To make it very clear, starting shit now, before you get your powers, is going to get you a smack down. This is mainly for a bit of interaction before we start.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:25, Mon 08 Oct 2018.