As the party arrives at the Keep, they are brought to the formal ballroom, a place the had not seen to date.   There is music, dancing, fine foods and drinks.  The guests are a whose who of Stormhaven, with the heads of every guild, many of the wealthiest merchants, those of high families, and still others of note.  Skilled artists, playwrights, and other socially interesting persons.  But, it is not all the upper crust, the nine young girls recently rescued and their families are there, along with ordinary soldiers who are off duty, it is truly a mix of the peoples of Stormhaven.

It is a festive mood. And the heroes recently returned from the Island are in great demand as never before.

Saliq enters Stormhaven Keep dressed in his finest robes and turban, his beard freshly barbered, perfumed in rose water and shaped per the style of the royal house of Al Alayai Herat. He carries his spellbook of course, and his wand, ring and dagger, less because he feels he will have need of them than that he fears risking them.Despite his finery Saliq enters alone, with no companion save his adventuring ones and there is a grave look to his face even when he smiles.

Rath arrives at the celebration with a professional shave and haircut and a fine new outfit, vaguely militaristic — straps and belts and epaulets —mostly grey and black, as recommended by a fine tailor. Rath, of course, can’t tell if it’s old-fashioned, fashionable, or ridiculous-looking. He wears his holy pendants and the amulet from the other world, and he caries his coins of light and dark in his breast pocket.  In lieu of the trident, he carries a brand-new, servicable bastard sword strapped over one shoulder.

Like a character from an old tale, Marissa entered the ballroom adorned in a dress uniform seemingly fit for a commodore, its hues the dark colors of her house.

She projects an air of confidence undimmed by her mother's presence at her side, her hand comfortably resting upon the hilt of her saber. Of her spear there is no sign, but she figured this was a party, not an invasion, so she left the weapon in the House armory.

She looked around, spied Saliq first, then Rath, and smiled at the latter's look of discomfort. The mage is the nearer; she excuses herself from the patroness of House Ehridol and, drawing near, offered Saliq a nod. Noting the lines of worry that belied his smile, she quietly said, "You have news, it seems. Is it pressing, or can it wait for a more private occasion. And...should I be worried?"

Saliq looks surprised, raising dark eyebrows. "No actually, no new news. Just still recovering from ordeal. It took a lot of me."

A ghost of a smile passes across his lips and he looks a little more relaxed. "The uniform suits you my friend. It was an honour sailing under your flag. Do you plan a new voyage?"

Flattered in spite of herself, Marissa offers him a brilliant smile.

"No," she replied. "I think I'll wait until I have a better sense of how things will turn out here before committing myself to another venture. You lot have become like kin to me, in many ways. I would not abandon you if there's another challenge to face."

Rath acknowledges Musfara and Ehridol from across the room, but he doesn't approach them immediately. He's saving that maneuver for an emergency, but so far, it seems, that the party-goers are content to leave him be with polite greetings and nothing more. Maybe they don't recognize me. Let Avandra keep it that way..

He hovered near the tables. Rath had tried a number of beverages, most too fancy for his tastes, but he found something strong and pleasant that he decided to indulge slowly through the length of the evening. Regarding food, he's less particular.

Rath keeps his eyes open for Eoinsson. It doesn't surprise him that the ranger has not made an appearance yet. It wouldn't surprise Rath if Inas evaded the celebration entirely.

Eventually, he gets the courage up to approach a few of the young girls and their families. With no idea what to say, he simply introduces himself. "Good evening. Sorry to intrude. My name is Aldo Rathmus. Oh, hell. Only my mama calls me that. Rath. I'm Rath."

Inas appears.  He has done his best to dress appropriately for the occasion, but he is not accustomed to formal functions and thus may not have quite hit the mark.

He appears to be wearing leather armor.  It exhibits quality craftsmanship and is rather new-looking, but ordinary leather armor all the same.  Covering the armor is a hooded leather cloak.  It, too, appears new – at least, it is not the one he normally wears on missions.  Still, it is rather ordinary in appearance.  As usual for Inas, the hood is over his head and covering his face – at least most of it.  Perhaps it is the cut or style of this particular garment as compared to the one he normally wears, but a little more of Inas’ face is exposed, and the exposed portion appears to be less scarred than normal.  Still, much of his face remains hidden from view.

Upon entering, the ranger quickly scans the room; his face is sufficiently exposed that an obvious look of panic can be discerned.  He quickly wraps the cloak about him, covering more of the armor and obscuring the proof that he has come to the party armed with his sword and dagger.  Obviously uncomfortable and self-conscious, he grabs a drink and resolutely (and quickly) gravitates to a wall at what he perceives to be the back of the room where he watches the festivities and tries to remain unnoticed.

In reply to Marissa Ehridol (msg # 5):

"Oh well said. Here is to adventure." Saliq smiles. "Anyway I suppose we best mingle among the great and good. This is in our honour after all."

Saliq moves over to the tables to investigate the food and drink. If he makes no effort to talk to anyone in particular neither does he shun conversation.

As Saliq makes his hasty departure, Marissa notes Inas struggling in unfamiliar territory. With a sigh at her companions' lack of social graces, she makes a bee-line to Inas and asks him in an amused tone, "Would you like to dance, Inas?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 11:39, Sat 02 Dec 2017.

Perhaps Folke came a little late because he was nervous about returning to a society that had known him a generation ago, but may have forgotten him completely since.  Perhaps it had just taken him more time than the others to make ready for such a public gathering.  Or perhaps it was the showman in him, for didn't all feature acts show up just a little bit later than advertised?

Regardless of the reason Folke made his entrance after the rest but without apology, as thought it were a natural thing.  He was resplendent in deep green and black garments, with highlights of glinting gold cloth.  His boots were soft black leather and his harp case was in its customary position over his shoulder, although it appeared to have been freshly oiled.  There was no sign of his spear or bow, and only a jewelled dirk sat at his hip.  His hair had been washed and hung loosely down his back, with one brain on either side of his face trailing down in front of his slightly curved ears.

He took in the assembled revellers from the entranceway and smiled, remembering fondly similar gatherings from his past.  This was the other side of Folke, the social side where he magically spun their travails into lyrical poetry that enthralled ordinary people.  But that would come a bit later, he was sure.  For now a drink, some food and some conversation with friends old and new alike.  And so to start he headed towards Marissa, who he'd spied in her vaguely naval finery, and a figure he guessed was Inas based on the complete lack of finery on his person.

"Am I interrupting?" he said when he arrived, as it seemed the two might be in a private conversation.

Inas quickly (and figuratively) chokes out "No."  After a pause -- and perhaps realizing his abruptness (or the horrified look on his face) -- he adds: "I . . . am fine.  You should, though, and I'm sure there are many here who would be glad for the chance.  In fact,"




Upon Folke's arrival, Inas brightens somewhat.  "No Folke, in fact, Marissa was just saying that she would really like to dance, and you're just the person for the job."

Inas then turns his head slightly and takes a drink, as if to punctuate the end of the conversation.

No, not at all, Master Bard," Marissa said with a mischievous grin. "As a matter of fact, I was just asking Inas to dance when you arrived. He let me down graciously, I am sorry to say."