Amidst the predominantly white and cream decor of the Elysian Ballroom this evening, the forbidding mirror-masked figure in deep black stands out like a sore thumb. Apparently nobody told the Softest that the 'come dressed as a literary character' theme did not mean 'scare the willies out of everyone by costuming yourself as a Herald of the Abyss.' Nonetheless, once he begins to speak, his voice - and particularly the warmth of it - is instantly recognizable. "Welcome, everyone, on behalf of the Faith of the Pantheon and the Scholars. Whisper House is deeply honored to host this gala on behalf of Archscholar Oswyn Spencer as the Scholars look to expand their libraries across the Compact, promoting learning and knowledge in a time when it is especially necessary. We are so grateful to you all for attending this evening, and invite you to partake of refreshments before our scheduled events for the evening begin. Archscholar, would you like to say anything?"

2 Navegant Marines, 2 Navegant Sailors, Palwen arrive, following Estil.

Oswyn offers a smile and nods. "Thank you, Softest Cesare," he says. The Archscholar does not look particularly official at the moment; he looks more like an awkward swordsman, maybe. It's a costume-if-you-want-to party so that's probably why he's dressed the way he is. And he can make his voice carry in a lecture hall and he can make his voice carry here as well.

"The Compact has lost so much knowledge over the years. Things we should have remembered, things we should have kept dear to us have drifted away. The Great Archive here in Arx burned, once, damaging our collection. And not everyone can make it here to this great library.

"The library is one of the great benefits of civilization, in my opinion," the Archscholar says, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "It is the enemy of ignorance. It serves enlightenment and enriches us all by bringing knowledge of places far from our own homes. This project will see twelve libraries constructed across the Compact; there will be two from each fealty. The libraries will be accessible to commoners. A Godsworn scholar or Disciple will oversee each branch. We are focusing on remote or newly joined domains in the hope that our history and stories foster make us less strangers to each other and foster unity.

"It is a tall order. We will need considerable funding and resources to make this work, but I believe it will benefit the entirety of the Compact. I hope you think it is a worthy project as well. Please join us to celebrate Vellichor and libraries."

With that, Cesare-as-Onyx brings his hands together in a gentle applause. "Well said, Archscholar. Again - thank you for coming, everyone. Please enjoy yourselves!"

Judge, Kessi, a big-eared, fuzzy fennec fox, 7 House Deepwood Guards arrive, following Samantha.

Legate Bianca did not get the mask memo. Instead, she wears a violet seasilk sheath dress and a tiara of stygian branches, decorated with duskstone and moonbeams. With her albino features and bone-white hair, the Legate looks straight out of a fairytale herself. And here she is to support to the Scholars. There's a small smile, tinged by a note of pride, for Oswyn.

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon has a small hop to their step, even while blindfolded holds a smile as they enter following along and being led, hopefully not into a pillar or wall. A graceful shift to stance and a barely successful grab at a passing tray, nearly knocking over the rest of the drinks upon it, though grabs at one with some noise then shifting part of the blindfold quickly to verify that there's not a slew of drinks now on the floor as he drinks down the wine quickly.

Estil slips inside, distinctly not attired in a costume but in some general summer and swallow-themed finery instead. She does arrive in time for some of the speeches though, settling in with a content expression to listen and view what others might be wearing.

Opting not to don a mask for the event, Samantha slips inside just after the introductory remarks. Someone needs to hire a timekeeper. She makes her way in and exchanges brief and quiet greetings with a few notables as she goes, her attention focused on the Archscholar. As he speaks to the need for this cause, she holds her hands over each other and places them on her heart, smiling broadly.

"The Lady of Twilight Dreams?" Cesare asks the Legate, delighted. "I /almost/ went with her. She's one of my favorites too. But I think she suits you a bit better than me." He lifts his mask a bit as he pours himself a glass of wine, offering one to Bianca as well.

Someone wearing an unnatural vulpine mirrormask splintered by foxfire fissures watches the proceedings quietly from the periphery, waiting for an opportunity. For what, is unclear. But nevertheless, eyes scan the crowd, watching over who can be identified, and who cannot be.

Kiera has entered in time to hear the archscholar speak, nodding her head in agreement throughout and applauding at the end and saying loud enough for her voice to carry as she approaches the onyx-clad figuire " This is room is particularly aptly named tonight for its just how i imagined elysium might look as she draws nearer she has a softer word for the man with a bright smile

Ylaria Wolfheart is in the ballroom! All wolf pelts and linens and leathers as she 'stalks' across the floor. The mask is a clever contraption that keeps her features concealed while allowing her to speak through the open mouth of the wolf's head. She seeks out the Archscholar, offering a wave towards him after the opening announcements. "Archscholar... good evening!"

Aedric Blackshore has attended the gala as Aedric Blackshore, which is not unsurprising given the sailor's generally dour disposition and austere attitude toward polite society. He wears a worn-but-well-maintained breastplate and matching gauntlets, greaves, and sabatons. Attached to his belt is a sheathed longsword. To his credit, he has shaved his face and washed his hair, though already a five o'clock shadow blots his jawline and cheeks. In his hand is his third drink, some nameless and tasteless brown liquor, which he appears to grip like a hunk of lifesaving debris at sea. His cold cerulean gaze surveys the crowd disinterestedly. Internally, of course, he knows he must soon approach Cesare or Oswyn and donate a considerable sum of silver on his family's behalf -- but he isn't ready to. Not now. Not yet. Maybe after the fifth drink.

"Ylaria," says the Archscholar with a smile once she nears, inclining his head to the costumed woman. "At least I'm pretty sure. You did tell me who you were coming as." An attendant presses a glass of wine into Oswyn's hands, and he takes it with his right hand. He's not used to the armor on his left arm, after all. "Interesting mask. How does that even work? Who made it?"

Bianca accepts the offering of wine with a bow of gratitude. The tiara wobbles but holds and the Legate looks up in relief. "It's interpretive," the albino woman tells Cesare, lips shading to humor at the corners. "But if I were, I think I would have to ask you to sample the wine first, lest I meet an untimely end at the hands of a fractal. This is lovely, Softest Whisper. I thank you for your efforts on behalf of the Faith. What gave you the idea?"

Connal, a Northern Wolfhound, Honeymare, 1 Ravenseye Warrior, 3 Sanna House Guards, 2 Northern Rangers arrive, following Rosalind.

"Oh, I can't take credit," Cesare replies with good humor, bowing to Bianca in return. "It was the Archscholar's idea to have us dress as literary figures. I thought it would be charmingly against my usual palette to come as the Thricesworn. I thought we might do a bit of trivia, if the crowd's up for it; I do love trivia, and it's in the spirit of the Scholars, learning something new, sharing information. Purple suits you."

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon has been left alone with a drink in one hand and the other reaching out to where he believes the escort was to be, linking arms with /hopefully/ the right person he follows along while softly talking to the one leading them around the room.

Rosalind comes rushing in, dress be damned! "I'm sorry I'm late! I didn't wear a costume or anything,"the tall Ravesneye calls out with a friendly smile. "But I dressed up, I promised!" Seeing Cesare, Rosa waves. "Hi! This looks really nice!"

Estil idles about a time, not having anyone in particular to yet gravitate to, especially with all the masks in attendance. Instead she busies herself with fetching a glass of wine and a few small treats to pair with it while she considers her next plan of action. Her mental wheels seem to turn as she does, dark brows furrowing just slightly while she takes a sip of red.

"Welcome, Lady Rosalind!" Cesare answers, bowing. "No apologies necessary. You look lovely. The costumes were entirely optional."

"You are correct, and I did give that away," Ylaria lifts an easy shrug and offers a small smile. "Isn't it though? Master Zakhar fashioned it when I told him what I was looking for in a costume." Turning, she shows him where the wood has been carved to form a rudimentary 'hinge' that allows the lower jaw to move, with a small metal plate to keep it from moving too much. "He always comes up with the most clever things." She glances around the room with a smile, "It's a good turnout. What sort of donations are you taking tonight? Silver, resources, both?"

Oswyn leans in to admire the cunning little contraption. "Any," he tells Ylaria cheerfully. "I will take anything people want to give and be very grateful for it." He has a small sip of wine, glancing about. "It's a good turnout?" He smiles broadly. It would make him look twelve, except for the beard. Which is probably why he HAS the beard.

Scylla arrives to the gala wearing no costume, but then she is primarily attending to support the Archscholar's initiative to construct libraries across the Compact. She wastes no time crossing the room to approach Owsyn and speak a few words, though politely waits for an appropriate time to interject his engagement with others in conversation. "Good to see you, again, Archscholar. It seems I was fortunate enough to elude distractions and attend. Thank you, again, and best of luck tonight," she says in a clipped, but no less polite fashion, so that he can get back to his co-hosting duties. It is to Cesare Whisper that her silvery eyes turn upon next. She inclines her head. "I am not certain we've been properly introduced." To either Onyx /or/ the Whisper himself, but the latter is more readily implied. "Baroness Scylla Stormblood," she adds, then says, "Your mask is quite eerie, I like it." The armored baron of Blackshore looms in her periphery and causes her eyes to list in that direction for a brief moment.

Someone wearing an unnatural vulpine mirrormask splintered by foxfire fissures meanders among the crowd, in search of a drink. That accomplished, he takes up a position off to the side, keeping careful attention on the proceedings.

Kiera makes her way over to the archscholar then "Good evening archschlar. may your vision for the libraries be realized as sucessfully as your vision for this evening"

Andre, the messenger who can't even arrives, following Dante.

Kiera is overheard praising Cesare.

"I meant to ask... do we know how much each library will cost? My family and I would like to cover the cost of our library if we can, mobile library too." She turns to look at Kiera, offering a smile, "Evening, my lady. A pleasure to see you." Then she's chuckling to Oswyn, "I think so, yes! It's not so crowded that people can't breathe, but there's plenty here!"

Kiera is overheard praising Oswyn.

Oswyn smiles broadly at Kiera. "Lady Kiera," he says. "Glad you could make it. And I'm not good at planning parties. I just handed it directly over to the Whispers and Softest Cesare made it all happen. I think there are candy quills. I couldn't come up with that in a million years. I am very greatful the Faith has a contract with Whisper House or you'd all be eating sandwiches and drinking tea and the workers at Teaology would be cranky with me." He nods. It would not be nearly as fine a party. To Ylaria, he says, "We're still calculating costs. I will let you know as soon as I am able, I assure you. I wish I had firm numbers, too."

Cesare bows to the Baroness, before straightening. He's probably smiling but it's hard to tell given the mask. "Thank you, Baroness! A pleasure to meet you. I admit I'm re-using the mask, from a Masquerade not long ago, but it is fitting, from what I've heard of this particular figure. Please, enjoy yourself, have some wine, a pastry - the cake is divine, from what I've heard. And yes, there are candy quills."

Rosalind grins. "Thank you!"looks for some familiar faces, spotting Kiera. "Hi Kiera,"she greets with a wave. All these masks you know. "I don't know who's who. Rosa eyes the chocolate fountain with a gasp. "Oh wow! I feel like I need one of these!"

Laughing lightly, Ylaria grins at Oswyn, "Lies. If we left it to you we'd be eating cookies. So many cookies." She gives a small nod and murmurs, "Let me know when you can, and I'll make sure the silver or resources get to you. Now, shall we go say hello to the Legate? She looks amazing in that outfit with the branches."

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon has been passed back from his random new friend back to Kiera, a smile on his face as he stops to listen for a nearby tray. Dropping the glass in the direction of... Glass hits the floor instead as his smile slips from lips and the blindfold is lifted slightly and stares at where the glass landed and where the tray really is. Leaving the blindfold slipped just up a small bit over his right eye a new drink is found and a thousand apologies for the glass is made.

Maskless but with the visor down on his helm, the Marquis clanks into the room in shining full plate with Andre right behind. "I have come to see how Scholars party," he announces to Oswyn in his melodic, deep Lycene accent that sounds a bit hollow coming out of the inside of the tiger-shaped helm first. "Actually, no, I was hoping to hear more about this library project since we're putting one in the Roseward." When Dante spots Biance, he dips his head respectfully. "Legate, a delight to see you again." Unfamiliar with the rest, he dips his head and waits for Andre to introduce him, but unfortunately he's off looking for drinks.

Bianca is comfortably sipping wine and commanding a silence that's her usual gravitas, paired with a tiara. It makes the Legate a touch more ethereal than usual and when she turns to Dante's approach, it's with a gleaming of those duskstones in the crown. "The pleasure is mine. How are you? Looking well protected."

Oswyn winces at the shattering of glass and squints around curiously. He doesn't identify the source, though. "Oh? Branches?" he asks Ylaria. "That sounds marvelous. And I didn't say they wouldn't be cookie sandwiches. A cookie between two other cookies. Three times the cookies gone at once." He nods to Ylaria. And swivels to smile at Dante. "Marquis Dante? So glad you could make it. You did miss my speech but I'm more than happy to reiterate!"

"Well, this /is/ a Whisper House party as well," Cesare-as-Onyx intones from behind the mirrored mask. "So I'm afraid that may temper the situation a bit in our direction. But if you've never been to a proper Whisper House party - well!" He claps his hands together, rings clicking. "Welcome, Marquis. Enjoy yourself. I think we will have some trivia, perhaps, shortly."

Kiera nods to Ylara "What a gorgeous costume. I'm afraid mine is quite lacking, but I had no idea what Dame Sugan looked like" she smiles and waves to Rosa "I did not feel a mask went with armor" She eyes the chocolate "looks absolutelutely sc scrumptious too bad pad putting my mouth underneath would be a serious breach of ettiquette" she winces at the sound of breaking glass

With a pat to her arm, the blindfolded man smiles to Kiera, or just past her. "Ah. There's glass over there." Then taking a sip from his new drink, "Might have been me."

Ylaria offers a smile towards Dante and Bianca, dipping a bow and offering, "I'm Ylaria Wolfheart, at least for tonight. My family is likewise offering up our capital city for one of the libraries. I'm quite excited about it, actually." To Bianca, she adds, "I -love- those branches, they're perfect." The smile turns to Kiera as she nods, "Thank you! All credit to Master Zakhar, I told him what I was looking for and he had it ready for me in a matter of days. He even came up with this mask when I asked for a wolf's skull. Such a clever bit of woodwork!"

Scylla inclines her head respectfully to not-Onyx, then glides away from the evening's hosts to pick and carry off not wine, but a tumbler of rum. It is lifted directly to her lips for a taste test sip and, when satisfied that it is to her liking, she pivots and makes her way across the room to join Aedric at his side. She is wearing an easy smile upon her lips that is disturbed only when they part to accommodate words of greeting. "I see that I'm not the only one who did not get into the costuming spirit, tonight."

Estil eventually spies one familiar enough face among the crowds, weaving around costume-clad partygoers to approach Aedric and offer the man a ghost of a smile, "Good day, Uncle. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Half turning to survey the room, she continues to nurse her glass of wine, soon also inclining her head politely towards Scylla. "It seems to have been a popular Thrax choice indeed."

Bianca smiles to Ylaria, touching delicate fingertips to the stygian branches of the tiara. "It belonged to the late Archscholar Sina. I thought this would be a fitting tribute to her legacy, that she might still watch over the Scholars in some small way. Perhaps she'll inspire my bidding this evening," the Legate adds with a faintly cheeky smile.

Rosalind sees Bianca too and inces toward the woman. There's a big smile on her scarred face now. "Hi Mother Bianca! How are you?! I haven't seen you in a really time! How are you?"

"I'm doing quite fine, Legate. Yes, well...I decided to go on a whim and had no costume or mask, so I thought I'd wear my armor. I am -certain- there are tales of tigers. How could there not be?" Dante laughs, raising his diamondplate gauntlets and clicking the claws together. "I, alas, was not prepared. I suppose I should keep something on hand to counter my arbitrary and impulsive spirit," he muses then nods eagerly at Oswyn. "If you wouldn't mind, Archscholar. I would quite like to hear it." A grin is flashed towards Ylaria, "Oh how wonderful! I am very excited about it as well. We're actually building a shrine to Jayus and Gloria too, so this will be perfect to complete the Triad of the Arts for the Roseward." His gaze lands on Scylla and Estil next, squinting a bit like he -might- recognize them, but probably in that way most nobles -kind- of know one another from some function or another.

After polishing off the last of his fourth drink, Aedric surrenders the glass to a passing attendant and marches in the direction of the gala's hosts. En route, Scylla is intercepted and dragged unceremoniously back to the entryway, albeit only temporarily. "Thank you, again, for your continued dedication to the recollection of lost knowledge. Education, and access to information, is a cornerstone to a functional and civilized society. I understand that your organization will inevitably require funding to meet its ends. As such, I hope you find this donation sufficient," the baron says, recognizing that words may go unheard in light of the number of guests conversing in such close proximity. He surrenders a bank note to Oswyn, offers a respectful dip of his chin, and then retreats with the Baroness of Tresova to a quieter, and more private, locale. "I'm not creative," he tells the woman, tone and words sincere. "So I wore what I wear to -- well, everything." At this moment, the pair is approached by a face not unfamiliar but certainly unexpected. "Estil," the sailor murmurs, offering a small smile. "I thought your family had locked themselves away on Escuma. Welcome back to the mainland. This is Baroness Scylla Stormblood," he continues, gesturing to the woman at his side. "She is my intended."

Kiera nods to Ylara "He is quite the master craftsman from what I hear. Your tiara is indeed lovely cousin. We should speak soon about issues over which we have joint concern

Oswyn bows slightly forward at the waist when he's pointed toward Bianca. "Legate," he greets. "Very lovely dress and great tiara, too. I've never thought of getting one. I don't think I have the face for it. You and Archscholar Sina, though..." Oh wow that's a lot of people. The Archscholar squints and attempts to keep up. And is handed a bank note; he glances at it and smiles at Aedric. "Thank you so much," he tells the Baron. "It's very appreciated." The bank note is tucked away somewhere - the snug pants have pockets - and Aedric is slipping off before he can say much else. Still, the Archscholar is smiling cheerfully. Also where was he? Speech. TO Dante, he says, "I went with armor, too. I'm supposed to be Levin, the ghostly swordsman from the Forgotten Library series. Let's see... speech. Ah... the Compact has lost so much knowledge over the years - things we should have remembered, things we should have kept dear to us. The Great Archive in Arx burned, once, damaging our collection. Libraries are one of the great benefits of civilization. They are the enemies of ignorance. They bring enlightenment and fellowship. We'll be constructing twelve new libraries across the Compact, two per fealty and focusing on remote or newly joined domains. Which is why I'm so pleased to be able to build one in Roseward."

Cadern slips his way in to the gala with a faint smile. The northern lord letting his gaze wander around the room as he catches up a glass to drink and meanders. Catching the bit of Oswyns talk he smiles and encourages with a light clap, "Here Here."

Scylla surrenders to being dragged back to the men she had only parted from moments ago with only the faintest sigh of playful resignation to show for the directional change. She adopts a passive posture beside Aedric as he makes his sentiments known and delivers his donation, her silver-hued eyes lifting to rest upon his face with an expression akin to unfettered affection. Once the moment has passed and they've returned to their respite in a quiet corner of the ballroom, she turns to respond to Aedric's lack of creativity with a dry, "You and I have that in common." Before she can add to it, an unfamiliar woman approaches and names Aedric her uncle. Umber brows lift with a modicum of surprise, though it is a short-lived expression, and her eyes glint with interest. "Lady Estil, a pleasure to meet you." The glass of rum in her hand is held carefully upright while she very informally curtsies toward her betrothed's niece. "How long has it been since you've been away from Arx? Perhaps we must have passed one another at some point but never met. We will have to invite you over to dine soon so that I can get to know you better, seeing as how we will be family in the near future."

"Cadern,"Rosa calls out, waving from a chocolate fountain. Because--chocolate. "You didn't wear a costume either? Good. I can't ell who's who around here,"going to find a drink.

Arman enters the gala with a languid grace, the soft tapping of his cane leading the way. His eyes alight over the varied guests masked and unmasked before the Velenosa Prince dips his head generally to room and wanders off in search of a drink.

"I was hoping to see at least one Salacious Baker tonight but.. there will be other opportunities!" Ylaria laments briefly before smiling again to Bianca, nodding. "You certainly do it justice." To Dante she chuckles, "I will probably be seeing if we can't get some of the Physician's Guild's free clinics out into our lands as well. We have many smaller and more remote villages where travel is difficult for the aged or infirm. So having better access to care would be a boon for our people." Then she's falling back and falling quiet to just watch the room with that faint smile.

Cesare brings his hands together once more. "May I have your attention?" he says brightly. "I'd like to introduce the items we have up for auction this evening. First we have a donation from the Archscholar's collection of rare books, the Atlas of the Northlands, an exhaustive and beautiful work fit for any explorer. Second: I am pleased to introduce the third volume of the Forgotten Library series, presented today along with the first two books as a complete set of the trilogy! Third, we have a personal account of Princess Lark Grayson's time in the Twilight Court, graciously donated by the Princess herself, and last but /certainly/ not least, the Archscholar has personally volunteered some of his time and knowledge to privately meet with a donor. We have apprentices standing by to take your bids!"

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features puts Forgotten Library, Volume I - Beginnings by Alariel Sommers in a spacious wine rack with glass panel cabinet doors.

Bianca smiles to Rosalind softly. "It's good to see you again, and looking well. No dangers on the horizon, I hope?" And to Oswyn, the Legate adds, "I'll will it to you, Archscholar. It would be fitting. And I think you could certainly pull off the look." It's delivered so deadpan it's hard to tell if Bianca is teasing.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features puts Forgotten Library, Volume III - Murder Masquerade by Alariel Sommers in a spacious wine rack with glass panel cabinet doors.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features puts Forgotten Library, Volume II - The Hidden Temple by Alariel Sommers in a spacious wine rack with glass panel cabinet doors.

Someone wearing an unnaturally reflective mask of flawless, eerily blank features puts Atlas of the Northlands in a spacious wine rack with glass panel cabinet doors.

"Oh uh....always,"Rosa confesses Bianca a bit sheepishly. "But I mean, it's okay. It's fine. Have you bit on anything,"she asks.

Oswyn squints at Bianca. Suspiciously.

Estil lets her dark hazel eyes drift betwen Aedric and Scylla a moment as she considers both, head canting to one side in a thoughtful sort of expression, "A few years now, I think. Certainly it is a busy place... though I don't think I heard that news. You are to be married, then? My congratulations to you both."

"A Salacious Baker would have been quite the humorous surprise. Or what's that one about the Baron? I can't remember now, but that would have been rather amusing too," Dante confides with a wide grin to Ylaria. "Ah yes. That's a good idea. Right now the Lodge is tending to some of our medical needs and trained medics the rest but we could use a devoted clinic," he says, concurring. "Given that the March is in a fairly hostile area. But," continues the Marquis to Oswyn, "I agree about the library. I think that having one in our rather rough around the edges domain with its many prodigals would be very helpful. Plus anything that the Volkov may have had was destroyed with everything else when they were."

Cadern glances up and over to Rosalind, "I didnt think to do more. ah.. what is..." he trails off lookinh at the chocolate with amusement. he then glances to Bianca and gives a bow and smiles, "Hello there, Legate its good to see you out enjoying."

Arman murmurs some words to the auction attendants then having found a suitable drink picks it up with a flourish before waking his way lazily to a table.

Arman has joined the Round guest table draped in lace and silk.

"I was kind of hoping for a Salacious Baker, too," Oswyn admits to Dante. "The Baron is the one with the pastries, I think. Scones?" He nods. He's pretty sure it's scones. "I do edit the Forgotten Library books and I like the third one! No Levin, though."

"I should have tried to get a Salacious Baker," Cesare murmurs woefully. "If I hadn't been so busy with - everything." He clears his throat.

Oswyn calls back, "There are copies at the archive! I put them there personally."

Standing around with a helmet on for no reason is getting a little warm for Dante, he pulls it off and takes a gasp of fresh air. "I think I need to write some kind of exciting fiction series about the adventures of a dashing Lycene knight. Not based off of anyone in real life, of course," he muses to Oswyn with a sideways glance.

Estil toys with her half-empty wine glass, standing near Scylla and Aedric still, though the announcement regarding the auctions does draw her attention. She doesn't move to yet join those bidding, but she does appear to find observing it interesting enough.

Archimedes, the Grim Face of Owlish Judgement, Sir Alren, Scholar Duran, a perpetually put-upon assistant, 5 Templar Knight guards, Clementine leave, following Bianca.

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon has a curl of a smile to something whispered to him, as he turns towards those calling out bids for the items. Then 'looking' as best as a tilted blindfold will allow. "Would you care for a dance?"

Kiera offers to her opal masked companion "Come lets join rosa by the fountain"

Kiera is overheard praising Ivy.

"Thank you. As for costumes -- yes, it would seem that Thrax, of all the great houses, struggles most with attending galas in the appropriate attire. Truthfully, I haven't a creative bone in my body. If I did, I'd lack the sense, or means, of seeing the concept made manifest," Aedric confesses, raising a gauntlet to scratch thoughtfully beneath his chin. "Fortunately, I came only to make a donation on behalf of Blackshore. We only recently lost our cherished library and understand uniquely how staggering the destruction of centralized archives can be. I wish the Scholars all the best on their mission to see their collection expanded and restored." The sailor shifts his attention to Oswyn and the masked Whisper. They appear to be soliciting bids on something of significance. "I haven't any more silver on my person, else I would be happy to make another contribution. Do you still read, Estil? I recall vaguely you being fond of old texts and weathered maps." His left arm, perhaps unconsciously, slowly snakes itself about the Baroness' waist.

Kiera is overheard praising Bianca.

Kiera is overheard praising Rosalind.

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon has joined the a marble fountain flowing with rich chocolate.

Kiera is overheard praising Scylla.

Kiera is overheard praising Aedric.

Kiera is overheard praising Samantha.

"You should," Oswyn tells Dante. "I'd read them. I'm sure others would, too." And someone mentions the chocolate fountain and Oswyn perks up. "Oh, they brought out the chocolate fountain? I requested it. I accidentally attended an event here once and the chocolate fountain was wonderful."

Kiera is overheard praising Estil.

Kiera is overheard praising Dante.

Kiera is overheard praising Arman.

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon follows Kiera towards the chocolate fountain, as best as he can. Reaching an hand out to try his best not to walk /into/ the fountain and gets a handful of the liquid goodness. A silly smile on his lips, as the dripping, gooey, chocolate is brought to his lips leaving a mess of chocolate to run over the rose leather he wears. While licking at his fingers, and probably talking to the fountain. "Hello. Lovely evening."

"Thank you all so much for your generosity," Cesare calls out to those bidding. "Now! While I have you all and you're not too drunk - of /course/ the chocolate fountain, Archscholar, it was specifically requested, and there are bits to dip in, as well, biscuits and fruit and cheese - while I have you all! Trivia! This will be much more informal. Simply raise your hand and call out your answer if you know it!"

Clearing his throat. "This Archlector is known for a canticle recording the deeds of King Alaric III, notably /before/ it occurred."

Rosalind grins at Kiera. Then the person in the fire opal ribbon. She murmurms quietly. "I think you DIP stuff in it. I think."

"A chocolate fountain? Clearly I've not been to a Whisper party in some time, I didn't know that was something which existed," Dante muses, taking a look at the interesting contraption. At least he was until the person in the fire opal ribbon shoves his -hand- right into it and licks it off his fingers, causing the Marquis to cringe away in horror. "Well, I'll not be bothering with that," he murmurs, nodding quickly at Rosalind and Kiera. "I think so, at least I hope so."

Estil gives Aedric a small nod of confirmation before launching into an explanation, "Ah, I do still enjoy that, yes. That's part of why I'm here today, I am among the Scholars and hoped to see them do well with their fundraising. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to prepare a costume, even though i had a great many ideas. History is still my favorite subject, but I don't have much current knowledge of good tailors in the city, unfortunately."

Merek is dressed in his fine dark attire, while he walks along into the ballroom, taking the time to find a place to settle in and relax at the moment.

Oswyn beams in Cesare'd direction. Chocolate fountain! He clutches his wine glass and says, "Oh. I don't think I know the answer to this one. Interesting! Er. What's wrong with the chocolate fountain?" The Archscholar squints in that direction. Apparently, he missed the ribboned person shoving their hand in.

Finding an opportunity to plug his favorite tailor, Dante addresses Estil with a clawed gauntlet raised in her direction. "Messere Sira does excellent work, Lady Estil. I highly recommend her. What kind of history, by the way? I find history quite interesting, do a lot of digging in it myself. I'm not a Scholar, however."

"Anyone?" Cesare asks, eyebrows raised. Perhaps it is not the right crowd for trivia! In which case, Cesare will probably allow them to continue besmirching the chocolate fountain. "It is heated, Marquis, I wouldn't be too afraid about anything."

Kiera blusshes horribly "the scent of chocolate and rose mingle nicely togeter. A new perfume perhaps, i think" She reaches for one of the petit fours and lets chocolate drizzle over

"Which Archlector was it?" Oswyn calls out after a sip of wine. He's heading toward the chocolate fountain, too, having figured out where it is.

"Father Alessandro Rubino, Archlector of Jayus, author of the Canticle of the Long Vigil," Cesare replies to Oswyn with amusement. Let them at the chocolate fountain. He knows when he's been beaten.

Scylla listens to Aedric and Estil with interest, though she remains silent, at least until the point that the latter voices her lacking knowledge of good tailors. "Guildmistress Caprice Artiglio is a master tailor. Her shop is the Silken Symphony, in the Lyceum Ward, if you are interested in taking a look or speaking with her. She's incredibly kind and knowledgeable. Alternatively, you can keep an eye on advertisements posted up around the city when shops restock with new clothing items and jewelry. They do so quite often."

Someone wearing a wide fire opal ribbon turns his head, chocolate covering his lips in a large smile as the chocolate that is not licked off of his fingers finds its way to be smeared across the leathers worn. "It's very sweet, but what else is there to dip into it. My fingers are sticky now."

Estil shifts her gaze to regard Dante, turning over the name he provides a touch thoughtfully, "Sira? I shall have to look into that, thank you." Gazing into the claret liquid in her glass, she pauses before offering her answer, "I find all history quite fascinating, but recently my interests have me focusing on the era of the first human king and Alaricius in particular. It's an interesting time, but a challenging one to research." Lifting her eyes back up, she studies the man, "If I may, what are you interested in?"

A nod also finds Scylla at her recommendation, "I was hoping to get some new garments, more in line with some day-to-day Thrax fashion. I have a lot of colorful party dresses, more than anything."

Rosalind realizes the time and blinks. "I need to get home." She waves, grinning as she starts to dart off. "This was a lot of fun! Thank you,"and runs off.

Kiera hollers over "I did not know the answer to that softest before puting an array of fruits and cookies and such on a plate and letting chocolate drizzle over the lot

Connal, a Northern Wolfhound, Honeymare, 1 Ravenseye Warrior, 3 Sanna House Guards, 2 Northern Rangers leave, following Rosalind.

"Archlector Alessandro Rubino," Oswyn repeats. He has to use his armored arm to pluck up a strawberry to carefully dip into the stream of chocolate. Praise the chocolate fountain. Praise people with clean fingers. "Good to know. All I know about him is that he was considered a gifted seer, along with the Lady of Twilight Dreams."

Arman has left the Round guest table draped in lace and silk.

"Yes, Guildmaster Caprice is also quite excellent, although I think she's not taking commissions very often. However, certainly worth checking with her in case she is or will be soon." Confirming Scylla's advice with a nod of agreement towards Estil, "Either way you cannot go wrong. Unfortunately, all of the other tailors I used to know seem to have gone on vacation, vanished, or died when I was off taking care of the March for quite some time," he explains with a sigh, shrugging his diamondplate armored shoulders with a metallic clink. "Ah! Yes, that is a rather obscure time period of study. I have looked into some around that time, a lot of the early Lyceum mostly. Some other...things," he says with a vagueness. "Especially in the neighboring Oathlands."

Arman makes a few more auction bids then quietly excuses himself from the gala.

As the festivities continue into the night, the fountain continues to flow, as do the bids. The Softest makes himself a relative fly on the wall, slipping about the party to speak to attendees and overseeing everything to ensure it runs smoothly, thanking each of the bidders and those who took the time to come.