Everything happened so quickly, one minute hebwas picked up by a half dragon man, he thought at least. Didn't have time to thank him as an android had greeted him "Hello!" barely escaped out of his mouth before he was grabbed by that crazy guy who greeted him at the door. Next he was sat upon the crazy man's shoulders, this is the highest he's ever been before and once again the surroundingd had changed right before his eyes. He thought this amazing. Gumbo poked the man's top hat "This place is just fantastic! Is it possible to stay her forever?!" he said as he tapped he top hat as if it were a drum.

L'Arc picks up a mug and swallows the contents before slamming the mug back onto the counter. "Let us begin then. Grogg! More drinks!" L'Arc picked up another mug and began drinking from it. "By the Council, I need another."

Assallya had no idea what the small black and white animal was and she was about to say as such when the flightless bird was snatched away. She then watched as the small group went back to drinking. Assallya wasn't much for drinking. There were more pleasant means with which to pass the time or at least, so she opined. Though, she had determined one thing, that nobody here seemed to have any more of a clue as to the nature of this place as she did.

"Is not anyone concerned with how this place came to be or what it might cost one to partake of its many pleasures?" she whispered in conspiratorial fashion. "What if this be fey in nature? If so partaking this ale could mean one might never enjoy any other ale ever again. One thing I know. Nothing in my experience has ever been 'free'."

The elven woman grimaced as the world "bent" around her, shapes elongating and swirling with the fluidity of oil being applied to a great canvas. The small, tavern grew before her eyes, its volume expanding by leaps and bounds until it resolved into something palatial. She had never seen such a hall. True, there were great halls of smooth white marble where she had come but this place was "warmer". The oaken accents, rich carpets and great candelabras were reminiscent of the northern realms though of much finer workmanship.

Then she peered down at the gown that had been fitted with. At first she attempted to disbelieve, to dispel the illusion. Nothing, of course, happened. She was, she discovered attired in some form of strange garb. It seemed like a skirt but was much wider, as if there were something ballooning it out, making her legs invisible beneath a giant sphere of fabric. The material was strange though, oddly appealing to her, black lace slipping across her form from numerous vents and slashes in her ball gown. She also had something of a collar but it was nearly eight inches tall and ornate. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see sparkling stars against the interior of the collar. Then there was something, a golden headdress with some sort of veil, or at least she assumed it was so. It was currently up at the moment, tucked away but she could lower it to shadow her face.

Mind you, what this really did to her was frighten her immensely. A being of such power could likely wipe her from existence, possibly even consume her soul. She had heard of such creatures in the deep depths of the dreaming, veritable gods that could create at will that made even the archdukes of the nine hells cautious.

"Why would one need shoes in order to dance?" Assallya answered, completely bewildered as she looked herself over.

Dranik started and came too. He had blacked out briefly from too many drinks, as he usually did. However, it did not last as long this time as it usually did. "Must be this amazing place..." Dranik looked at the odd clothing he was wearing and gasped. "My helmet!" He reached up and felt that his copper-detailed helmet still rested upon his head, and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked around at what used to be a homely pub, which had been once again replaced. The floors were now a polished white, with an unknown material forming the walls. A giant chandelier hung in the middle of the room, greatly lighting the room. Dranik had heard stories from other planets where rooms like this were common, and also used to dance in. The dwarf looked to L'Arc and tossed him a sack of gold. "I believe I lost the bet, and I honor my bets." He then looked to the penguin and held out a hand. "My small friend, would you like to dance?"

L'Arc caught the sack of gold, "Much obliged." He stared at his new surroundings. Well then that certainly changes things. He ignored the goblins and the mask and hollered. "Sin, do we have an cards? I feel like gambling."

Die Kill Die, the stubble faced rugged looking man that he was, stepped through the entrance of the strange pub. Only it didn't stay a pub long. After being greeted by the strange suited man, Die was suddenly wearing a suit himself. "Hey wait a minute....the is dennys!" Die realized, having walked through the strange red door without even thinking. He had been wandering through his own weird ass dimension when he had decided on waffles for lunch. Not but an hour and several distracted detours, Die found what he thought was a Dennys. But apparently it was this crazy bar.

A masquerade, Assallya had heard of such things in lavish lands amongst the jaded gentry. She'd never been in such lands however. She'd heard that the masks allowed the lords and ladies to engage in activities one might not dare pursue in public, impromptu liaisons, the spreading of pernicious, slanderous rumours, and all manner of sordid political maneuvers.

Taking the mad god's hand for fear of what he might do should she the audacity to refuse Assallya allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Shoes? She was wearing shoes of some sort. She had tried them on a pair once and hadn't liked the experience. The first few decades of her life she had never once worn them. They weren't necessary in a marble palace strewn with luxurious carpets and rugs. She'd worn sandals in the past but of late she'd resorted to a ring of magic that protected her feet as if she wore heavy boots.

Peering away from Sin for a moment she reached out for silver platter of masks being proffered and chose one that, at first glance, appeared to be a unicorn. It was a white face, a lady's face that was caricatured horrifically in a permanent rictus of pain and shock. That which she thought to be a horn was instead what appeared to be a golden dagger that had been wrought in such a way that it looked as if it was lodged within the forehead.

"I too will take part in this, sir Sin." The black robot nodded at L'Arc. He had played card games against humans many times and it turned out to be an enjoyable form of human entertainment, at least, for him.

Gumbo looked down at the tuxedo that he suddenly appeared to be wearing, it fit perfectly. He'd never worn anything like this before, actually he's never worn anything. He jumped off Sin's shoulders onto the floor, then turned his body towards Dranik.

The little penguin flapped his flippers around excitedly "I'd love to dance with you!" he said as giggled with excitement.

Assallya, surprisingly wasn't a good dancer. At least, not in a tandem sense. She'd been taught a wide variety of dances but they had been singular affairs, more intended for the entertainment of others while they ate or to stoke their ardor. She, however, was catching on quickly. Several quick corrections kept her feet out from underneath Sin's and prevented them from tumbling across the floor. Then, with growing confidence, her slender legs began moving of their own accord, hips swaying to the movement. This, of course, provided more difficulty as she hadn't been taught that in the culture of ball room dancing, a woman's place was to follow a man's lead.

"So said the fox to the chicken," Assallya replied in response to her host's statement, using a rather quaint colloquial northerner's phrase she'd picked up in her travels.

Then came the twirl. She hadn't been expecting that, nor the dip that followed nor the prosthetic fangs. She almost wailed in outright terror, the sound only dying as she remember that, with his power, he could likely slay her with a single thought. Her fear was further quenched when his wide grin revealed the rim of the plastic insert, revealing the fangs to be false. Pressing her black painted finger nails against her bosom, she told herself to be stop breathing so heavily.

"So... you're supposed to be one of the Weyr people?" she asked, "one of those that turns into a beast, a weyrwolf?"

Dranik began to spin around the penguin and started to 'dance'. However, never having been part of the high society and therefore never been invited to any form of ball, didn't know how to properly dance. The dwarf kicked, spun, and flailed, enjoying himself. Soon he began to regain control of himself and stopped threatening everyone around him with his 'dancing'. He carried on in this manner for a few minutes before finally stopping to ask for another mead.

L'Arc smiled and pondered, What to play first? This was going to be fun. He walked around, looking at the various games to play. Most he had seen before, others not the least. He sat down at a blackjack table.

Factorio flowed L'Arc to the blackjack table. Not his favourite game, but he didn't dislike it. Sitting down at a seat, he looked around at the other players. A...Falcon man. He looked sly. A skeleton? Wow. That was unusual.

Then again, he was surrounded with space dwarves, elves and half dragons. This wasn't new in this regard.

"I apologize, my dear...Little..,Man." Factorio looked at him. "Hello there. What do you need, sir?" He asked, tapping the table with his metallic, black fingers. The pounding on his legs didn't bother him. It was all steel. In fact, it probably hurt the impish little guy instead. "You may want to stop hitting me, sir. You might make your hands bleed."