Elegant music played by a live orchestra wafted through the air of the a large and immaculate ballroom. Within the room there were chairs lining the walls save for in two places: where the tables of food were, and where the two glass doors leading out into the garden were. On the upper floor of the room there sat a balcony where a single red throne seated within it. Atop the throne sat a woman with a cold stare in her ruby colored eyes, deep brown tresses falling in waves about her rather dainty frame even as large black horns protruded from the sides of her skull.

She stared down at the empty ballroom floor with a look of contemplation before finally calling out to one of her servants. "Were the invites sent to the others?" The demoness asked as the servant made his way to her side.

"Yes, madam. Everyone was notified and said that they would be here. They are aware of the importance of this meeting." The servant responded to her, his body bowed low, eyes averted.

Silently, the Kaelmorhn waved the male demon off, her mind wandering to the Church, and their recently advancing numbers. Admittedly, she wasn't sure how long it would be until they knocked at her doorstep. She knew she had to prepare for war. She could not be left to sit on her laurels, and neither could the other houses.

@yoshua171@Volenvradica@Arista

While some guests of more minor standing arrived through the doors that allowed entrance into the grand ballroom, one figure, waiting for the crowd to distract, simply appeared. Swirling blue eyes, black hair with flecks of silver and gold throughout, and a strange robe of greys and blacks. The pigments of the garment seemed to writhe and shift subtly despite the figures lack of movement. Head turning slowly while other figures took brief notice of his arrival, the man observed those who had arrived so far--his position leaving him out of sight to the Kaelmorhn.

While some who did not know him may have thought him a spy, those who would know at least the rumors of his identity--such as the Kaelmorhn's guards--would be aware that he was very much where he ought to be despite the fact that he stood out like a sore thumb. His strange swirling eyes narrowing as he frowned at the congregation of people, the Magewright of the Sovereign City-State of Eaihsvaryhn released the tiniest wave of energies down through and over his garments, shifting them from dull grays to dark blues with stirring gold and purple lines that ran along in simple, but elegant, patterns.

He then moved, walking into the crowd, who parted around him, some gasping at his change in garb, others having better knowledge as to his identity and disposition thus knowing that they ought stay clear of his path. However, one poor soul who had recognized him, a baron who he'd crossed paths with before, did not move aside as he strode forth.

Stopping eight feet in front of the baron, the Magewright's normally stirring eyes, became piercing, the colors within them seeming to freeze as he glared through the baron's skull. "Ah, Baron Taehse, I've got someone to speak with, if you would please move aside," stated the mage, a smile on his lips, though his eyes could have pierced stone.

The baron neither moved nor responded, his gaze hard and unyielding "I'll not be moving out of your way Magewright." He spat the last word out, his spittle nearly striking the mage. Taking in a deep breath, barely managing to retain his composure, and the false smile he wore, Mordiir bowed slightly to the baron, and then attempted to walk around him. The baron however, had no intention to allow him to pass, and so stepped into his path once more. Abruptly, Mordiir stopped moving, and met the man's eyes, his smile fading swiftly.

Closing the several feet between them, Mordiir leaned in close to the baron, so his lips were inches from the man's ear. "Move, Taehse, or I will make it so you can never stand again," he whispered to the man, before withdrawing, and then promptly walking around him. The baron stood motionless, barely hiding an expression of shock.

After several moments, those attendees who had arrived returned to their conversations, some now gossiping about the Magewright and what he might have said to the Baron. Mordiir ignored them and continued his approach to the stairs that led up to the balcony. He had a conversation to broach with the Kaelmorhn.

The Kaelmorhn shifted in her throne, her muscles tight. Most would be unaware of the apprehension that resided in her, but those that knew her on a more personal level, such as the other faction heads, and her servants would know that she was anticipating something.

She could feel it in her bones.

However, just as her thoughts were about to devour her, there was a disturbance within the ballroom. People seemed to be parting around another individual. This caused the demoness to pay more attention to the group of people on the floor below her, attempting to find the individual for which droves were moving. When she caught sight of him, it was only because another person had gotten in his way. For a moment, the Kaelmorhn regarded the two men before her ruby eyes fell upon the male garbed in deep blue robes whom she regarded with an auspicious smile.

The Magewright had answered her summons.

It seemed as though the individual who had stopped in the mage's path did not intend to move. The demoness couldn't help but find herself chuckling at the spectacle. Her enhanced senses allowed her to hear the conversation which had passed between the two for a few moments, causing a full blown laugh to escape her throat.

Tonight might just end up being enjoyable after all.

An obvious look of intrigue on her face, the woman signaled for her guards to let the Magewright ascend the stairs. "Mordiir. It's been a while, has it not? How have you been, dearest Magewright?" The Kaelmorhn's voice was soft, body facing the male as he entered the balcony. Her head was tilted as she regarded him, a warm smile residing on her lips.

Soon the others would be arriving as well. She could only hope that their entrances would be as eventful as Mordiir's had been. That would serve for a good deal of amusement, as well as help her not to focus on the people who intended her kin harm.



Click. Clack. Click. The sound of high heels connecting with the polished granite flooring echoed through the nearly empty hallway just outside of the ballroom's intimidating mahogany double doors. The two servants tasked with standing outside the doors watched with confused and worried expressions as a woman of average height paced back and forth in front of the doors. She was clearly upset about something, muttering to herself incoherently. Frankly, it was unsettling.

The two servants exchanged a pleading look before one of them finally spoke. "Ah, ma'am? Is there something we can do for you?" The anxious male voice halted the woman almost immediately, causing her to turn and face him. Chestnut tresses draped over her shoulders, bangs shadowing her eyes in the dim light of the hall. At first, she simply seemed to stare at him, which seemed to unnerve him more because he couldn't make out the expression she was wearing.

After several heartbeats of silence, a smile broke through her mask, and a pale hand slowly moved up from her side to brush her bangs out of her eyes. Striking purple orbs greeted the two servants as she glanced at them both for a few moments each. For the second time in less than an hour, the two men exchanged glances, eyes wide. They didn't know why, but they had an intense urge to run as far and as fast as they could.

Then, as if pitying the fear-filled thoughts that had begun to plague their minds, the woman let out a gentle--seemingly sorrowful--sigh. "Mm. I'm unsure if you can help or not, gentlemen." The purple-eyed woman paused, her hands clasping behind her back as she leaned her torso toward the men, head inclined slightly to the side. "You see, I'm looking for someone."

"Are they attending the event, madam? Perhaps if you give us a name we could see if they're here for you..." The second servant swallowed the lump in his throat before he managed to speak, though his voice was still shaky even then. Why were they so afraid? It was just a woman. A small, nearly 5'1" woman who didn't seem to be very imposing visually. In fact, if the servant had allowed himself to see her more clearly, he would've been greeted by the soft round flesh of cleavage that was visible due to her posture.

The woman's ample bosom aside, she was clearly there for a reason, and the men needed to figure out what it was. However, just as the first servant was about to speak in order to inquire further on what she needed, the woman smiled a wide tooth-filled grin. It was in that moment that she allowed the identifier of her species to be visible.

Long, sharp cuspids gleamed a bright white beneath the soft pink of her lips.

She was a vampire.

"Mm.. I'm not sure if they're here yet..." She finally responded to the servant who had asked her if they could check the event for the person whom she was looking for. "But, their name is Naevine. The Lord Naevine." The woman spoke the name with a soft, almost lighthearted chuckle.

The servants, however, were flabbergasted. This woman knew the lord Naevine? How?

It was the first servant who spoke up this time, "Well, ma'am, if you'll wait but a moment I'll go in a see if the lord is here. If he isn't would you like to wait here until he arrives, or would you prefer to enter the ballroom?"

The woman nodded in response, "I'll wait inside the ballroom if you wouldn't mind."

After hearing her answer, the first servant slipped into the ballroom, catching the tail-end of the spectacle that the Magewright had caused. As the mage and his master began to converse, the servant set about making his inquiry throughout the room. When he came up empty, a sigh left his lips and returned to the hall where the woman waited silently with his partner. "Unfortunately, I was unable to find the lord, ma'am. If you'd be so kind as to give me your name so that I can come and get you should he arrive and enter through this door." The servant's voice was timid as he spoke, his hand reaching out toward one of the door's handles.

Before he opened it, the vampire responded with a coy grin, "Valla. Valla Craestiir." As she spoke her last name, the door was fully opened, and she found herself on the other side of the threshold, surrounded by throngs of people of all races and walks of life. She couldn't help but smile.

Tonight would be interesting.

---

Walking towards the guards and ascending the stairs as if they were not there at all, something he would have done even if the Kaelmorhn had not given the signal, the Magewright stepped onto the balcony, facing the Queen of the Demons, as it were. "It has been some time, yes," he responded curtly, eyes giving her a once over, expression annoyed and serious as per the usual before he looked away and observed the crowd below. It was more as if he had taken stock of her, rather than taken in her form, as if uninterested in her...charms.

After all, unlike most who would be intimidated, or caught in the allure of the demoness, Mordiir was utterly unaffected, or at least appeared to be. "I have been...decent, though as usual my city could be better." He glanced in her direction, "As it will be in the days to come." His eyes turned to the crowd once more.

After a moment he spoke again.

"We are well fortified against this new...threat, if you can call it that." He made a face of displeasure at the thought of their enemy, the church. He hoped none of their sort had been invited to the ball, though he hoped even more that they would not arrive uninvited. Granted, hope meant little to him, pessimistic as he was.

"What of you and yours Aldrai?" His body turned half-way towards her, his strange, almost alien, swirling blue eyes meeting her brilliant red ones. As usual, it seemed he had little time, or patience, for pleasantries.

---

A small frown creasing her brow as she sat at the edge of the ballroom, on one of the few chairs that had been set out and away from the tables, Arrynei drummed her fingers on her thigh, the soft fabric of her white and gold dress rustling slightly each time she shifted her legs.

Why had he done that, she wondered, why did he always cause such a fuss? He had so many enemies, so many people who were afraid of him, but why? He was compassionate and intelligent. He cared for others more than he likely did himself, and yet...all he showed to the world through his attitude was rudeness and irritability.

Her eyes darting to the entrance to the ballroom, Arryn found her frown deepening as she noted just who had arrived. Valla Craestiir, she thought, a hand rising to brush a strand of hair from her face even as she swallowed and rose to her feet, worry in her chest.

Cross the ballroom to intercept the woman, people parted for her, though they did not give her a wide berth such as they had the Magewright. Some of the men smiled at her and bowed, while the women either marveled at her, or glanced briefly, looks of jealousy in their eyes. Then, before she came into Valla's direct line of sight, she took a deep breath and steeled her nerves, donning a genial smile before exiting the crowd and approaching the woman.

"Valla," she said, her smile welcoming, eyes appearing surprised, "You were invited too?! It's been some time has it not?" Her hands reached out to take one of Valla's in between them, the action a gesture of friendliness, meant to be harmless.

She hoped the woman wouldn't realize that she was trying to keep her attention off of Mordiir. If she was not successful, this ball might quickly become less of a party and more of a disaster....