The Carousal Gambit - 28.8.24 - Dee'arna
Aug 29, 2024 16:30:10 GMT
Andy D, Yinmaris, and 5 more like this
Post by ruthcd on Aug 29, 2024 16:30:10 GMT
Notes from Dee’arna’s diary, the morning after the events of The Carousel Gambit, also referencing Talon’s Out.
The ball at Arthiar manor was not exactly what I had expected, but I am coming to realise that nothing in Daring Heights ever is.
Zaspar gave his friends - Beets, Luxemforth and myself, the role of managing guests in groups across the evening. I had never been to a party for this class of people before, but quickly ascertained that it was much like an academic conference - a delicate balance of boasting, gatekeeping, flirting, and bitter rivalries, all hidden behind a veneer of formal language.
The air tasted like secrets, and it was delight to watch them be swapped and stolen in beautiful surroundings.
However, Zaspar’s lack of subtlety seems to have given me a bite of poison I am not immune to - unwanted attention. Recently, we helped Pyrin find the location of a large vampiric coffin in a Hekrati storehouse on behalf of another group of criminals, the Di Florias.
In the midst of the mission falling apart and swords being swung, I was forced to pretend that Zaspar and Finnegan were some kind of mad artistic set; that Zaspar’s blunt requests for a coffin, followed by striding into the backroom, were part of a performance piece; and I, their manager, was trying to manage their wild temperaments. It might have convinced the shopkeeper in the moment, but they were bound to report it all back to someone with a little more sense, once my Suggestion had worn off. Including my description.
So there I was at the ball, speaking with a disconcerting yet stunning woman, Robin Merryfair. And she tells me that she’s heard of me, and not from my archaeology exploits. She said there are some people who are angry with me. There was an undeniable threat, masked by a false stutter.
Later on in the soiree, I spoke to one we called The Masked Stranger, and he also warned me against Robin and spoke of an ‘ancient rivalry’. (He turned out to be a fiend, so that’s an interesting context).
If I have pulled the lines of inference correctly from my various conversations, and consider the knowledge Kem kindly shared with me yesterday about the other guests, the conclusion is that she is either some kind of unholy creature from the Hekrati side, (another vampire?) or, at best, a demon-worshipper. Splendid. I will be increasing the traps over my door. And asking Kem exactly what kind of monsters I can expect to be persuing me. May time and trickery keep me safe.
And then of course, it doesn’t help that the sexiest woman at the ball, Nalaeryn, turned out to be the Seventh Watcher, of the cult of the One and Many. How fortunate that Yinmaris had shared the story to understand some of that conversation. But then even more disappointingly, she didn’t see our presumed common interest in knowledge and secrets as the foundations for a possible friendship. Nor any deference to being its 'champion'. Instead she ominously talked about watching me. To be expected I guess.
At the end of a night like that I had hoped to receive a kiss, ideally something more. At least the Masked Stranger appreciated the artful minimalism of my outfit. But it’s clear one downside of curses and adventures in this city is going to be romantic frustration. Enemies draw in.
And talking of failed romance... the event had been declared a success by Zaspar’s overbearing father, but just when it seemed like we could celebrate a job well done, we had another surprise.
At the start of the evening, when Beets had seemed sad about having to play a host-like role rather than just chat with her mentee, I had said that at least she would be able to comfort Zaspar over a proposal rejection at the end of the night. Or, on the bizarre off-chance his gambit worked, maybe congratulate him on success. They would have time together regardless. How little did I know that Beets was hoping for a secret, third option.
After all Zaspar’s proposals, the tables were turned and Beets got down on one knee. She gave a lovely speech but Zaspar turned him down - citing the scary prospect of even more parties like this in her future as Zaspar's spouse. It was a little awkward, and Beets decided the time had come to depart and go to bed. I hope that this is has not left their relationship harmed for the future. But at least I can say, they both seem like cheerful types on the whole and likely to recover from this incident.
Unfortunately by the time I turned around to look back at the ballroom, the Masked Stranger had done what he promised and faded into the night too. Shame he never even gave me his name.
The ball at Arthiar manor was not exactly what I had expected, but I am coming to realise that nothing in Daring Heights ever is.
Zaspar gave his friends - Beets, Luxemforth and myself, the role of managing guests in groups across the evening. I had never been to a party for this class of people before, but quickly ascertained that it was much like an academic conference - a delicate balance of boasting, gatekeeping, flirting, and bitter rivalries, all hidden behind a veneer of formal language.
The air tasted like secrets, and it was delight to watch them be swapped and stolen in beautiful surroundings.
However, Zaspar’s lack of subtlety seems to have given me a bite of poison I am not immune to - unwanted attention. Recently, we helped Pyrin find the location of a large vampiric coffin in a Hekrati storehouse on behalf of another group of criminals, the Di Florias.
In the midst of the mission falling apart and swords being swung, I was forced to pretend that Zaspar and Finnegan were some kind of mad artistic set; that Zaspar’s blunt requests for a coffin, followed by striding into the backroom, were part of a performance piece; and I, their manager, was trying to manage their wild temperaments. It might have convinced the shopkeeper in the moment, but they were bound to report it all back to someone with a little more sense, once my Suggestion had worn off. Including my description.
So there I was at the ball, speaking with a disconcerting yet stunning woman, Robin Merryfair. And she tells me that she’s heard of me, and not from my archaeology exploits. She said there are some people who are angry with me. There was an undeniable threat, masked by a false stutter.
Later on in the soiree, I spoke to one we called The Masked Stranger, and he also warned me against Robin and spoke of an ‘ancient rivalry’. (He turned out to be a fiend, so that’s an interesting context).
If I have pulled the lines of inference correctly from my various conversations, and consider the knowledge Kem kindly shared with me yesterday about the other guests, the conclusion is that she is either some kind of unholy creature from the Hekrati side, (another vampire?) or, at best, a demon-worshipper. Splendid. I will be increasing the traps over my door. And asking Kem exactly what kind of monsters I can expect to be persuing me. May time and trickery keep me safe.
And then of course, it doesn’t help that the sexiest woman at the ball, Nalaeryn, turned out to be the Seventh Watcher, of the cult of the One and Many. How fortunate that Yinmaris had shared the story to understand some of that conversation. But then even more disappointingly, she didn’t see our presumed common interest in knowledge and secrets as the foundations for a possible friendship. Nor any deference to being its 'champion'. Instead she ominously talked about watching me. To be expected I guess.
At the end of a night like that I had hoped to receive a kiss, ideally something more. At least the Masked Stranger appreciated the artful minimalism of my outfit. But it’s clear one downside of curses and adventures in this city is going to be romantic frustration. Enemies draw in.
And talking of failed romance... the event had been declared a success by Zaspar’s overbearing father, but just when it seemed like we could celebrate a job well done, we had another surprise.
At the start of the evening, when Beets had seemed sad about having to play a host-like role rather than just chat with her mentee, I had said that at least she would be able to comfort Zaspar over a proposal rejection at the end of the night. Or, on the bizarre off-chance his gambit worked, maybe congratulate him on success. They would have time together regardless. How little did I know that Beets was hoping for a secret, third option.
After all Zaspar’s proposals, the tables were turned and Beets got down on one knee. She gave a lovely speech but Zaspar turned him down - citing the scary prospect of even more parties like this in her future as Zaspar's spouse. It was a little awkward, and Beets decided the time had come to depart and go to bed. I hope that this is has not left their relationship harmed for the future. But at least I can say, they both seem like cheerful types on the whole and likely to recover from this incident.
Unfortunately by the time I turned around to look back at the ballroom, the Masked Stranger had done what he promised and faded into the night too. Shame he never even gave me his name.