Private - Where The Water Tastes Like Wine

He lived.

The Lion’s Pride Alpha still walked amongst mortal men. Emil Trevelyan wasn’t sure how the Aristocracy felt about that. After all, they had sent him and a few others to assassinate the man and that assassination attempt had obviously failed. No one from the shady criminal-esque organization had reached out to him to touch base or bring him in for questioning, so one could hope that perhaps they would allow this little slip up to be lost to the annals of history. He doubted it, but that was what optimism was for, right?

The mage, nevertheless, had reason to celebrate for he, too, lived. He had not be dragged to the stockade nor had anyone come hunting for his head, so Emil counted that a win. Sure, he would play the dummy if anyone came questioning, but no one had and thus the faux noble believed himself free. He smiled to himself as the thought skittered across his brain. He had attempted, and failed, but remained free. That was certainly something to be glad for.

But, Emil was no an idiot. The city was not the place for him. Who knew if some ruffian got wind of the story and decided to question each and every member individually to see who poisoned their dearly beloved leader. So, Emil had left. A carriage set to Finweald, a city on the edge of Astorea, sounded like the best place to lay low. He hadn’t heard of the damned place until he had asked the carriage driver where he was bound to.

A day in the city had proven dull and lifeless, but there was a gala this evening where many of the local politicians would be rubbing elbows and dropping gold into various pockets for various favors. It was a masked event, all the better for someone in Emil’s current position and with a few honeyed words – and golden coins – he had acquired himself an invite. If anything, it would make for good practice in removing various coin purses from people too enamored with each other to notice.

Tux and mask in place, Emil blended in with many of the faces that twirled and waltzed and conversed in the main hall of the manor. He stapled a polite smile to his face as he made his introductions, kissing hands and shaking hands as they were presented. It wasn’t long into the night before he found himself out in the back of the manor, the manicured garden holding a single other person looking out over its splendor.

Pardon, I did not notice there was another person here, Emil murmured, drink in one hand, the other hanging limply by his side. He made no move to leave, however, and instead walked forward, approaching them. I hope you do not mind the company. Sometimes a breath of fresh air does wonders for the muscles in your cheeks.

Hidden: The Manor

@Karr Hawkesridge @Madison Freebird ​

 

She looked the part, with her flowing black dress, black lace gloves, black hair done up in nice little lotus-styled buns while the rest settled messily as it was wont to do. A nice silver mask rimmed with fake diamonds attached firmly to her face, held in place by an elastic band hidden under locks of hair. Another anonymous soul flitting about the mansion, making small talk with others and promising to catch up later--promises that died as soon as they left the lips of their speakers.

Getting into the soiree, on the other hand? That was a hassle. It took a huge chunk of her savings to secure someone else's invitation.

The gold, and a quick 24-hour curse. Makes no sense to go to a party if you're going every ten minutes. Eventually people would complain about the smell and the screams of agony and the constant requests for a healer/exorcist.

Not that it mattered anyway; Maddy made her money back three-fold playing cards against other party-goers within the first hour.

Which is also why she currently found herself away from the party.

The evening breeze was cold and refreshing. A brilliant moon hung in the cloudless sky overhead, casting an ethereal glow on the picturesque garden that spread out before her. The chirping of crickets, the flicking of cards, and the occasional muttered curse mingled with the dull roar of the party that rolled on without her.

The witch's hands moved like lightning as they cut the cards over and over. Something to occupy her, keep her busy while she waited for the heat on her to die down. Maddy didn't want to run afoul of that fat guy with the sweat stains and ruffled shirt again.

One of the cards slid out of her spidery hands, fluttering to the ground. "Gods ffff--" Madison began as she knelt down to pick it up. The curse died before she could finish it.

A door softly clicked shut behind her. Madison snatched the card and rose from the ground, turning to find a thin man with dark hair to match his tuxedo approaching her on the patio, apologizing for the intrusion and commenting on the night air--as strangers are wont to do.

"Yeah, no; you're fine," Madison casually remarked as she motioned to the empty space next to her. She slid the deck back into its tuck case and hid it in her dress sleeves. As the well-dressed man pulled up beside her, she turned her gaze towards the mansion's impressive, immaculate garden.

A sigh escaped the witch's lips. Awkward silences were always bad, but forcing conversation was the absolute worst. "You as bored by this party as I am?"

 

Getting into the party was far easier than he'd actually expected. All he'd had to do was see an invitation and then cast an illusion over a piece of paper to create his own, totally accurate invitation. By the time the illusion wore off, the party would be long over anyway, so he really had nothing to worry about. Still, he'd heard some super big names would be turning up here and his few underworld connections told him that something would be going down here, though what that was he had no clue.

But even as gifted as he was, even Karr got sick of shaking hands and acting polite to everybody inside, behind the large helmet-like mask he'd brought instead of a simple masquerade mask. He hated those stupid small things, this one would serve him much better. It was a good thing that his usual clothes and cloak were good enough to serve as formal wear too.

He sighed, stepping out into the evening air, even if it didn't quite reach his face and his hair beneath his mask, though he seemed to not be the only one that had stepped away for a moment. Two figures stood outside alongside him, one of whom was fairly familiar. Huh, Madison was here. Cool. She hadn't seen this mask before, had she? Maybe she'd recognize the cloak? Either way, he wasn't going to draw attention to himself quite so suddenly.

"Oh don't mind me you two." He waved a hand, shrugging. "I won't listen in. Just wanted a breath of fresh air."

 

Bored is an understatement, Emil replied with a chuckle before taking a sip of wine from his flute. It was the color of gold and the topmost of the glass shimmered in the low light that basked them. He thought he had overheard one of the servers mentioning something about the flutes being encrusted with jewels around the rim, but it sounded far too outlandish to be true.

Their politics are not as…robust as the main city of Astorea, but there are a few names here to keep a close eye on. Today’s mayor could own a seat on Astor’s council in a fortnight. The male gave a shrug of his shoulders, the material of his tux shifting quietly over his frame. Never underestimate money nor ambition…

His single good eye travelled back towards the door that he had come through, only to witness another person meandering through it. A frown made the corners of his mouth dip, but he did nothing more than incline his head in greeting and lift the flute of wine in what would be considered a toast. After all, the voice whom had called out had male intonations and Emil was vastly more interested in the female company to his side.

Emil Trevelyan, he said by way of introduction, his hand thrust forward in preparation for a shake. His voice had lifted an decibel so that the other male could hear the introduction. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in chatting with Emil and Madison, but Emil wasn’t above introducing himself to both of them.

His attention swung toward the other masked individual and another polite smile crossed his mouth. May we assume that you, also, are bored from the party favors being passed back and forth between these patrons, friend?​

 

Madison regarded the well-dressed man who approached her. Handsome enough, with a groomed head of hair and his one good eye twinkling in the moonlight. His free hand was extended in greeting. The briar witch took it up.

"Madison Freebird," she replied, a warm smile on her face to match his own.

Emil Trevelyan. The name sounded awfully familiar to her. She couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd come across it before.

She turned back out towards the garden, taking in the sights as she spoke. "To be honest with you, I have zero interest in most of the discussion taking place inside. Never was much for politics, myself. I mean, it's just a bunch of puppets tugging each other's strings, yeah?" Madison grinned as she motioned towards her empty plate. "I'm only here for the h'ors d'oeuvres."

The deck of cards stashed up her sleeve chafed against her forearm as she leaned against the stone railing of the patio. "A couple scholar friends of mine invited me as their fifth wheel or whatever," she lied. "But there's only so many drunken debates on the morality of Gormond and Buchanan's research methods before you just need to step out for a minute and get some air."

It was a line of bullshit that worked on several other of the attendees, one that they never asked the woman in black to expand on once they found out their blackjack dealer was a nerd. Emil didn't need to know about how she swindled a bunch of rich folks out of their money, and was more or less put in time-out. So the less anyone asked, the better off she'd feel about the night.

The extra weight of cash in her pockets certainly helped, either way.

Madison noticed that a third person had joined them outside, away from the noise of the party. She recognized the mask--the two of them did a bit of adventuring when he was new, taking on a job from a merchant's guild to find the goblins that ambushed one of their caravans.

"Karr," she said with a quick nod his way.

 

Oh, well never mind, he had been recognized. He hadn't quite expected Madison to recognize him, but this was fine, he supposed. It wasn't like he disliked the woman or anything like that, even if she'd seemed to have a slight adversity to him and that other one that had joined her on that quest, the inconsequential dog boy who had never even heard of a shirt before. James or whatever his name was, Karr honestly hadn't even bothered to remember it, he'd cared so little. He only remembered Madison because she was the one that had put out the offer for work in the first place.

But hey, at least it wasn't somebody that would be hostile upon sight. There were a few people that would fit that kind of description pretty well, so it'd been a definite possibility. He shrugged, leaning on the nearest wall he could find with his arms crossed and one foot pressed flat against the wall, shaking his head. It was ridiculous how childish some of the adults in there were capable of being, constantly being passively aggressive towards each other, trying to one up one another.

"You heard the lady. I'm Karr, professional mystery man." He chuckled, indicating to his mask. He rarely took it off, even outside of events and battles and the like. He quite liked the ability to keep his actual appearance a secret, even if he could always give himself instant makeovers with illusion magic. It was always better not to have to waste energy just to be able to walk around freely, if he ever did end up in legal trouble.

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty sick of their childish games and passive aggression. I'd been hoping to make some good, important friends, but nobody important really showed up." As far as he'd learned, anyway. He wouldn't exactly class Madison as being important, after all. She was just some player, same as him. "What brought you here, Emil?"

 

…The cheese and crackers have been absolutely to die for.

The lack of inflection within Emil’s tone was a subtle hint that belied his inability to take Madison seriously. If she didn’t want to disclose what she was doing here, Emil wasn’t going to force her, but outright lying like that…and with such a shitty lie at that. He wasn’t stupid and the sooner the beautifully clad female opposite him realized that, the better.

Still, his smile remained polite and his demeanor endured its gentlemanly aura. While listening to her speak, Emil rolled her name around on the rear of his tongue, tasting the letters and trying to remember from where he once heard it. He couldn’t place it and though he was able to mask his annoyance at this fact, it did make him view her under a tighter scrutiny. Somewhere in his past, he had crossed this woman’s path. He would assume it was positive considering all the negative shit in his life liked to bubble to the forefront of his thought process whenever it wanted him to dwell on it.

A change of scenery my dear Karr, Emil said with an extravagant wave of his free arm, indicating the garden beyond the manor. The windows in the back of the manor twinkled against the dark blue sky where tiny stars shimmered within the heavens. Cool though it was, the night was otherwise glorious, and Emil inhaled a breath of that cold night air to emphasize his point. There’s something about these back-alley towns that calls to me. Maybe it’s the simplicity of its people or the ease in which you can grease hands and elbows, but Astorea was growing quite boring if I’m honest.

The mage opened his mouth to say something more, maybe to wax on about seizing opportunities or making the best out of bad situations, but the door from which they had all come through suddenly opened and a coifed head appeared peeking out. There were glasses upon his face and a rose tint to his cheeks under a beautiful gold and black feathered mask.

“Pardon,” the servant said with a bow of his head. “The Master of the Manor requests that all guests report to the main ballroom at once. There has been…a disturbance. If you would please follow me?”

And he swung the door open and stood off to the side, his black tux and white gloves haloed in the warm orange light that bled from the inside of the manor.

A single eyebrow arched in the servant’s direction. A disturbance? Color him intrigued, though cautious, Emil took a sip of his wine and cleared his throat before pinning Madison with the full weight of his golden gaze. A slow smile curved his lips and he bowed his head toward her.

Ladies first, of course. What kind of gentlemen would Karr and I be otherwise?​

 

Madison felt a certain level of scrutiny under Emil's gaze as she walked back towards the house. Something about that one golden eye staring her down, and that stupid sly grin on his face... She'd love nothing more than to tear his pretty mouth off his face and jam it into his visible eye. Even if it wasn't really physically possible.

She'd figure out a way to make it happen, though. Maybe a quick mutilating curse to re-arrange his features a bit, drag his mouth up to his eyelid or something.

Her Black Magic had only gotten stronger lately. It was probably possible.

As the witch stepped through the door back into the mansion, she could only sense the overwhelming unease that permeated through the room. Everyone who attended the masquerade was gathered in the living room, several dozen people with the color drained from their faces, skin as pale and porcelain as the masks they wore.

What the hell happened, Maddy thought to herself as she slowly made her way to a corner. Bracing herself against the wall, she subconsciously reached for her deck of cards. She slid the deck out from her sleeve, and began cutting it over and over as she observed everyone else.

Something was clearly wrong here. When she left the party, everyone was rather jovial, their enjoyment nudged along by the wines and liquors that were served. But now, everyone was just so... morose.

A door opened, and the lord of the manor emerged, flanked by a handful of others. He too was pale and twitchy, perhaps more so than the others. Beads of sweat covered his head as he wove a path through the masqueraders, his silver hair slicked back over his head. His lips were pursed, hidden behind a thick busy beard. His tuxedo was a bit too tight for his waistline, but that was the least of his worries that night.

Everyone quit murmuring to one another when he brought a gloved hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out for the longest time.

It was only after one of his entourage leaned in close and whispered something into his ear that Maddy couldn't make out that he finally spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice worn and weary. "As you have been made aware by my staff, something horrible has happened."

Some jackass weakly spoke up. "Are we out of gin?" He was immediately slapped upside the head by a woman in a red sequined dress, presumably both ten years his junior and his date for the night.

The host paid no attention to him, clearly not in the mood to entertain dumb jokes or dumb asses. Instead, his steely gaze met every single person in the room, searching for... something? But what--?

Madison didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"There has been a murder," the old man said flatly, working hard to keep his voice from cracking.

 

The immediate reply to the startling news was a wave of murmurs from the crowd. Women lifted their fancy fans to their faces, turned to their dates for the night and whispered in hush tones behind them. Men shoved their hands into their pockets, glanced from one another with startled, wide eyes and generally shifted uncomfortably in their shiny shoes. Emil, away from the masses, lifted an eyebrow and barely managed to keep the smirk from his mouth. The night just got interesting.

Emil watched as the jowls of the Manor’s Master began to quiver. The murder was obviously upsetting him, but he steeled himself, cleared his throat and exhaled through his nostrils. His pale skin was moist and even from his distance away, the wizard could make out a few droplets that wept down his temples. He lifted a finger to his upper lip and wiped, clearing away the sweat that had gathered there.

“Please, everyone, remain calm,” he said, his watery blue eyes glancing over his guests and not seeing them as individuals anymore. To him, each of them could have been the murderer. No one could be trusted. “We will be putting the estate on lockdown in order to conduct an investigation.” More murmuring met these words, but there was no outright cry of indignation.

Emil didn’t expect there to be. This was supposed to be a high-class party, full of people with political connections and money to spare. However, Emil also recognized that this was a game and as soon as that thought peeked forth from the grey matter of his brain, the quest log in the corner of his HUD – previously empty of contracts – suddenly flashed to life.

Find the murderer. Optional: turn him in to the Master of the Manor OR help him escape.

Interesting, Emil whispered. The Master was saying something again, but the Magus wasn’t listening. He, instead, swept across the ballroom to where Madison had gone, his gait quick, his features soft though determined. He stopped within an arm’s reach of her and gave a nod.

Miss Freebird. Apparently, we have been sucked into a narrative of sorts. How would you feel about finding Karr and attempting to finish this story together? ​