Masquerade Part 1

Dusk groaned as she pulled the shimmering blue dress up over her hips. She slid her arms through the gauzy sleeves and reached back to do up the zipper that was just out of reach. After a few attempts, she managed to grab a hold of the delicate zipper to pull her dress closed. It wasn’t often that she got to dress up for an event like this, but she did enjoy the beautiful fabrics she had to choose from. She spotted her silver mask resting on her dresser and she smiled gently. Perhaps tonight wouldn’t be so bad. Only a few hours of her best behavior and then she would be rewarded with some of the finest food and wine the country had to offer. She hoped they had the Merlot from last year's Masquerade. She couldn’t shake the bad feelings from the recent hearings she had been attending at the request of Adrastos, the head of the Temple. Her trip to the Underdark had been confusing and she knew there was something being hidden from the Acolytes. She felt uneasy with the knowledge she had uncovered down in the dark realm below. She twisted her ring of Selune on her finger and sent up a prayer for comfort and protection. The ring was simple, a pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars, but she felt closer to her Goddess when she kept it close. Dusk would need all the help she could get this evening.

There really wasn’t much to worry about, if she really thought about it. There were incredible appetizers and as much alcohol as she could tolerate. The conversation was always lively as well. She shook her head and smiled. Perhaps she could even find someone interesting to dance with as well. She placed a glittering tiara gently atop her perfectly curled tresses and studied herself in the mirror. She was a star, as always. She knew that Adrastos would be looking for her to be a shining example and she wouldn’t disappoint. There had been some rumors swirling about and she didn’t like the sound of them. She had been in and out of several inquiries the last few days and she was exhausted. It seemed like Adrastos was suspicious of her for something, and she was sure it had to do with their recent research trip. Things weren’t the same after she returned from the Underdark. The surprising visit from her brother, Dawn, was no small event either. She hadn’t seen him in nearly 75 years. She was so happy to see him and she hoped she could see him again soon.

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Wycliffe studied himself in the mirror. He couldn’t believe that he would be attending a masquerade ball, and at the Temple of another Deity on top of it all. He said his apologies to Hoar and hoped he would not mind the minor intrusion of another faith. He straightened his tie as he thought about who might be in attendance that could pose a challenge to him. He didn’t figure his father would be there, as religious gatherings were not really his style, but there could be some of his father’s friends that he would do well to avoid. He knew he swore to stay out of his father’s way, but this job had to be done. He glanced down at his mask, resting on the table. It was in a similar style to what the woman he would be meeting this evening would wear. It was a sparkling silver filigree mask that covered his entire face such as the Bauta style masks that were popular amongst those attempting to conceal their identity. It almost felt like the armored helmet he wore on occasion, and he carried that thought with him. This outfit, in a way, would be his armor this evening. Wycliffe smoothed down the front lapels of his velvet suit jacket, cringing at the garish attire his client had instructed him to wear. He knew he would fit in though. His usual attire would not do for this evening. He felt lost without his Glaive at his side, but he knew it was being watched over and protected for when he returned. He smoothed down his tie one last time before slipping the mask over his face and meeting the coach that would take him to the Temple.

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Dusk decided she would make herself indispensable to the Church so there was no way they could get rid of her. She lifted her mask to her face. It was an exquisite piece made custom for her, and it sparkled with delicate silver stars and lacey filigree. She tied the ribbon laces behind her head and tilted her head, studying her expression in the mirror. She quickly pulled her heels on and strode towards her door. The click of her heels echoed down the halls, slightly muffled by her extravagant dress, and Dusk could already hear the distant sound of music and conversation down below. She steeled herself before moving into the grand ballroom, the lights glittering, and everyone dressed in their finery. She smiled politely and bowed at several dignitaries as she moved about the room, in search of any alcohol she could get her hands on. She found a waitress flitting about the room and she took a chalice of bubbly champagne. As she turned, she accidentally bumped into a gentleman dressed in a deep red, velvet suit. Her glass fell to the ground and shattered at his feet.

“My apologies!” Dusk cried out as she bent down, her posh accent lilting.

“Nein!” He cried out, reaching out. “Don’t touch zee broken glass…” The man spoke with an accent as well and Dusk was surprised to hear him so concerned about the broken glass and not her bumping into him or spilling it. Most of the higher class visitors would have had her head for a simple spill. She was sure now that she was shaken by the recent events. She normally wasn’t so clumsy.

Dusk chuckled nervously and looked up at the man, wearing a similar silver filigree mask. He was fairly tall, although still shorter than her, especially in heels. He had dusty brown hair and deep brown eyes that peeked out from under his mask. He did not look threatening, per se, but there was a scowl on his face that seemed to be a constant expression for him. She had not seen him around before, but she assumed he was just another visiting dignitary. “It is fine, see?” Dusk waved her hand around the broken shards and as a light sparkle gathered around the pieces, they melded together once again.“It’s not quite perfect, and all the liquid is gone, but it should do the trick.” She stood up tall and held up the glass so that the man could see that it had been mended.

“Zat is ein interesting trick.” He mused. “Still, I am sorry zat I made you lose your drink. Let me get you anozer to make up for it.” He smiled gently at her and bowed slightly.

Dusk was glad that the mask and her makeup covered her blush. “Ah, thank you sir. That is kind of you, although I should be apologizing for bumping into you. Are you alright?”

The stranger had already flagged down the waitstaff and had exchanged the empty glass for two new drinks. This drink was a light pink color and Dusk recalled that it was likely a nice Rose they had last year as well. She accepted it gratefully and smiled at the man. “Think nozing of it.” He stated calmly. “It vas mein own clumsiness zat caused zee accident.” He took a sip of the drink and looked around, studying the room.

Dusk took a moment to really study the individual in front of her. He seemed uncomfortable in the setting and he stood tall, almost like a soldier awaiting a command. He looked well kept, but there was a sadness in his eyes. A certain pain not unlike what she had seen in Dawn a few nights prior. The man made her think of her twin, who had been sent off to become a soldier by their parents. She was sent to the Temple around the same time and she had been here ever since. She had lost contact with Dawn in that time, however. She realized she had been staring at the man for far longer than she had meant to and she took a sip before clearing her throat gently.

“I don’t believe I ever caught your name, sir.” She said gently.

“Ah, zat vould be because I never gave it.” He looked around and Dusk thought she detected a hint of nervousness in his features. He looked back to the elven woman in front of him and his brown eyes locked with her lavender eyes. “Wycliffe.” He held a hand out. Dusk took it and shook it gently.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wycliffe. I am Dusk, High Cleric of the Temple of Selune. Have you been to her Temple before?”

Wycliffe tilted his head slightly. “Ja, I haffe heard of you...Da-“ He coughed, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I only meant zat you haffe done some incredible zings. People speak highly of you.” He looked away for a moment, embarrassed. “I haffe not been here before, but it is beautiful.”

Dusk admired the beautiful ballroom they stood in. “Yes, it really is. I am lucky to be able to serve such an incredible Deity such as Selune. My life has been very fulfilled here. In fact, I recently came back from the Underdark on a research mission and it was very fruitful. I have much more to study now than I did before.” She took a long sip of her drink before returning her gaze to Wycliffe. “So, what brings you here?”

Wycliffe took a sip of the pink liquid before raising his eyebrows and thinking for a moment. “I am, vell, I am here at zee request of a...friend.”

Dusk looked surprised and her own brows lifted. “Is that so? Any friend I might know? Did they send you to find out some information or check into the Temple? Or...you are someone’s date?” She asked before rushing to add, “I’m sorry, I should have presumed that you were here with someone.” She looked about the room for someone in matching colors.

“Oh nein!” Wycliffe responded quickly. “Nein, it is just me. Apologies. I am not vell accustomed to zeze kinds of events.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Dusk smiled graciously. “Ah, I see. They are difficult to get used to. There is so much finery and pomp and circumstance. It’s really not too scary though. The food is to die for as well.” She realized how much she had been talking and she began to excuse herself. “I did not mean to take up so much of your time...there must be plenty of other people you came here to see. Enjoy the danc-“ She was mid curtsy as Wycliffe placed a hand lightly at her elbow.

“Nein, Miss, I am here to zee you. It is lucky indeed zat ve ran into each ozer.” He muttered under his breath, “Quite literally.” He attempted a smile but mostly looked nervous still. “Mein friend sent me to check in on you. He believed you might need some assistance, if you’re villing to accept it…” He spoke quietly, and his eyes darted about the room.

Dusk’s demeanor changed and she was on edge. She spoke in a harsh whisper, “Axsa ick'neos.” She cursed. “Listen, I don’t know who put you up to this, but I really must be going.” A spark of fear lit in her eyes. Her eyes flit about the room and landed on Adrastos, who was watching her intently. She gave a polite nod to him and turned back to Wycliffe, speaking loudly this time. “Apologies, but I think you have the wrong person.” The words sounded much more like a threat than an apology. She removed her hand from his touch and turned to go. He reached out and grasped at her wrist as she went to leave. She looked back and noticed a similar fear in his own eyes. Confusion and distrust flickered across her expression before she turned away again, pulling her wrist free and escaping through the busy crowd. She moved straight to Adrastos, curtsying as she reached the group of people around him. Wycliffe watched her make forced pleasantries with the new people she surrounded herself with. He did notice her look back at him a time or two to see if he was still there. It was going to be much harder than he thought to get her out of the Temple. He couldn’t let his friend down though.

He had been approached several weeks before by Dusk’s brother, Dawn. They both served in the Hells Riders, but hadn’t had much interaction before this. Wycliffe wasn’t exactly sure why Dawn had approached him with this job, but once he explained more about what was going on, Wycliffe felt compelled to help how he could. In all fairness, he didn’t know Dawn that well, as they had never really been in the same attachment. When Dawn explained what was happening with his sister, however, Wycliffe could not bear to see the same fate befall Dusk as what had happened to his own sister. He willingly took the job, but now that he was here, he felt nervous. He didn’t want to mess this up and risk hurting Dusk. He was on edge as well, returning to a large profile event like this after the deal he had struck with his father, but with any luck, neither his father nor his influential friends would be in attendance at the Masquerade. He adjusted his mask, feeling less than hidden in the decorative mask.

He watched from across the room and scowled at the old man she had approached, whose hand had found its way to Dusk’s waist. She clearly looked uncomfortable, but Wycliffe figured she could handle herself and would remove his hand if she wanted to. He knew from his research that the man was named Adrastos. He held the highest position in the Church and his influence spread further than the walls of the Temple. If Dusk was being threatened and would be forced out of the Church, he would be the one controlling everything. Perhaps she had her own role to play in these dealings. The group around Dusk and Adrastos moved to the dance floor as a lively tune began to play, but the tall Elf and the important looking Human remained to the edges of the dance floor. Wycliffe was also cautious of the guests around him and worked hard not to run into anyone he might know. He couldn’t risk interfering with his mission.

Dusk and the elder Cleric were deep in conversation but it looked accusational and Dusk looked upset by what the man was saying. She raised a hand up between him as if stopping him from speaking further. She moved to turn and walk away, but he grabbed her wrist, quite forcefully from the look of it. She turned back to him, a polite look on her face, although Wycliffe was sure that there was a rising anger underneath. Before he even knew what he was doing, his feet carried him closer to the pair.

“Ah, Dusk!” He called out. He watched as Adrastos released her wrist, but a red mark still lingered on her pale skin. He felt his own anger rising, but he pushed it down. “I believe you owe me zis dance.” He bowed low to Adrastos. “Apologies for zee interruption, but I figured she vould be busy later, zo I vanted to catch her vhile she had a free moment.” Wycliffe smiled graciously at the older Cleric as he held out his hand to Dusk. Adrastos looked angry that he was interrupted and he turned to speak to Dusk, but she quickly followed Wycliffe to the dance floor, giving a quick apology to Adrastos and promising they would talk more that evening. Adrastos was fuming, but Wycliffe shot him a daring look as if to challenge him to make a scene at such a prolific event. Dusk looked at Wycliffe, studying him again. She looked shaken and deep in thought, but grateful for the intervention.

“Are you alright?” Wycliffe asked when they had gotten further onto the dance floor. His fists were clenched and he looked angry. He was having difficulty leaving the old man with all his limbs intact. “It looked like he vas bozering you…”

Dusk didn’t quite make eye contact and Wycliffe could tell she was holding something back.

“I’m fine, il’kahtical. I had it handled.” She responded harshly before softening slightly. “I’m sorry. Thank you for getting me out of there. You’re right. It was not a conversation I wanted to hang around for.” She looked deeply upset, but Wycliffe was unsure if he should pry any further. He couldn’t help but feel bad for her and feel a need to protect her from whatever bad things Dawn needed to get her away from. He thought that man likely had a lot to do with it.

“Who is he?” Wycliffe asked.

“Degahr.” She murmured under her breath. “Adrastos. He’s the head of the Temple.” Dusk did not explain any further.

Wycliffe nodded. She confirmed what his research had told him. He stood on the dance floor awkwardly, looking around the room. Dusk took his hand in hers and placed her other hand on his shoulder. She watched Wycliffe with an amused expression for a moment before prompting him further, as he had not moved at all.

“Well, are we going to dance, then? If you were using that as a cover, we might as well get to it.” There was a kindness in Dusk’s eyes, and although she did not know Wycliffe, she felt she could trust him. Perhaps Selune had sent him to intervene.

“Ah right…” He raised a hand, but hovered right above her waist.

Dusk took her hand from his shoulder and gently pushed his hand to her waist. She smiled softly at him. “It’s alright. We’re dancing. You can put your hand there. No lower though,” She warned. The pair began to dance about the ballroom.

Wycliffe chuckled and nodded. “I’m zorry, I zaw Adrastos put his hands on you und it didn’t look like you vanted him to. I don’t vant to make you uncomfortable.”

Dusk smiled gratefully. “I appreciate that you noticed. He has a lot of power, so I can’t really tell him no.” She looked away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” The pair continued to dance about the grand ballroom in silence for a moment.

Wycliffe leaned in so that he could not be heard by anyone. “You do not need to apologize. It is clear you are being mistreated here. I can help you.”

Dusk was silent for a moment before speaking barely above a whisper. She had to make sure this wasn’t a trap that Adrastos had set. “How?”

Dusk felt a light pressure at her waist as Wycliffe pulled her in closer and questioned, “Do you trust me?”

Dusk inhaled sharply as they moved closer together, but she looked down at the man and thought back to her earlier musings and she was sure it was a sign from Selune. She nodded hesitantly. “I do. I hope you have an awfully good plan.”