The Quest for Dawn

Chapter 26: Into the Depths

Dusk was soon upon the vivacious southern city. Shadowheart had not yet returned from her reconnaissance of the Maestro's villa, while the three of them donned their elegant regalia purchased from the clothiers at Waukeen's Promenade earlier that day. Tav, with a keen sense of practicality, had penned a brief note, torn from her journal, explaining their whereabouts. She held a glimmer of hope that the cleric would be able to locate them in time before the performance commenced. In the meantime, she was confident that their small group could blend in seamlessly and find a way to gain entry to the exclusive event.

The southern styles were a bit different, but there was a tasteful mingling of cultures that still made sense. Tav wore a flowing yet simple kaftan dress in a light rosy color, her belt secured around her waist holding pouches for her journal and a small sheath for her knife, hidden behind the pouch. A silk turban wrapped around her ears to hide their high elven points, with an attractive tail framing one side of her face.

A tunic of rich green was what Gale chose from the clothiers, his belt cinched securely with his spell component pouch at the ready by his right hand, which would be hidden beneath a fine cloak much like Astarion's. The wizard was admiring the embroidery around the hem, curious about the cultural significance of the designs, as he followed behind Tavriel and Astarion.

To blend seamlessly with the masked revelers, they each donned masks of their own, concealing a significant portion of their features. They each hoped that this disguise would prove sufficient to shield them from the prying eyes of the Maestro's spies.

Initially reluctant to conform to the necessity of a disguise, Astarion could appreciate the tailored fit of the wrapped jacket he wore over a silk shirt. Coupled with well-fitted trousers and his calf-high boots, the attire complimented his stature and did wonderful things for his figure. Tav kept glancing at him.

"Like what you see, darling?" asked Astarion as they made their way into the Gem District. Tav was surprised that he knew she was looking. Seemingly reading her mind, he gave her a wry smile, teasing her, "As if I don't know you well enough by now." He felt two appreciative taps on his chest, and grinned, before concentrating back on the path ahead.

They approached a growing throng of revelry, the swell of music weaving through the air and to Astarion's ears. Amidst the sea of revelers, a fire eater captivated the crowd with his mesmerizing performance, his fiery breath arcing through the air and casting a fleeting warmth upon Astarion's exposed skin, causing him to flinch momentarily.

"Astarion," Gale whispered, his fingers brushing against Astarion's forearm. "A moment, if you please, before we progress further." They paused, withdrawing from the sea of masked figures, seeking a moment of quiet amidst the revelry.

"What is it?"

The wizard hesitated, his words caught in his throat, before finally venturing, "Your staff... perhaps if you modified its usage to that of a walking stick, it would blend in more effectively for the occasion."

Astarion lifted the staff and turned it in his hand, considering the suggestion. "Perhaps you're right," he conceded, mustering the newfound resolve he had discovered earlier that day. Adjusting the grip to hold the pommel, mindful of the release mechanism, the staff's purpose was transformed to a dignified accessory; akin to a walking stick. "Is this better?"

Tavriel watched the transition with pride. His ability to adapt never ceased to amaze her, and a small grin spread on her lips.

Gale hummed appreciatively. "Much better." He then became thoughtful, with a bewildered expression, as he said, "You know, I never noticed you were taller than me."

"Funny," said Astarion lightly, "I hadn't noticed either." A wry smile graced his lip, before he added, "Let's go. We need to get into that event."

The trio rejoined the procession of revelers in the streets. Pockets of dancers, jugglers, performers of all kinds surrounded them. Many of the merrymakers were making merry with each other, a sight that Gale found himself constantly turning away from.