The atmosphere of the ball was warm and bright, lit by flickering sconces and gentle laughter. Upon entry, Aylin and Oswin were offered drinks, which they accepted gratefully. The building they were in was large and decorated with stone and rare materials. The floors were fine white marble, with the occasional flaw for character. The entryway opened into a wide center hall, with gracefully arching ceilings complete with golden chandeliers and various paintings of cherubs.
Two people stood near the entrance, greeting incoming guests. As Aylin and Oswin approached, the man beamed over at them and shook their hands. He was short for a human, with a paste of grey-ish hair plastered on his head and smoothed down. He had a dark mustache trimmed into his upper lip, resting just below a sharp nose and sea green eyes. He was stick-thin, dressed in a black suit much like Oswin's and holding a glass of strong drink in his free hand.(Please DM forgive me I don't remember a single name)
"William Riverford," he said, shaking Oswin's hand so hard his arm almost detached from its socket, "This is my wife, Marella."
The woman, a pale figure in her mid fifties, had pinched features and upward-angled brows that gave her a constant look of public discomfort. Her hands were doughy-soft, gentle wrinkles creasing the skin. Her brown eyes twinkled in the cheery light, meeting Aylin's with a strangely knowing look, as if she could see everything the half-elf had ever done. It disturbed her, and she broke contact.
"Please, enjoy the ball!" Marella said in a soft, kind voice. Oswin bowed, Aylin curtsied, and they rejoined in a corner of the main hall. Bubbling conversation flitted about, excited voices drowning out those of the more hushed guests, who were scattered about the hall with concern on their faces, conversing in small groups. Aylin took a sip of her drink, which was sweet and orangey, surprising her with its freshness.
"All right," Oswin said, "So they know who we are, and we've got a pretty positive standing, I think."
"So we split the room?" Aylin asked, finishing her drink and casting her gaze over Oswin's shoulder to look for another. Oswin have her an exasperated sigh.
"I think that would be most efficient, yes."
"Deal," she said, patting his shoulder and brushing past.
"And please try not to get too intoxicated!" he called after her.
Aylin, having finally gotten a second drink, sipped at it as she looked around the room. Oswin was surveying the scene, as well, looking apprehensively at a man and his date who were whispering in a low tone. He passed them as Aylin watched, returning to the host and hostess to ask his questions. In her wandering glance, Aylin caught sight of something she'd hardly expected. He was dressed in a dark suit with no tie, green-skinned and short-tusked. A half orc, with shoulder length hair decorated in unruly braids. His eyes washed over the room like a pair of yellow fireflies, landing on her, dancing away, and coming back. He was absurdly handsome for someone of his race, Aylin thought - not that orcs weren't attractive, but there was something about this one...
Oswin seemed to have noticed her interest, and was shaking his head at her with an expression that said, "I will cut you." She waved a slender hand and blew Oswin a kiss, ignoring him and heading for the couple nearest the orc. The man looked up as she approached, offering a bow of his head and a smile. Under a grey suit jacket, he wore a kilt which lay against his knees and made Aylin wonder if he got good air flow down there. He had a long black beard and curled dark hair. The woman with him was skinny and birdlike, with wisps of light blonde hair pulled back into an updo much like Aylin's.
"You're one of the ones who brought medicine to the doctor, aren't you?" the man asked.
"I am," Aylin said, smiling, "Word travels well here!"
