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calderamemes2024-11-29 12:00 am
calderaevents) wrote in calderamemes2024-11-29 12:00 am
TDM #4
ARRIVAL
It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:
As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.
“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”
And you most certainly do.
Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.
DRINK MENU
WINTER'S WHISPER A fragrant spiced tea that calms the nerves and inspires the drinker to share their hopes and dreams.
JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.
S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.
MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!
HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.
CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.
GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!
JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.
S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.
MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!
HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.
CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.
GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!
CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY
As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:
You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:
The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.
The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.
The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.
Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.
The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.
If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.
But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.
Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.
In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?
The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.
If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.
In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. Home upgrades can be purchased via rewards.
FANNING THE FLAMES
The renewed seething of the lava flows brought on by the tempestuous events deep below the sea seem to have been dealt with, though city guards have been stationed around the crater and are barring anyone from approaching to investigate any further than the outskirts. Interestingly, not only does the crater seem calm, it appears to be changing. Any remaining lava flow is being directed as if by unseen hands, and when the light catches just right, the barest hint of a shimmer can be detected surrounding the glowing rivers. New rock formations take shape as the days pass, though one never can catch the presence of a mason working on the structures. It's as if something intangible or invisible is repairing what was broken, turning what was previously chaos and ruin into order and life.
SEASON OF LIGHT
The world remains unsettled, still bearing the scars of the trials endured just a month prior, not to mention the oddities happening with the volcanic crater and the ominous shadows creeping in from the sea continue to haunt the collective psyche, leaving both locals and visitors on constant edge, fearful of a sudden, unprovoked assault. Despite these lingering anxieties, the leaders have publicly reassured all that calm has been restored. They claim that the worst is behind them and that every measure is being taken to prevent such devastating magics from ever threatening Salt Spire again. The protective bubble holds, new Undine are being ushered into their roles, and the world, it is said, is slowly healing. Or so they claim.
Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.
One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.
The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...
Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.
One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.
The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...
THE GRAND MASQUERADE
Another highlight of the season is the Grand Masquerade that unfolds high above the world in Heaven’s Bow, the floating city where the wind dances in the sky and the stars seem close enough to touch. The event is more than just a celebration of the Season of Lights—it’s a gathering of hope, a last-ditch effort to save Caldera from its slow unraveling. Here, among the clouds and the wind, the people of Caldera and the mysterious Visitors from other worlds come together in a shimmering, ethereal celebration, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks and appropriately fancy dress provided when one steps through the threshold of the castle gates.
The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.
Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.
As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.
The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.
Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.
As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.
THE SKY'S ASCENSION
At one end of the palace's terrace, a floating platform hovers above the clouds, surrounded by shifting air currents. Sylphs glide effortlessly through the space, their wings leaving trails of light as they move to the lively music, which seems written by the wind itself.
Aella, Admiral of the Slyph, stands at the center of the platform, her cloak of shimmering feathers rippling in the breeze. She surveys the crowd, inviting those brave enough to take part in her challenge. Before them, a maze of floating platforms stretches out, some wide and stable, others narrow and swaying in the wind. The task is simple: leap from one platform to the next, navigating the shifting air and ever-changing obstacles.
The platforms move unpredictably, some rising higher, others sinking, and a few disappearing entirely. Guests must time their jumps perfectly, balancing agility with timing as they avoid falling into the clouds below.
Those who succeed will earn Aella’s favor (in the form of 100 Bones and a single white feather). And those who falter will simply reappear the start of the challenge to begin anew or give up with no repercussions for the latter save perhaps a bit of embarrassment.
THE SEA'S SECRETS
On the other side of the terrace, a serene water garden unfolds, its shimmering pools reflecting the stars above. Water flows in delicate, endless cascades, filling the air with a soft, soothing melody that mingles with the distant sound of waves. The Undines, graceful and serene beings of the Sea, glide effortlessly through the space, their robes flowing like gentle currents, their movements as fluid as the water itself.
Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.
The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.
Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.
As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.
Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.
The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.
Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.
As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.
THE LAND'S EMBRACE
In the heart of the palace gardens, beneath a canopy of flowering trees, the Dryads drift gracefully among the guests, their earthy skin glowing with life and their eyes bright with the vitality of nature. The air is thick with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine, while the ground beneath the guests' feet pulses with a quiet energy, inviting them to pause and feel the garden’s magic.
Terra, the Lady of the Land, stands at the center, her form adorned in living vines and blossoms, moving as if the garden itself flows through her. Her presence is both nurturing and fierce, a silent invitation to those seeking connection—to the land, to love, and to one another.
Guests are drawn to the tranquil beauty of the garden, stealing soft moments with their partners among the flowers. Lovers exchange quiet glances, touch petals with gentle fingers, and share unspoken promises beneath the soft glow of lanterns. The garden hums with romance, as if the earth itself is blessing these tender moments, offering the quiet assurance that love—like the land—can grow in the most unexpected places.
As the night draws to a close, Terra’s gentle power is felt in the air, and for those who have taken the time to connect with the garden’s beauty, a soft gift of nature is bestowed. A flower—unique and radiant—appears in their hand, a token of love and growth, a reminder that even the briefest moments can take root and blossom into something everlasting.
QUESTBOARD [NEW QUESTS ADDED]
Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.
Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.
Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.
OOC NOTES
Welcome to Caldera's fourth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.
For OOC questions, please direct themhere.
All locations are available to be explored!
The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.
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For OOC questions, please direct themhere.
All locations are available to be explored!
The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.
Enver Gortash | Baldur's Gate III | Undine
Much of Gortash's work since arriving has been...slow. It's hard not to hang oneself up on their own death, and then there were other things. Not thinking and diving into work, focusing on the research in front of him, keeping his home going. That has been the focus largely.
It was simple to start. Settling into this new existence, fairly disappearing into it. Somewhat enjoying the anonymity of it all.
For a while he receded, though. Beginning to emerge again only recently because -- well he has to, doesn't he? Strange that he should feel a pull toward this event. To find his way up to this palace in the clouds and step through, attire changed, into something not-at-all unfamiliar.
There were similar soirees back in Baldur's Gate. Harvest celebrations. The wealthy elite of the Gate donning costumes and masks, using anonymity and coin to overindulge and trade special connections. He was chosen to serve as Master of Ceremonies early in the development of the Steel Watch. An up-and-coming weapons specialist catching the ear and eye of many an influential name in the higher echelons, ready to unveil a new invention sure to please the heavier purses: security without dirty, common hands coming into their corner of the universe. His was one of the few names it wasn't taboo to know in the otherwise "could be anyone" atmosphere of it all, as the one who declared festivities open and closed.
Here he is in charge of nothing, and he's not certain the level of debauchery likely to be present, but tonight he feels like he should be keeping his eyes open. Whether for new faces, old ones. Trajectory of some kind.
If nothing else, this is a corner of this world he hasn't visited yet. There is always something to learn.
[The Sea's Secrets]
The unfolding garden begins to reveal for him at least why the outfit is the way it is. He can be found wandering with other visitors after he's tired of the rest of the party. Thoughtful, but for once in a place that seems as full as his head, and it creates a kind of balance.
He has to find his way past whatever has been holding him in place. The world around him stresses patience, though.
Masquerade
Let her fly back to the recently-discovered sky island. Let her undermine whatever the local equivalent of Spellhold is.
Let her pick up a glass of wine, and tip it toward the man with the fascinating mask, before taking a sip. "Hope you're comfy in all that. Find anything you like?"
no subject
A frown at her question.
"I haven't been actively looking." Food and drink would be there when he had need of it, but appetite and thirst have not found him yet.
no subject
But then, not actively looking. What else is there? "Someone here's gotta know the right way to entertain themselves around this stuff."
no subject
And that is enough to keep him entertained for now, if that is what people want to call it.
"What of you? Either you hate the color pink or something else isn't sitting right in your stomach."
no subject
"Just dunno what sort of trouble I can make here," Imoen admits, eventually. "Used to monks of Oghma chanting and getting huffy about some tomes getting left out of order."
no subject
Gortash glances around. "Well, it might take you a little time but I'm sure there is a library you can bother around here somewhere." Castles usually have at least one somewhere.
no subject
She surveys the place, considering exits. Little ways to scurry out, whether it's a place Imoen should be scurrying or not.
"How far do you think our invitations extend?"
The word invitation might be employed lightly. Habitual irreverence - why does she have to follow rules about where she can or can't go?
no subject
But far be it from him to deny others their fun.
Or potential consequences.
no subject
Imoen curls a finger in the air, to represent one of those cursed hands in the process of dishing out the unforeseen parts of a poorly expressed desire. She does seem to give him a look meant to appraise his character. His capacity for trouble.
She really has enjoyed the luxury of living an unsubtle life.
"If you were a palace library, where would you be?"
no subject
no subject
Well, not in the vampires dropped on the party and took everyone out in a moment of surprise sense. But there's a reason Imoen's footnote in history is her habit of getting into the things of various Candlekeep monks.
"Though I suppose that isn't always the best reading environment."
The Sea's Secrets
He's finding no particular enlightenment as of yet, and he's still not sure he likes this, but he's developing some level of acceptance.
The other man's approach makes him break his gaze from the queen at last, and that's probably for the best. He looks at Gortash, eyes red behind his mask, but his body language is now going from tension to languid uncertainty. "I've lost track of time," he says quietly. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"
no subject
It's a fair question. He himself has been wandering a while, taking in the surroundings in search of some kind of answer. He doesn't know why he felt like he would find some here tonight, what pulled him. But this area felt like the center of it. So he sought. He waited. He still waits.
"Later, but I don't believe that unmasking has begun."
no subject
"Unmasking," he echoes, with a faint hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "When the most mysterious among us seem to be without masks at all."
It's a pointed commentary, but it seems unlikely Cordelia hears him. It seems unlikely she's listening at all, in fact, though looks can deceive. The more fool Loki, perhaps, for trying to win a staring contest with someone who's not even competing. He sighs and refocuses on Gortash, because at least he's paying enough attention to speak to him. "This is a loaded question, but are you finding any enlightenment here? I most certainly am not."
no subject
And it doesn't do for the ones in charge of things to not be easily identified when things go wrong. Even when he was a master of ceremonies himself, with a mask he still had to be recognizable in some form or fashion.
He has to consider the question a moment. What had he come seeking, really?
"In a way, I suppose."
Does he feel any less directionless? Not really. But he is becoming more settled to the idea that it is not meant to puzzle itself out quickly.
no subject
He's been a host for royal events, himself, though rarely for anything he got to plan. Asgard put him to the same diplomatic uses other realms would assign to their princesses. He got very good at being charming, entertaining, and somewhat decorative, at an early age. Sometimes he relished the task. He hasn't really taken the time to consider this party from that same perspective, though. Do you need diplomacy when you have a captive audience?
When they're unpredictable, you probably do.
"I think what bothers me," he says slowly, "is the feeling that I'm expected to do something, with no actual instruction or direction offered, and I suspect I'm being judged on the outcome." The story of his childhood.
"But you sound as though you're treading somewhat familiar ground, at least." He offers a handshake. "Well met. My name is Loki."
no subject
Half a second to measure the gesture for what it is; different traditions in different places, so a moment to read body language and make certain a handshake is being initiated. Then it is accepted firmly. A strong (by human standards) but easy grip, the warmth of his palm occasionally interrupted by the bands of steel that are his ring splints.
The smile there beneath the edges of his mask is warm but discerning.
"Enver Gortash. A pleasure to meet you, Loki."
The Masquerade
"That," he says by way of greeting, "is an excellent mask. I wish mine were as fitting. I'm going to start making my own. The last one I wore was a rabbit, I'm starting to think the place is making jokes at my expense."
"I meant to give you something," he adds. "I didn't have it ready at the Lightwalking."
Truthfully, he wasn't sure whether Gortash would welcome a gift from him or anyone else, but after a little thought he decided there was no harm in it. There is, at least, a single breast pocket in this garment he has on, and the box he withdraws from it is tiny. Black, plain and polished wood, unwrapped. Inside are three very finely machined metal pen nibs. "For technical drawings," he says. "You'll want to find your own quill for them, of course."
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It was also a good deal easier to approach on his own time; perhaps he was very accustomed to that being the way of things before. So being happened upon himself is...perhaps a touch unexpected.
"Do you suppose they allow for that?" He needs to find a mirror and get a better look at the ensemble. With them having just had costuming appear on them, he had to wonder if they would leave someone untouched who simply arrived already dressed for the occasion. "I wish I could take any credit, but perhaps if this continues in a year we'll see a few with their own designs." Whether for the mask or the clothing. It wasn't like this was a color he'd choose for himself.
Which he assumes did not happen tonight for either of them. The mask the gnome was wearing didn't draw as much attention as the rest. He supposed the point of art was to generate some manner of reaction, and here he was having one, internally. And it is that he has no idea what to make of it. A lot of the clothing here is just a little alien.
And any thoughts he was going to have are interrupted at the appearance of a small box.
He accepts it, looking somewhat skeptical. Not knowing the traditions here, and having forged so few connections, traditions regarding exchanges hadn't occurred to him. But he also has been somewhat wary of gifts. There are the expected ones that come with certain occasions once you have entered a certain income bracket. How extravagant it was usually went up the poorer the recipient in comparison and the more public the event -- showing off, really. When you are that recipient your job is to stumble over yourself and try not to be offended that you are now a prop for their magnanimity. If it got more personal than that, Gortash trusted it less.
So he's uncertain where this stands. What is expected of him, other than to politely accept. And when he opens it, his eyebrows go up.
Ready? "Am I to understand you made these?"
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His family was generous with gifts, within their community. They always looked after their own. Danger was all around him, always, but so were his kin. And now, after his (mis)adventures between the Gate and the Underdark and back again, it's occurred to him that his circle can expand to include people aside from other gnomes.
Perhaps his circle should not expand to include Gortash, technically. There are a lot of reasons not to get too cozy with this man, but if you spend all your time pushing someone away...well, eventually they're going to be out of your reach.
"Yes, I made them." Barcus seems to take this as a given. Why wouldn't he be making things? Why wouldn't he give them away? He can't keep everything his busy little hands crank out. "I use the same kind for my work. I find the pens that are commercially available aren't fine enough, and the ink flow is too variable, and don't get me started on cheap quills. So I designed my own. Try them; if you don't like them for drawing they're still quite good for journaling."
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He understands the frustration in finding well made pens, especially for drafting. Not really something he had to spend as much time worrying about in those last years, you climb high enough and it is assumed that your tastes are particular and catered to more specifically. But there was a time when his name was only as good as what he could produce, and it was an edifice that could easily crumble with as simple a mistake as not being meticulous.
He never made his own instruments, anymore. And because it wasn't his field he never perfected the art before he could afford to no longer need to.
"You might have a second occupation on your hands if you are after extra bones; they don't make anything like this here." Which. He's getting ahead of himself. "Thank you."
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"I hope you find them useful. If you have modifications to suggest after you try them out, I'm all ears. And you're quite welcome."
A little laugh, then. "I've mostly been repairing things for other Visitors thus far, but I suppose I could try peddling them at the Soot Spire, if I need a source of income outside of quests."
A pause, and then he adds: "There's a guild. Maybe you weren't aware, and the woman who originated it appears to have vanished, but a number of Visitors are sort of...casually banding together for the purpose of having quest partners within easy reach. I offered to repair weapons and armor for them. I think they would welcome you, as well."
It's a cautious suggestion. It doesn't take extensive acquaintance with this man to guess that he's...independent. But the information is out there; no reason not to share it.