Post by Nadja on Feb 19, 2009 4:22:35 GMT -5
She knew not what possessed her to accept the invitation to the masqued ball at Castle Obyri on BloodRaven Isle. Never had she been to something so extravagant, at least not as a participant; an actual guest of the Royal House. Her wardrobe was simple, nothing so extravagant as to wear to such an event, nor did she truely have the coin in which to purchase such. Few sought out the tiny Gypsy to have their fortune's read, or to seek spiritual advice, so coins were a rare commodity for the Rom. Although she did manage to make a fine sum for her potions needed to aide the warriors in the battle recently fought, this would have to see her through for the lack of her other business's profits. For several nights she pondered on what she should do. If she spent the coins on a new gown, she'd not have enough to pay for the rent on her shop.
Many hours she sat looking over the area in which she lived, weighting the pro's and con's of her situation. To her, this was an opportunity of a life time, to be part of something great. Not as a servant, nor a performer as she had in days long past. To walk the same path as those with position, power, and wealth. To be viewed for a night as an equal, instead of the palper that she truely was. To some, a night such as this would perhaps not be as important as material things. A roof over one's head, the warmth of the fire to sit before on a wooden floor, and to prepare meals as well as the potions she made from herbs. Tables and chairs in which to sit at and write, to eat upon, or to entertain guests. However, this she did posses, although on a much smaller scale. She did still have her Vardo, a simple wagon that provided all the same comforts. Unlike the shop, this was mobile, and she was free to move when the call of the road would touch her ears.
What exactly would she be giving up for a night to remember? A large building that was empty by the most part, if you were to over look the sparce furnishings that filled it's rooms? None came to visit her here. Why did she need all this space to begin with? It was a dream, and proof that dreams are just a fantasy that never came true. Her life living in the depths of the forest were more fullfilling. At least she had the freedom to roam, all the food she would need to sustain herself nearby; and free for the taking. There she would understand why visitors were lacking, since she'd not be in a populated area to begin with. Why feel alone and unhappy, when the answer was simple? She was happy before she made this stationary move, and that was the day her happiness ended. It was enough to prompt her next action, and out the door she went in search of that special gown and mask.
She traveled beyong the boundries of Karamoon and Ravenscraig in her search, for that one item that would capture her fully. Within a days time, she would find what she sought for. Upon a maniquin in a dark, yet intriguing area, that rested in the shadows of a mamoth castle, was that special gown that called out to her. Her luck continued as in the same boutique, she also found a striking mask to wear in accompaniment and jewelry. What made it all the better, was that she could afford it, even if it ment trading off the shop in the end. The woman behind the counter wrapped the gown and mask in a protective package to ensure it'd not be ruined in travel, and out of the boutique she stepped with an elated feeling.
It was as she was about to leave, that her attention was drawn towards the castle in the distance. How ominous it seemed, with it's two large Gargoyle statues standing guard at it's enterance. The large cemetary's that surrounded it's outer perimeters. As midnight pools drifted over the area, she could even see the spirits that walked upon this land with their silent motion. It would be back to the castle attention would again return, and suddenly a sense of familiarity would flood her senses. This she couldn't understand, this was the first time she had been to this lands in which she found in her travels, or gazed upon the monsterous building that loomed over it. However there was a presence within, one that emitted such a sensation to touch her deeply. This puzzled her to the point that she'd move closer towards the large thick oak doors that would bid entry to the building's heart.
Slowly she made her way up the steep stair casing of stone that lead to the enterance. The giant Gargoyles that sat upon either side of the staircase on the balcony of the castle, stared down at her with their cold dead gaze. Clutching the packages tight to her chest, slippered feet continued to carry her forward to stand before the doors. It was then the doors slowly opened to reveal the foray richly decored in red velvets and mohogany wood. A glance to the right and then the left caused a brow to rise to see none had opened the massive doors, they had simply opened on their own accord. That should have been enough to make the tiny Rom to turn tail and run, but she didn't. Instead, hesitantly, she continued forward to step inside. Her eyes flowing over the area to view the artwork, furnishings, and decor before trailing up the massive carpeted staircase leading to the upper levels.
Here within, the sense of familiarity was stronger yet, that of the individual who resided within the castle confines, which only confused her even more. Slowly her steps carried her backwards, to step back out the very door she had entered. Once she was back by the statues, the door would slowly close to shut off viewing of the interior once more. Somehow she knew the resident of this collasal structure was not at home, but still she felt like an intruder all the same. Turning she walked along the balcony, to view the grounds before and around the castle's domain. There was another small cemetary that rested at it's side, and what looked to be a ground keepers home.
She would then notice that soon the sun would rise, and she still had some distance to travel to return to her small shop to prepare for the ball she'd attend as well as the move that would soon inevitably come. It would be by the following late afternoon that she'd find herself back in Port Tarund and the structure she called home. Once there, she'd rush inside and pull open the package that housed her gown and mask. Laying them out over a table, she proceeded with the ritual of cleansing, application of color to eyes and cheeks, as well as her hair. Then came the moment when she placed the gown upon her tiny frame and stood before the full length mirror. She couldn't believe the reflection she gazed upon was truely herself. Standing there in the fine material of the gown, it's rich velvety forest green material clinging greedily to her small form. If offered view of too much flesh for viewing in her opinion, but still that lessened not how it made her feel inside. Long plooms of a Peathingy accented the gown's skirt, gold and turquoise beeds that of the velvety top. Gold threading intriquetly wove within the corset that hugged her waist. It was then she placed the mask on, and peered into the mirror once more. The vibrant colors of greens and blues of the feathers that adorned her dress also comprised the full mask that towered a good half foot above her head. It covered all of her features except those dark eyes lined with coal, and the full natrually mauve colored lips.
Hands slowly trailed over the material to feel it's softness, never had she owned let alone worn something so rich and elegant. It transformed her so that she didn't even recognize herself, and this thought did bring forth a smile. If she didn't recognize herself, then other's wouldn't either. Which would mean she'd perhaps be better recieved than if any knew of the small Gypsy's identity. It was well worth the feeling within, to give up all that sat around her for this one night. Soon after she could hear the shouts in the Port, announcing the ship for Bloodravens Isle would soon be setting sail. Gathering her cloak she rushed out of her small shop, without a glance backwards, to head for the ship in which she had already purchased passage, and towards the event of a lifetime.
She stood upon the deck and watched the rolling waves as they passed, as the shoreline of one land became distant whilst the other came into view. Soon they were at the main port of Bloodravens Isle and there she found a carriage that was carrying passengers to the Castle in which the Ball was being held. Her excitement grew as the distance to the castle lessened. Soon she was standing before the massive building, gaze upon it as she had the other the day prior. For a moment the other was the one that stood before her, with it's familiar sense and then it was gone. A footman offered the tiny Rom his hand to assist her with disembarking from the carriage and soon she found herself making her way up to the castle and into the ballroom beyond.
It was elaborately decored, music seemed to come from nowhere to fill the room entirely with it's tempos and melodies. Tables laden with food and drink sat off to one side and servants mingled with the guest, carrying trays laden with various types of drinks to be offered. To say she was overwhelmed would be an understatement, as she moved in further to join guests who had already arrived, some upon the dance floor whilst others conversed in small groups off to the side. Then there were those much like herself, wandering slowly about as they abosorbed the area and atmosphere it provided. She knew not how long she had been taking in her surroundings, offering nods and smiles to the other guests she passed or passed her, when she heard the low, rich baritone voice directed at her ... "Good evening M'lady."
Slowly her head turned as midnight pools rested upon the finely dressed Lord adorning a white mask. A bow of her head in respect of greeting was offered, the soft purr of heavily accented words would then respond. "Buna Seara, Domnule."
He would then offer his hand and invite her to join him in dance. If her heart still beat, it would have fluttered at that particular moment in time. It was as if she simply stepped out of herself, watching on the outside as her hand rose to settle upon the one offered by the man. He then lead her to where the rest of the guests were already making their way along the ballroom floor, and soon she was within his arms as they joined thsoe in motion.
Most danced a few dances with one partner, then moved on to the next. However, none came to interupt the tiny Rom and the white masked man, requesting the attention or one or the other and this in turn had them spending the entirety of the event within each other's hold. The night was spent in light chatter of compliments and good natured gests. All around them seemed to simply disappear from concious thought, even the music was more felt than heard at the time. It was his eyes to which her own were drawn, and in time became lost in their depths. Occassionally she'd glance away, to offer nods and smiles to the other dancers as they swept past, only to be drawn back to his gaze and there to lock.
Somehow she had a sense that she knew this man, but not familiar enough to pinpoint the when, where, or how. The other thing that nagged at the back of her conciousness, was this familiarity was somehow connected to the castle that impacted her so the day prior. Although she would push these thoughts away, not letting them interfer with the moment that made her feel special, like someone of worth. For one night she was no longer a palper, one of the wandering people that so many shunned and treated with cruelty due to ignorance. For one night she wasn't ignored and simply waved off as insignificant. For this night she shinned like all the other ladies in the court, and was even acknowledged by the Emporess that resided in the castle, their hostess. This night made her heart feel light and her troubles to meerly melt into nonexistance. This she clung to for the moments it was allowed, knowing within that soon it would come to an end and she'd have to return to the life in which she lived.
Such time did come, after having danced the night away into the early morning hours. The man in the white mask would lead her off the dance floor to bid his goodnight. He turned and walked away, those midnight pools fixed upon his back as she moved. That sense of familiarity would again strike like a nagging wife in her mind. He would move a short distance before turning to gaze back into her direction. A gentle smile to be offered before she too would seek her passage back to her home in the Port, however the night she spent would be replayed in her mind. The aviance the evening had provided her, along with the mystery and intrigue of those she was surrounded by. Although, the thing that stood out most of all, was his eyes. She could closer her own and still envision their expressive depths, how they seemed to draw her within and embrace her like a cloak of warmth.
Once she returned home and removed the gown to pack it protectively away in her chest, she would slip on her chemise and settle before the warmth of the hearth. Her mind not on the impending move she'd have to face, nor the worries that haunted her recently. Instead, her mind was on the white masked man, and memories of the castle visited prior to the ball.
"We'll meet again, Domnule." Softly whispered to the fire that midnight pools were fixed upon. This was something she felt inside.
Many hours she sat looking over the area in which she lived, weighting the pro's and con's of her situation. To her, this was an opportunity of a life time, to be part of something great. Not as a servant, nor a performer as she had in days long past. To walk the same path as those with position, power, and wealth. To be viewed for a night as an equal, instead of the palper that she truely was. To some, a night such as this would perhaps not be as important as material things. A roof over one's head, the warmth of the fire to sit before on a wooden floor, and to prepare meals as well as the potions she made from herbs. Tables and chairs in which to sit at and write, to eat upon, or to entertain guests. However, this she did posses, although on a much smaller scale. She did still have her Vardo, a simple wagon that provided all the same comforts. Unlike the shop, this was mobile, and she was free to move when the call of the road would touch her ears.
What exactly would she be giving up for a night to remember? A large building that was empty by the most part, if you were to over look the sparce furnishings that filled it's rooms? None came to visit her here. Why did she need all this space to begin with? It was a dream, and proof that dreams are just a fantasy that never came true. Her life living in the depths of the forest were more fullfilling. At least she had the freedom to roam, all the food she would need to sustain herself nearby; and free for the taking. There she would understand why visitors were lacking, since she'd not be in a populated area to begin with. Why feel alone and unhappy, when the answer was simple? She was happy before she made this stationary move, and that was the day her happiness ended. It was enough to prompt her next action, and out the door she went in search of that special gown and mask.
She traveled beyong the boundries of Karamoon and Ravenscraig in her search, for that one item that would capture her fully. Within a days time, she would find what she sought for. Upon a maniquin in a dark, yet intriguing area, that rested in the shadows of a mamoth castle, was that special gown that called out to her. Her luck continued as in the same boutique, she also found a striking mask to wear in accompaniment and jewelry. What made it all the better, was that she could afford it, even if it ment trading off the shop in the end. The woman behind the counter wrapped the gown and mask in a protective package to ensure it'd not be ruined in travel, and out of the boutique she stepped with an elated feeling.
It was as she was about to leave, that her attention was drawn towards the castle in the distance. How ominous it seemed, with it's two large Gargoyle statues standing guard at it's enterance. The large cemetary's that surrounded it's outer perimeters. As midnight pools drifted over the area, she could even see the spirits that walked upon this land with their silent motion. It would be back to the castle attention would again return, and suddenly a sense of familiarity would flood her senses. This she couldn't understand, this was the first time she had been to this lands in which she found in her travels, or gazed upon the monsterous building that loomed over it. However there was a presence within, one that emitted such a sensation to touch her deeply. This puzzled her to the point that she'd move closer towards the large thick oak doors that would bid entry to the building's heart.
Slowly she made her way up the steep stair casing of stone that lead to the enterance. The giant Gargoyles that sat upon either side of the staircase on the balcony of the castle, stared down at her with their cold dead gaze. Clutching the packages tight to her chest, slippered feet continued to carry her forward to stand before the doors. It was then the doors slowly opened to reveal the foray richly decored in red velvets and mohogany wood. A glance to the right and then the left caused a brow to rise to see none had opened the massive doors, they had simply opened on their own accord. That should have been enough to make the tiny Rom to turn tail and run, but she didn't. Instead, hesitantly, she continued forward to step inside. Her eyes flowing over the area to view the artwork, furnishings, and decor before trailing up the massive carpeted staircase leading to the upper levels.
Here within, the sense of familiarity was stronger yet, that of the individual who resided within the castle confines, which only confused her even more. Slowly her steps carried her backwards, to step back out the very door she had entered. Once she was back by the statues, the door would slowly close to shut off viewing of the interior once more. Somehow she knew the resident of this collasal structure was not at home, but still she felt like an intruder all the same. Turning she walked along the balcony, to view the grounds before and around the castle's domain. There was another small cemetary that rested at it's side, and what looked to be a ground keepers home.
She would then notice that soon the sun would rise, and she still had some distance to travel to return to her small shop to prepare for the ball she'd attend as well as the move that would soon inevitably come. It would be by the following late afternoon that she'd find herself back in Port Tarund and the structure she called home. Once there, she'd rush inside and pull open the package that housed her gown and mask. Laying them out over a table, she proceeded with the ritual of cleansing, application of color to eyes and cheeks, as well as her hair. Then came the moment when she placed the gown upon her tiny frame and stood before the full length mirror. She couldn't believe the reflection she gazed upon was truely herself. Standing there in the fine material of the gown, it's rich velvety forest green material clinging greedily to her small form. If offered view of too much flesh for viewing in her opinion, but still that lessened not how it made her feel inside. Long plooms of a Peathingy accented the gown's skirt, gold and turquoise beeds that of the velvety top. Gold threading intriquetly wove within the corset that hugged her waist. It was then she placed the mask on, and peered into the mirror once more. The vibrant colors of greens and blues of the feathers that adorned her dress also comprised the full mask that towered a good half foot above her head. It covered all of her features except those dark eyes lined with coal, and the full natrually mauve colored lips.
Hands slowly trailed over the material to feel it's softness, never had she owned let alone worn something so rich and elegant. It transformed her so that she didn't even recognize herself, and this thought did bring forth a smile. If she didn't recognize herself, then other's wouldn't either. Which would mean she'd perhaps be better recieved than if any knew of the small Gypsy's identity. It was well worth the feeling within, to give up all that sat around her for this one night. Soon after she could hear the shouts in the Port, announcing the ship for Bloodravens Isle would soon be setting sail. Gathering her cloak she rushed out of her small shop, without a glance backwards, to head for the ship in which she had already purchased passage, and towards the event of a lifetime.
She stood upon the deck and watched the rolling waves as they passed, as the shoreline of one land became distant whilst the other came into view. Soon they were at the main port of Bloodravens Isle and there she found a carriage that was carrying passengers to the Castle in which the Ball was being held. Her excitement grew as the distance to the castle lessened. Soon she was standing before the massive building, gaze upon it as she had the other the day prior. For a moment the other was the one that stood before her, with it's familiar sense and then it was gone. A footman offered the tiny Rom his hand to assist her with disembarking from the carriage and soon she found herself making her way up to the castle and into the ballroom beyond.
It was elaborately decored, music seemed to come from nowhere to fill the room entirely with it's tempos and melodies. Tables laden with food and drink sat off to one side and servants mingled with the guest, carrying trays laden with various types of drinks to be offered. To say she was overwhelmed would be an understatement, as she moved in further to join guests who had already arrived, some upon the dance floor whilst others conversed in small groups off to the side. Then there were those much like herself, wandering slowly about as they abosorbed the area and atmosphere it provided. She knew not how long she had been taking in her surroundings, offering nods and smiles to the other guests she passed or passed her, when she heard the low, rich baritone voice directed at her ... "Good evening M'lady."
Slowly her head turned as midnight pools rested upon the finely dressed Lord adorning a white mask. A bow of her head in respect of greeting was offered, the soft purr of heavily accented words would then respond. "Buna Seara, Domnule."
He would then offer his hand and invite her to join him in dance. If her heart still beat, it would have fluttered at that particular moment in time. It was as if she simply stepped out of herself, watching on the outside as her hand rose to settle upon the one offered by the man. He then lead her to where the rest of the guests were already making their way along the ballroom floor, and soon she was within his arms as they joined thsoe in motion.
Most danced a few dances with one partner, then moved on to the next. However, none came to interupt the tiny Rom and the white masked man, requesting the attention or one or the other and this in turn had them spending the entirety of the event within each other's hold. The night was spent in light chatter of compliments and good natured gests. All around them seemed to simply disappear from concious thought, even the music was more felt than heard at the time. It was his eyes to which her own were drawn, and in time became lost in their depths. Occassionally she'd glance away, to offer nods and smiles to the other dancers as they swept past, only to be drawn back to his gaze and there to lock.
Somehow she had a sense that she knew this man, but not familiar enough to pinpoint the when, where, or how. The other thing that nagged at the back of her conciousness, was this familiarity was somehow connected to the castle that impacted her so the day prior. Although she would push these thoughts away, not letting them interfer with the moment that made her feel special, like someone of worth. For one night she was no longer a palper, one of the wandering people that so many shunned and treated with cruelty due to ignorance. For one night she wasn't ignored and simply waved off as insignificant. For this night she shinned like all the other ladies in the court, and was even acknowledged by the Emporess that resided in the castle, their hostess. This night made her heart feel light and her troubles to meerly melt into nonexistance. This she clung to for the moments it was allowed, knowing within that soon it would come to an end and she'd have to return to the life in which she lived.
Such time did come, after having danced the night away into the early morning hours. The man in the white mask would lead her off the dance floor to bid his goodnight. He turned and walked away, those midnight pools fixed upon his back as she moved. That sense of familiarity would again strike like a nagging wife in her mind. He would move a short distance before turning to gaze back into her direction. A gentle smile to be offered before she too would seek her passage back to her home in the Port, however the night she spent would be replayed in her mind. The aviance the evening had provided her, along with the mystery and intrigue of those she was surrounded by. Although, the thing that stood out most of all, was his eyes. She could closer her own and still envision their expressive depths, how they seemed to draw her within and embrace her like a cloak of warmth.
Once she returned home and removed the gown to pack it protectively away in her chest, she would slip on her chemise and settle before the warmth of the hearth. Her mind not on the impending move she'd have to face, nor the worries that haunted her recently. Instead, her mind was on the white masked man, and memories of the castle visited prior to the ball.
"We'll meet again, Domnule." Softly whispered to the fire that midnight pools were fixed upon. This was something she felt inside.
