The Ball Room [EVENT ROOM 1]

[Tobias Stalt]

Perfumes and the smell of fine cuisine waft through the ballroom. It is a party in every sense of the word, with decadence on display and the wealth of a Salvic Lord flaunted for all to see. This is the truth of the land once the corpse fingers of the Sway are pried loose. The Wintry North is ruled by opulence and greed, just like every other superpower in this world. Doubtless some of these guests are on the Payroll of the Merchant Princes, forging new bonds with the world far away from Delos. Gold is god, regardless of what the Infidels in the Church might preach.

They carefully police the door, the Royal Guard of Knife's Edge that has grown bloated and lazy. Dulled from their disuse, the men are more ornamental than efficient, but to their credit they strip away the weapons from each guest who enters. A veritable trove of tools rests just out of reach.

And who would not find temptation in the sight? Nobility that moves the invisible hand over this land litter the dance floor. Important figures in the Clergy of the Ethereal Sway no longer lurk in the shadows, but monopolize all the attention they can to win fledgling converts to their cause. This is a breeding ground for depravity, and the worst thing about it?

I'm not allowed to leave.

"Brother Stalt," the languid smile of a Pontiff thinly veils his malice. Those present some five years ago recall my exploits, and the death of an Archon. My presence here is only just welcome; but some of these vile creatures take pleasure in my pain. I can see a certain sadism in his gait as he embraces me, and his voice dips to a slurred whisper. There is wine on his breath. "So good to see you. I thought that when you left Salvar the last time we might never see you again. Your faith is as admirable as ever."

Ah, taunting me already. The festivities are virginal at best, man. At least let the wine taste sweet before you sour the night.

"When I heard the news that you were handpicked by Archon Anton for security detail, I found no end of relief. Surely, nothing foul will occur under your watch." He pulls away and the wry expression on his face tells another tale. He fully expects something to occur; or he knows something that I don't.

And I'm among the most likely scapegoats.

"Father Dresden," I greet him warmly, though my face remains stony. "It is good to find you well. I trust that you've kept the choir boys honest in my absence?" I ask, unabashed. His eyes widen for a moment, but he clears his throat and chuckles.

"You are a funny man, Tobias Stalt."

"You're the first person to say so," I shrug.

Black Vlince, and a pedant I couldn't bring myself to be rid of. The attire of a Witch Hunter, and of a fate I could not escape. Together with a handful of the All-Seeing Eye, I take up my post along the side of the ballroom, hands clasped behind my back. I've been paid to watch, because the Sway cannot afford any mishaps at this event.