Already at the Masq when the first of the elders start to arrive:
            Rebman entourage
            Bend
            Montage
            Ambassador Kaia (flame)
            Duchess Valeria (mermaid)
            Viking gentleman
            Baron Kaliq (tiger)
            Barenthkov (black/white)
            Lord Rein (ranger/bard)
            musicians (in Indian garb)
            Gatewegian contingent (Ambassador Harper as griffin, Thalia as sphinx)
            Viscountess Wonder (Queen of Hearts)
            Venesch (on duty)

Caine (dressed as death) arrives almost exactly on time, with a small entourage of Naval men of rank. His crew of gentleman companions includes the Marquess Winters and a number of captains, active and retired. All are familiar to regulars at the Naval and a number are members of the GC.

Llewella (bishop) arrives alone, but is quickly swept into conversation by part of the Rebman entourage.

Jerod (Yin/Yang) arrives momentarily after Caine and Llewella

Vere (gray mist) arrives a few minutes after Jerod, very close to the official start time.

Reid (harlequin) arrive more or less on time.

Conner (oriental dragon) arrives shortly after Reid and joins up with Ambassador Harper and Thalia and they head over to Reid. 

Solange (flying sun goddess) arrives not long thereafter.   

Brennan (fox) and Cambina (moon) show up nominally on time; some minutes after the affair formally is scheduled to begin, but not noticeably late, either.

Ossian (desert nomad) also arrives early (a few minutes after the starting time) and heads for Solange. ** Pause of maybe 10-20 mins before 2nd wave **
Fiona (green siren) and Bleys (devil) arrive together.  Bleys ends up talking to Viscountess Wonder.

Lucas (shepherd) and Solace (shepherdess) arrive some minutes later. They are not so early as to be unfashionable, not so late as to be flaunting it, and distant enough after Fiona and Bleys that their arrival gets the attention of everyone in the room.

At this point Vere and Jerod join up.

Marius (brown-gold otter) and Aisling (grey-silver moth) appear, then, enough after Lucas and Solace that the murmuring has died down, and pause for a moment to survey and be surveyed, as is customary, before mingling with the throng.

Merlin (hawk), Lilly (red dragon Ying), and Paige (green dragon Yang) enter.

At a time not late enough to be quite fashionable yet, Jovian (firebird) enters with Kourin (snowbird) on his wing - literally.

Five dragonriders (all dragons):
            M'coril (green)
            (blue)
            (brown)
            (bronze)
            (gold)

Jovian and Kourin join Vere and Jerod.

Robin (huntress) arrives and makes her way towards Jovian but is intercepted by Brennen and Cambina.

**Third wave - maybe 30 mins after 2nd wave (~1hr after the first royals)**
Some time after Merlin, Lilly, and Paige enter, Gerard (Roman charioteer) arrives and goes to talk to Worth and some other Naval officers.

Benedict (druid/monk) is the next personage of note to enter and goes to talk to Sir Octave (pirate).

Corwin (harlequin) and Flora (Spring - green/yellow) arrive together.

By the time Julian (white winged god) arrives on the scene, most of those invited to the masquerade have already arrived.  He joins Gerard.

Moments after Julian's arrival, Folly (white swan) and Martin (black swan) appear.

It has been, perhaps, half a watch (~2hrs) since the first royals arrived at the ball, the drink is flowing and the laughter is just a bit louder than it was earlier. With the people and the candles, the room seems warm.

Random (Sultan) leads Vialle (harem girl) into the room, nodding and smiling as they promenade across the room.

** The music begins**
Julian and Fiona go dance.

* * *

The Masquerade takes place in the Great Hall of Castle Amber, where the largest public receptions thrown by the Crown have taken place for centuries. The room is tall,  spacious, heavily windowed, and indefensible from a military standpoint. Conveniently, it is not within the inner ring of castle buildings, so it doesn't have to be.
             The Great Hall is a long open room that links the second and third ring of castle buildings. There are side rooms off the Great Hall in both buildings, and these lead off into nooks and crannies where people may speak privately.
            In addition to the Great Hall itself, the Masquerade is expected to open out into the gardens between the two buildings, which are Capability Brown-style formal gardens (for anyone who cares about such things). The weather outside is a bit cool, as befits a spring evening, but the sky is clear and no rainfall is expected. [Fancy that!]
            As the young lords and ladies come in, they find that many of the hundreds of local notables who are expected to join the royal family have already arrived. Their garb ranges from traditional looks with masks to conceal their identities to fantastic garb, probably from outshadow, that boggles the mind.
            Some of the guests have gathered by the long table in a side room where crudites and finger foods have been set out for them. Pages garbed in Oriental style replace any plates emptied with new, full, ones.
            In another side room, there is an ice sculpture of an Oriental palace that looks for all the world to those familiar with the shadow Earth of Corwin's imprisonment like the Taj Mahal. The long reflecting pool in front of the palace is a fountain of champagne.
            In a third side room connected to the second, a number of butlers are serving wine and liquor to the guests.
            The musicians are in one corner of the room, well away from doors that lead to  the food and drink and to the outdoors. There is a small orchestra, more than a dozen but smaller than a score, playing chamber music. There is no dancing yet, and will be none until the King and Queen arrive.
            There are also trios and duos playing in some of the side chambers.

* * *

 The first royal arrivals to the Masquerade are Caine and Llewella.
            Caine arrives almost exactly on time, with a small entourage of Naval men of rank. His crew of gentleman companions includes the Marquess Winters and a number of captains, active and retired. All are familiar to regulars at the Naval and a number are members of the GC.
            Caine is dressed in black, with a skull half-mask, and carries a scythe.  It's not clear who he is until he tosses back his hood to eat or drink.
            Llewella arrives alone, but is quickly swept into conversation by part of the Rebman entourage. (Unless you know the Rebmans, it's not clear who, other than 'not Ambassaddor Kaia' and 'not Duchess Valeria'.)
            Llewella is costumed in a tall hat and a rich robe that makes those familiar with Shadow Earth customs think of a bishop. The hat conveniently hides her hair.

Jerod arrives momentarily after Caine and Llewella, pausing at the entranceway both to note those who are already there as well as to allow notice.  He wears a half mask which has upon the right side a white coloration, while on the left is black.  The mask is not evenly painted - there is no centerline but instead an irregular wavy pattern.  Those with high perceptions (and good imaginations) realize after a time in fact that the if the mask was a full one it would be a yin-yang symbol.
            As for his garb, he is dressed in a sharp white robe, hooded, reminiscent of an old mage or scholar, even down to his boots.  He has no jewelry or  adornments of any kind.  Unless otherwise stated, the hood is always up.

Jerod believes that Llewella is speaking to Bend and Montage, and that the others with them are officials with the Rebman embassy.
            Barenthkov is present, in a striking costume of black and white. Jerod also notes Venesch's presence; he is on duty this evening, but does not decline a few words with those who stop to speak with him.
            And, of course, the Duchess Valeria and Ambassador Kaia are here. Kaia is dressed in a ball dress of orange and yellow with a flame motif. Valeria is wearing a blue and green mermaid costume, which is something of an in-joke for the Rebmans in the crowd, because, of course, there is no such thing as a mermaid.

Vere arrives a few minutes after Jerod, very close to the official start time.  He wears a gray velvet sideslit greatcoat with a falling collar and turned back sleeves over a gray silk waistcoat and gray silk knee breeches, all with buttons of gray metal. Under the waistcoat he wears a gray shirt, with gray lace cuffs and a gray silk cravat about his neck.
            He wears gray leather halfboots, and skintight gray leather gloves. His hair is worn unbound, and his hair and beard are dyed the same shade of gray as his clothing. A gray porcelain mask covers the upper half of his face.
            Over everything he wears a loose gray robe and hood of fine silk mesh, so lightweight that it almost seems to float around him, which billows with his every move.
            When he arrives he slowly moves through the Great Hall, pausing to nod at everyone and admire their costumes, and reminding himself of how the acoustics of the Great Hall and its adjoining rooms work.  He also investigates all of the musicians, curious to discover who was and was not invited to play at this event.

Several prominent musicians, for instance, Rein and Barenthkov, have been invited as guests and are therefore not among the ensembles playing. Based on the numbers of players and the choices, Vere suspects that there is a second orchestra of about the same size being held back for play later in the evening.
            The musicians are all costumed in what the players would call Indian (from India) garb, with white jackets and trousers.

Reid arrive more or less on time. As he was preparing his costume, he got absorbed by his own image in the mirror and couldn't resist a quick and rough self-portrait on the closest surface he had available... in this case, unfortunately, something with a corrugated texture... Still, it gives a bit of the look, and can be found in his gallery...
            He wears a Harlequin's mask and a top hat, along with a diamond patterned Harlequin's costume in his colors. He rounds out the ensemble with a cane with a silver headstock that may or may not double as a weapon.

Reid sees a number of notable artists and patrons of the arts among the arrivals. The tiger is almost certainly Baron Kaliq. While Reid is not familiar with the source myth for the Red Queen's costume, he is certain that the Viscountess Wonder means a literary allusion of some sort. And the man in the Ranger costume with the faux lute is certainly Lord Rein.

Conner arrives shortly after Reid.  His outfit is made of overlapping patches of blue and sea green to give a very scale like appearance and a hood of the same stuff comes up over his head.  His mask is full but the lips and mouth are uncovered so he can eat and drink.  The mask is gilded and chased with jade depicting the enigmatically smiling face of an oriental dragon.  Those of you in the know however can easily see how the scales may once have meant to be a different beast all together.

Solange arrives not long thereafter.  Her gown is a column of bias-cut golden satin with a halter neckline.  It is completely plain, so as not to compete with the enormous wings she's wearing on her back.  They look as if they're made of shimmering white feathers, but close inspection shows that each "feather" is really two layers of cloth, the lower layer plain white and the overlayer an opalescent sheer.  Their framework is articulated, so that she can move the wings from "closed" to "displayed" at will -- she does so as she enters the room.  Her hair is caught up in a chignon, and she wears a golden half-mask with conventionally stylized sun's rays extending from its arched upper edge.  There are golden sandals on her feet.

The Gatwegian contingent has already arrived, Conner notes. Ambassador Harper is dressed as a griffin, and Thalia as a sphinx.

Conner wanders over to them.  "What a fine pair we make."  He greets Thalia.  "A riddle and an enigma."  He grins.

"Wrapped in a mystery."  She grins back.  "I'm glad you changed it.  Shall we get something to drink and see who else is so gauche as to be on time?"

"Gladly."  Conner smiles warmly taking her hand.  They glide over to the bar where drinks are duely collected, Conner taking for himself a glass of jade colored wine.  "Seems most of the early birds are flocking with each other."  Conner comments looking over at the Vere, Jerod, Jovian knot.  "Reid seems free."  He notes.  "Shall we?"

"I've been wondering about him for a while.  Ambassador Harper says he has been away from Amber for a long time.  I wonder if he's ever been to Gateway?"

"If he has, it would be a Gateway long past."  Conner remarks.

The dragon and sphinx glide up to Reid. "Good evening Mi'lord Harlequin. Enjoying the day so far?"

"So far, it has not been totally without merit." Reid smiles from beneath his half-mask. "And yourself, Mi'lord Dragon? How have you suffered the day's itinerary?" He smiles at the stranger in the Sphinx costume. "Or perhaps your day has taken a turn for the better?" He bows to the lady.

"Most definitely an improvement."  Conner smiles.  "May I present Lady Thalia of Gateway. "  He introduces.

She bows.  "I have long been interested in hearing more about you.  I am here as the Sphinx and yet it is you who are the riddle."

Reid musters his best enigmatic smile at kisses the lady's hand. "Lady Thalia. Of course I remember your arrival with my cousin here. I believe we have you to thank, at least in part, for his safe return? I regret that it has taken so long for us to meet face to face." He pauses for a moment before adding, "Or mask to mask, as the case might be." His smile brightens.
            "As to the matter of riddles, I am merely old, and not terribly exciting except perhaps by the duration of my absence." Looking around the room he offers, "In fact were it not for the resilience of Prince Benedict, I could lay claim to being the oldest codger present. Alas, I must, with dignity, allow my uncle that honor." The sparkle in his eye shines in clear contrast to the black leather of his mask before he winks at Conner.

Conner chuckles. "You are too modest by half.  Don't make me get Brita to start lauding your praises in her Valkyrie voice."  He grins.

"I met the king on several occasions.  Gateway's embassies have traditionally been very close.  The king was old, you were merely born long ago.  Are people very different now?"

"The people today are more pleasant to chew on. In days of yore they were more sinewy from all the hard work they did." Reid is only half joking. "I guess people used to settle their own issues more; there were more powerful players in the city and their factions combined the functions of social club and militia. Chivalry was not, in fact, dead... to the point that my father and his twin brother went to serve Rebma when Moins found her kingdom in distress. It was the proper, though possibly unpopular, way to do things. The castle was large to me as a child, and now, there is simply more of it, in almost all directions, I would think. And I suppose we have tamed more of Arden now -- Garnath was still a valley, but had no permanent inhabitants."

Thalia nods, a slightly bemused grin playing below her mask.

"The Garnath stuff was quite recent."  Conner comments.  "I am still surprised it went off with a few snags as it did."  Conner takes a sip of his drink.  "What state was the family in when you left Amber?"  He asks curiously.

She looks at Reid, waiting for his answer.

Reid arches an eyebrow, as if to indicate, "you really want to hear this, huh?"; settles into the inevitability of it; and before his journey from party guest to lecturer can be completed, flags down a servant for an appropriately stiff drink before continuing...
            "The family? There wasn't so damned much of it for one thing," he smiles. "No, if you recall your history lessons, first were the twins, then Benedict. They were all Cymnea's children. Now, if there's one thing you may have noticed about the 'family', it's that Oberon made a lot more time for his mistresses than he did for his children, much less his grandchildren... even though for every mistress he managed to get 3 or 4 heirs out of the deal. But Cymnea was a kind and doting grandmother. Not to say she was doting in general, mind you. No, if anything she was a very shrewd player in the courts. Nonetheless, when Oberon edged her out in favor of Faiella, the extent of her protest could only get her so much."
            Reid takes a big sip of his drink.
            "So Faiella came in and had Eric around the same time I was born, though shortly after. It was tough for me, growing up, because to whatever degree children held the spotlight in the castle, he got it... I suppose mainly in the eyes of the servants. Even though we were on our way out of Oberon's favor, I still grew up with a fair amount of time in the castle. Eric was spoiled, and a bit of a bully. I think some of that may have been tempered when Corwin was born, but I was long gone by then..."

"Long gone, indeed, if you predate Prince Corwin.  Were you, like him, lost in some barbaric remoteness not knowing who you were?  He's the subject of more than one romantic penny-dreadful, you know.  Should there be books of your exploits as well?" Thalia asks.

"Lost in some barbaric remoteness? Yes. But I always knew who I was... Just wasn't able to get back for some reason. I suppose that's not as exciting a subject for the dreadfuls," Reid suggests. "Sounds like the adventures of Conner's escape would be more captivating a tale, though undoubtedly shorter." He smiles at his cousin.

Conner chuckles and then muses.  "It would at that."  he hums.  "Perhaps I should hook up with one of the printers."

"Well, Prince Reid, you've just given the lie to about half the stories of your powers.  In Gateway they say that you can be six places at once and always can teleport instantly back to your castle if you are in danger."
            She smiles.  "There are other rumors, as well."

"Bah," Reid retorts sheepishly. "Teleport instantly back to the castle in the face of danger? I haven't done that in," he raises his left arm and consults a crude sundial strapped to his wrist that obviously serves no functional use, "a week. Well, almost a week. Actually, short of delving into a list of rumors as long as my flute, I'm more curious as to why anyone in Gateway would even know who I am. Even around here, there aren't many who would have even recognized the name when I came back."

"Oh, by you, I meant all of you, and the rumors are not exclusive to Gateway.   I've known Conner long enough to know that some of them are true.  You all are a secretive lot."  She smiles.  "But worth knowing, I've found."

Thalia turns and looks at the entrance, where Vialle and Random have just arrived.  She bows at the appropriate time and waits for one of her two companions to ask her to dance.

Reid makes the first move, offering Thalia his arm before Conner can protest. "You have the rest of the evening, but I have the moment." And with that, he whisks her off onto the dance floor.

* * *

Unless Cambina has a particular desire to show up fashionably late or later, Brennan and Cambina show up nominally on time; some minutes after the affair formally is scheduled to begin, but not noticeably late, either.
   
Cambina is garbed in a black gown with a high, old-fashioned standing ruff neckline of silvery grey. Her skirt is spangled with silver stars and her underskirts are various shades of silvery grey. Her domino mask is also of silvery cloth.  She is easily recognizable by her boy-cut short hair.

Brennan's costume has reversed his ordinary colors so that he now wears predominantly reddish brown with black trim, instead of vice-versa.  His jacket and pants are reddish brown, as is his cloak, and his boots and gloves are dark black.  His hair is lightly frosted with silver except for the heavier and much more noticeable streak of it running from his left temple, up over his head, and then all the way down his immaculately kept ponytail, which ends in another noticeable splash silver.
            His mask covers everything above his mouth, and is a nicely wrought fox face, grinning at something only he sees, and very close to that characteristic foxish wink.  Those who look very closely can tell that one of the fox-mask's upper canines is broken and slightly shorter than the other.
            It is dealer's choice as to whether Brennan is recognized by his beard, his hair (the color of which is still plain under the silver highlights) or the green eyes that would have been a real pain to disguise.

Ossian also arrives early (a few minutes after the starting time). He is alone, and dressed in something most people would associate with desert nomads: a white flowing garb covering everything except his eyes and hands. In his belt he carries a small curved dagger. When he drops the piece of cloth covering his face, he wears a black, rather short, but thick fake beard. Still he is easy to identify from his movements and stature.

Ossian makes a number of the same observations about the musicians as Vere based on a quick check of the room. He also notices Kaliq, Barenthkov, and Rein.
            A few seconds after Ossian has entered the Great Hall he observes Solange. With a few quick steps, involving rotating quickly whirling dervish fashion, he ends up standing in front of her. He bows deeply.
            "Ah, a miracle! The Lady Sun shines in the night!" he exclaims. "I try to resist telling you are more radiant than ever, as it would be a bad pun. Nevertheless it would be true." Solange thinks Ossian's covered face is grinning madly.

Solange smiles back.  "How curious, to hear such praise of the sun from a desert  nomad," she says, teasing gently.  "I had feared you might hide from me.  I'm glad it's not so."

"We nomads try to shield ourselves against your beauty, but we never hide."

"Shall I take mercy on you, then, and let the path of my orbit cross near the cool  drinks?" Solange offers.  "It seems the least I could do."

"That would be merciful" Ossian says and offers his arm.

Solange takes it, and they head over to the drinks.

"It seems both the prior court minstrels are here as guests. One would expect that the minstrel would take part in the entertainment tonight.  Do you have any ideas what the King is up to? Will he appoint a new court minstrel?"

"I haven't any idea," Solange replies.  "Did you have a candidate in mind?"

''I don't know too much about Rein, but I guess the two best fitted in Amber have already been used.'' Ossian says. ''I guess Sandra could do it, but she needs a few years to grow into the role. Vialle likes her... Methinks the King might want to import someone to avoid any political implications. Or to get someone who plays his favourite style of music''
            ''I guess even he is too bound by tradition to choose Folly.''

"That'd certainly shock the court," Solange agrees.

Ossian nods.
            Ossian is a perfect gentleman as usual, and stay by Solange as long she wants him there, or until the dancing starts (if he is still by Solange he asks her for the first dance, of course)
            He seems not willing to discuss any deeper politics.

So, for choreography purposes, Solange and Ossian are by the champagne fountain when the dancing starts.  If someone doesn't beat him to it, she is happy to stand up with him for the first dance.

Solange and Ossian dance the first dance.  Unless Ossian has some further topic of significance besides the musicians, he and Solange concentrate on their dancing during the first dance.

Ossian indeed has nothing more of significance to say.

* * *

Fiona and Bleys arrive together. Bleys is in red and orange, and looks very dashing, of course. He wears a wicked little red half-mask, a pair of tiny horns peeking out through his well-coiffed red curls, and his sword, which makes him stick out like a sore thumb in this unarmed crowd.
            Fiona is dressed in a costume that the biddies will no doubt consider scandalous: a simple empire-waist sheath in green and a green domino mask.  Her red hair is piled on the top of her head in a simple knot. It is very becoming. She offers a smile to Conner before wandering off to speak with a Viking gentleman with a very-obviously-faux battleaxe.
            Lucas and Solace arrive some minutes later. They are not so early as to be unfashionable, not so late as to be flaunting it, and distant enough after Fiona and Bleys that their arrival gets the attention of everyone in the room. Their costumes can best be described as shepherd and shepherdess as imagined by Marie Antoniette, complete with croziers.

Marius and Aisling appear, then, enough after Lucas and Solace that the murmuring has died down, and pause for a moment to survey and be surveyed, as is customary, before mingling with the throng.  Aisling is interested in 'casing the joint', Marius can clearly tell, getting an idea of the whole space before settling down.  She exclaims with delight at the ice-fountain statue.

Marius is more than content with lazy shadowing.  He's looking at everyone, and, frankly, strutting just enough to be more amusing than aggressive.  He looks for those he knows, and he certainly keeps an eye out for Vialle.

Aisling is pleased enough to blend with his style.  After a bit she asks, "Art seeking someone in particular, my dear Otter?"

"My inquisitive eye follows around curves, under skirts, and perhaps to the occasional flash of silk and lace.  Yet there are some still missing whose presence would have this gain somewhat in grace."  He chortles, a surprising sound.  "Might there be some we should make our acquaintances to?
            "Who meets your fancy, Fluttering Moon?"

Aisling's gaze pans across the room, and then she suggests, "It seems to me that we are in a fine state to pass words between us, that lovely green lady and I..."  She nods towards Fiona, and lets their course drift to her if Marius offers no objection.

Fiona is still speaking with the strapping Viking, but turns slightly to acknowledge the newcomers. Both Marius and Aisling are certain that she recognizes them.

Is the Viking identifiable at this closer range from scent/carriage?

Perhaps he seems familiar, perhaps not. Fiona seems to be speaking with him as if he is to her.

Aisling bows a bit to both, smiling.  "My lady in green; my lord seafarer.  My lady, I merely wished to inquire as to your humour on this new night... The exodus from Chaos was stressful, yet I look forward to better things." 
    (Translation:  _I'm inclined to drop any unhappy bits that may be between us, with no blame assigned or apologies called for, if you are.  We're both supporting Random..._)

"We all look forward to better days, I am certain. But tonight, our new monarch decrees that we think only of light things and pleasure, rather than serious business," Fiona says with scrupulous neutrality.

"What a pity this is serious business," Aisling says lightly, her smile failing to entirely mask her melancholy.  She turns her eyes to the entry of their majesties, exclaiming softly, "Ah!  The queen looks lovely!"  This line of gaze has her looking more directly at Marius, and if he's looking at her, he can see her mission here has been accomplished.

After Aisling and he visit Fiona (he remains quietly "there."  Not protective, exactly, not eavesdropping, exactly, but somehow still "there" without being intrusive.) and Aisling asks him who he looks for, he indicates the arrival of the King and Queen.  "Shall we pay our respects?" he asks her, amusedly.

"If it would delight you," Aisling says, with a slight smile and the poise of a Greek statue.
 
At a time not late enough to be quite fashionable yet, Jovian enters with Kourin on his wing - literally.
            His tunic and leggings are a mottling of reds, oranges and gold tones that could suggest feathers or flames, depending on your point of view. The leading edges of his cloak are fastened at his wrists, the trailing edges deeply dagged and shaped to suggest a long-plumed tail in back; the hood is peaked to form a crest in back, with a long, stiffened point that obscures much of his face in front. Large, sparkling 'eyes' are on either side of the hood, with actual eyeholesin the nostrils at the beak. The cloak's colors range from vibrant red at the hood and shoulders through orange to sparkling gold-trimmed yellow at the outer edges. The whole shimmers with swirling, sparkling beadwork that catches the light as if flaming on its own.
            Where Jovian is the firebird, Kourin is the snowbird - similarly constructed, her garb is in silvery white, blues and the palest greens, shimmering like ice in dappled sunlight, beadwork sparkling like blowing snow on a crisp, clear winter's morning.
            For several minutes they mill about, Jovian introducing Kourin to those he recognizes, swapping compliments, sampling the punch and getting a feel for the sort of music that's popular in Amber these days.
            Five figures enter the Great Hall then, garbed similarly, but their colors are solid - gold, bronze, brown, blue and green - the trailing edges of their cloaks are engrailed, batlike, and the forward points of the hoods are blunter, more snout-like than beaky. The one in green is definitely being *led* by the blue. They seem to spend more time than expected noting the architecture and décor of the room,before seeking out the sideboard.

Jerod makes the rounds of this part of the Great Hall, stopping by to speak to Barenthkov briefly, looking over his outfit and asking briefly after the musical component of the evening if Barenthkov knows what is up (since he is obviously as a guest and not a player). He also asks after his situation, to make sure he is doing well but asks no other questions or becomes involved in anything treacherous, devious, political, etc, etc, etc.  He leaves that for the others.
            Jerod also stops by to speak briefly with Venesch, *almost* going so far as to tease him about his incredible outfit (being on duty and all), but he doesn't, liking his teacher a bit too much to do that to him.
            As for Llewella and company, he keeps an eye on them and notes their position for future reference.

After surveying the Great Hall and the smaller adjoining rooms, Vere ends up, seemingly by chance, standing next to Jerod.  He makes a slight bow, his sheer mesh robe floating around him like a gray mist.

"And thus the Grey Rider doth appear." Jerod says, nodding a slight bow.  "Figured out where the best part of the room is yet?"

"Annoyingly," Vere replies, "there is no single place where everything can be overheard, especially once the crowd becomes thick.   One would almost think it were planned that way, if one did not know better." 

Jerod chuckles, thinking how things always seemed to work to Oberon's design.

He tilts his head slightly to one side, considering Jerod's costume.  "An interesting choice.  The mask implies balance, yet the robe declares allegiance to a single principle.  One might assume that it conveys the thought that an apparent unswerving allegiance to a single cause or principle is but an outer seeming, shielding a more complex inner nature, equally given to light and dark."

Jerod smiles.  "One should consider that white is the composite of all colors.  In that vein, does that not imply many principles or allegiances?  Of course, one might consider it a paradox.  A single element unique to itself, composed of many other elements, each unique to itself.  Which is prime, which is subordinate?"

Vere returns the smile, without venturing an answer to the question.

"As opposed to the neutrality of grey?  The blending of white and the many colors it reflects, and black that absorbs all around it.  It fits you well Vere."

Vere nods an acknowledgement of the compliment.
            After a brief pause he continues, "I have a theory that a part of the amusement to a costume ball is discovering what reactions one's costume provokes in others."

"I'd call your theory a reality." Jerod replies.  "Our parents have lived so long that they are expert at covering their inner feelings.  It is by provocation that one gains insight into their motivations, if one desires to know. Unless they wish it known what they are up, in which case they may couch it in subtle terms - a game to see which of their siblings is watching and which one can figure it out.  Only with true family do they reveal their intentions, and then only so far."

"Provocation has never been a method of mine," Vere observes, "But I have learned quite a deal by watching the responses of various individuals to the provocations of others."  He tilts his head slightly.  "'True family,'" he quotes.  "An interesting choice of words."

"Family is always a relative term, no pun intended." Jerod says.  "Consider for a moment the classic quandary of choice between family and allegiance.  If you had to choose between your father and duty to the King for example.  Your ultimate decision is not relevant.  Instead, it is relevant that you would have to make choice in the first place.  When your father was Regent, there was no issue with that.  You might disagree with his decisions, but those would be technical issues.  Matters of opinion.  In the end, allegiance and family were one in the same.  The situation is no longer that clear cut."

"I understand conflict of duties very well," Vere replies.  "There is practically an entire genre of drama devoted to that theme in my homeland.  The consideration took place and my decision was made before I took the oath."  He looks around the room.  "You would advance the theory that most of those here have not yet made that decision, and will not do so until forced by circumstances?"

"Perhaps it is more correct for me to say that they have not yet had to *make* that decision.  Though I'm sure some of them would disagree." Jerod says, making his way over to a side board with a suitable drink selection.  "Before, allegiance and family were one in the same.  Oberon as monarch and father.  Plotting and scheming would occur within that framework.  Now their younger sibling is ruler.  Quite a different relationship dynamic."
            "It is also more precise for me to say that our cousins are all in that situation now.  How they will choose will be interesting to see." he says, selecting a glass of something suitably dark while appreciating the view of a serving wench that passes by.

Vere quietly selects a pear cider, lifts the glass under his lowered mesh hood and takes a drink.  After a few moments he says, "Speaking of loyalties and duties, I am bound to leave Amber within the very near future.  My homeland is embroiled in civil war, and my presence is required."
            He pauses again before continuing, "I am unhappy with leaving Father at this point, as I am not convinced that he will put his recovery at the top of his list of things to do.  I would appreciate it if some of those remaining here would continue to remind him of my expectations that he will continue actively seeking means of healing his legs."  He shrugs slightly.  "As time and other duties permit, of course."

Jerod smiles slightly at Vere's comments.  "I think you are probably right about your father and his recovery focus. For what it is worth, if you'd like, I will occasionally try to bother him.  Though I might also not be around either.  Corwin's magical Paris awaits and from there Rebma.  I'm probably going to be Random's sacrificial lamb to see what's going on down there." and he watches as the serving wench wanders off, nodding to himself (it's good to be a Prince).
            "You've never spoken directly about your background." Jerod says, looking back at Vere.  "Or perhaps, just not to me. Why is there a civil war?"

"Whatever little bit you can do will be appreciated," Vere says.  "Father sometimes needs to be annoyed into action.  And I know you have been looking forward to seeing Rebma again, whatever caution you may feel about your return."

"I will do what I can." Jerod says.  "A retreat to Rebma may be in order if I piss him off enough.  Of course, it just might be incentive enough for him to get healed."

"Anger him enough and perhaps he shall find a way to walk again so that he can follow after you," Vere says with a smile.

Vere takes another sip of cider.  "Actually," he says consideringly, "I think I have told you more of the Isles than any of my other cousins, in that one long talk on our homelands we had, what, six years ago? But you are correct, I did not go into the politics of the Theocracy at that time.  It is complex, but to simplify..."  he pauses for a few moments to order his thoughts.
            "From what little I have heard, it appears that my mother's chancellor, who was also her chief spy-master, has led a revolt against her, based upon an appeal to a more conservative interpretation of our people's religion and traditions.  In addition, she seems to have made common cause with the Witch-Queens of the mainland, our traditional enemies."  He smiles ruefully.  "Suchcommon cause would have been unthinkable in the recent past, but we learned to put aside our hatred and distrust of each other in the face of the common threat of the creatures that came out of the Black Forest, our version of the Black Road."
            "So," he concludes, "My mother and half-sister face a revolt led by an extremely clever and dangerous woman with an intimate knowledge of their abilities and resources, aided by rebel priestesses and sorceresses, and abetted by powerful foreign witches who consider my mother to be a representation of a way of life they despise.  I, myself, am something of an emblem of this way of life, having been allowed to depart too far from the proper roll of a man.  My return may well raise as many problems as it alleviates.  However, I have little choice."

As the spectre and white-robed mystic reach about this point in the conversation, they are not quite joined by a firebird. Not quite joined in that, noting the quiet, close tones of their conversation, he pauses at a range that does not require immediate acknowledgment, but is unmistakably present - a range that could just barely be called politely out of earshot - there awaiting an opportunity to address one or both of them.

"Who advised you of the revolt?" Jerod asks, sifting information, a question or two coming to mind that he files for future reference.

"Jovian," Vere says.  At first it sounds like an answer, until it becomes obvious that it is actually a greeting.

When Brennan arrived, he would have noted the tableau before him, and the  conversational knots.  He, too, would have liked to talk to Jovian, to introduce  Cambina to him and likewise, but in the interests of not crowding he lets it wait.
            Instead, he nods in Jovian's direction, and murmurs to Cambina,  "Jovian.  Introduce you, later?"  It's not a trick of the grin of the fox's mask-- Brennan really is smiling a bit at the party.  "And perhaps we can trick the handsome devil out of some of his stories, later on," he adds with a playful glint.
            A note on Brennan, by the way-- like Bleys, he is armed.  No fox should be without his teeth.  We can also assume Brennan has told Cambina that she looks lovely before the party began.