Virgis: My apologies if any of you had other plans, but no one will be leaving until my assailant makes him- or herself known. I understand that it may be troubling to have a killer walking among you, but please do not let it spoil your merriment. Your safety is guaranteed.
Qroc: Yeah, what he said. The food's probably fine, or else you'd all probably have croaked by now. So eat! Drink up! Keep the music playing! It's a party, for fuck's sake!
The troubadours take up their instruments again and play as commanded, though their eyes cast nervously about the room. The crowd murmurs through forced, unnatural smiles.
Virgis: This has turned into a very splendid party indeed, Qroc. So many surprises, and more to come, no doubt. Why, I'm positively tickled.
Qroc: Wow. If only I had known that's what it would take to make you happy, Master, I could have been hiring hit men all this time. Anyway, what now? We play pin-the-tail-on-the-assassin?
Virgis: Indeed...
CAST OF CHARACTERS:
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Varel arrived to the party late, as always. She lowered her hand to comfort Wolfie, only to remember that she had the foresight to leave him on the city's outskirts. She was nervous at first, but after partaking of several libations she gaily joined the nights festivities and (badly) sang...
I want to run with the city people,
dancing too and fro.
I want to laugh with the lovely people,
everywhere I go.
Kicking evil in the nuts,
just ain't enough for me.
Why stay bored and all alone,
When there's so much there to see!
Her heel breaks then, nearly sending her crashing to the floor... but instead awkwardly into Orthos' arms. "Oh, silly Orthos. I told you that the faeries were everywhere. You had only to look!"
Orthos catches Varel and helps her to her feet. "I don't know what you mean. These are wizards not faeries." Then, turning toward Salbadore, he asks, “Are you well? Someone tried to assassinate Lord Virgis and struck you instead."
Varel leans on a nearby chair and grins widely. "Oh, an assassin. How exciting! I read a book about assassins once, you know. Sounds like our host needs a few heroes!"
She does her best to fix her heel, then takes off looking for an animal to interrogate. Maybe the mice saw something the other guests might have missed?
No sooner than Orthos can ask his question, Salbadore rolls back over and hits the floor on his hands and knees.
"huu-WAUGH!"
Immediately he horks up something nasty and black.
"Gurgle."
Still wide-eyed and weak, Salbadore lolls his head to the side and bobs it around - oh, er . . . he's actually trying to nod or something. His lips are moving. Yeah, he's kinda fucked up.
"I'm . . . fine. I need some water."
Orthos steps back from Salbadore to protect his shoes. "I'll uh, see if I can find some water for you Dorey."
Dame Harrowsong moves gracefully across the floor towards Lord Grimrune. "What an interesting party so far. Any plans for catching your little party crasher?"
Duke Ivor Youngblood strides forward as well. "Aye Lord Virgis, let's have at this assassin and be done with it. I prefer to celebrate without constantly glancing over my shoulder, or sniffing at my wine for poison."
The Devil Tamer nods. "Well, I suppose I could use magic to determine the identity of the assassin, but where's the sport in that? What fun is a birthday celebration without a good game? And do we truly deserve to be considered the wisest magi in the land if we cannot use our minds to solve this puzzle?"
"I propose that we use our talents to look for clues. As the assassin's identity becomes more clear, and the noose begins to tighten around his or her neck, I expect the killer will reveal him- or herself through some desperate action or other."
"Lord Grimrune is right! We should meet the challenge that the assassin has issued! Here! I have the proverbial gauntlet."
It is none other than Lord Segon Quentachi, the Arch Enchanter, and he is holding a needle up to the light. He squints and examines it.
"Too bad that there is nothing personalized about a needle . . ."
He smiles. How nice he is to look at - Or how frustrated and ugly does he make you feel?
". . . or is there? Surely the Dame Harrowsong" - smile!, dash!, glimmer! - "can reveal a little something about this instrument?"
"That sounds like a challenge," says Lord Plutus, walking before the crowd, making his presense known, "And Lord Plutus never backs down from a challenge!" Lord Plutus is dressed in his finest, though his choice of attire seem almost out of place. His chainmail glimmers with an unnatural shine, and his swordarm never lingers long away from his jeweled blade at his side. He casts a discerning eye around those gathered, looking at guests as if he were sizing up a foe. His deep baritone voice reverberates and echoes off the walls as he continues. "What I can say is this assassin is a coward! His... or her attack relied solely off of luck and chance, and not mettle and strength!" He practically shouts the last few words.
"oh, Joresi's blood . . ." you can hear Segon Quentachi's enthusiasm melt as Plutus makes his entry. "Lord Plutus."
The high evocateur awaits the High Evoker's polite greeting before continuing. "I take it that your stunning talents will be applied in an unexplosive manner until the Dame Harrowsong can tell us a bit about our would-be assassin."
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