((Necro, for the sake of continuity (if the Dragon's Den is ever accepted) I'll be changing Yvainne out with Ryth. http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/220 ))

((If dragons end takes place before this I can't participate, partially since I made some references to Scarlets identity, and I don't know when my issue will be resolved.))

(Hell. Why not.

Think you can include High Summoner Draken Frosthand, Count of Coldthorn, in your guest list?)

((Let's not worry about the time line))

The storm nearly stalls your travels, but you arrive just as the heavy typhoon lands. The Scarlet Maid greets you with a smile and sweetness, and a wide umbrella. The interior of the manor is warm and well lit, a relief from the driving rain outside.

The three unusual servants stand at attention and wait on the guests, the lady of the manor already retiring. The Actress Alexa Wales is mingling with a few of the noble guests, a sight of beauty among old men. The buffet table is still filled, but the banker Von Siemens is helping himself heartily to the beer.

The host has yet to show himself, but the Scarlet Maid goes around and tells the guests to enjoy themselves and mingle, as Necromonger was getting dressed.

"Please be reminded that violence shall be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly, and that any unwelcome use of magic shall be dealt with by the house maid with the glasses over there."

Schewing his more usual mantle (with crawling things hidden within) and regally aged wardrobe for a newer and more formal attire, Draken has taken the time since his arrival to deeply entrance a couple of noxian barons with old tales of the northern front.

Hunger slowly bit at his consciousness as Cinadon made his way to the buffet table, helping himself to some eagerly awaited food. Taking moderate, yet polite, portions of a few different dishes he made his way to an unoccupied section of wall.

As he leaned against the wall he began to practice one of his favorite hobbies, people watching. Watching the crowd mingle with one another was interesting, and it provided ample entertainment while he started in on his plate of food.

Azrael had never felt completely comfortable at such occasions - especially when he knew almost no one in attendance. Though familiar with their reputations, he doubted that could be a reliable conversational gambit with many of the guests. This argument hadn't done him much good when the invitation came, however. Sabryna had insisted that this was a perfect networking opportunity - a more subtle way to accumulate influence than just winning matches. She was right, he had been forced to admit. What was the point of having a lieutenant if not for good advice? His agreement had come under the condition that she accompany him - though at the last minute her sister had taken ill and she had been called home to Piltover.

Nodding to the hostess, the Angel of Death wondered yet again what he was doing here.

Remwald approached the manor with suspicion, being a skeleton he had wondered the reason he was invited but he trudged on into the doorway and as he entered he observed all the other guests with his hood pulled low.

Deadeye sulked around in the shadows, not bothering to make contact with the other guests. Even though this event was supposed to be a joyous one, he wore the typical black cloak and clothing as always, seeming to ward away anyone who was observant enough to notice his presence.

Frankly, Deadeye didn't really care for social events such as these, it usually meant talking to people and anyone who has met him even once would know how he detests company. Only the idea of learning something from one of the other guests kept him there, otherwise he wouldn't have even come.

Passing by one of the new maids, he wondered if Necromonger has decided to hire human help for this major event. There were certainly new faces here, but knowing Necromonger's skills as a conjurer made Deadeye a little more cautious than usual.

As regally as she could, Ryth walked through the large doors of the Wong Estate, the umbrella that was being held over her was quickly closed as she crossed the threshold. Her servant, clad in black remained outside. Ryth smiled sweetly at anyone that addressed her and returned their greetings with the same politeness. She was not dressed in her usual battle garb; tonight she was dressed in a split white pink dress and her skull shoulder pads had been removed entirely. Speaking of skulls, her talking staff and her blade was left back at the Leanora Manor as well. Tonight was not the night to show off her odd style, but rather to celebrate the New Lunar Year.

The woman continued to weave through the crowd, often stopping to chat or to laugh at some joke or another. This was her life, living amongst the rich and royal even though she did not have a single Valor in her name. Ryth stopped once more, covered her mouth, and laughed as a politician of some kind rambled on about something that was supposed to be funny. As she continued to weave in and out of conversations, Ryth noticed some odd individuals at the party- the silent types who either thought they were too good to mingle in with people, or the introverted type who had no place being at such a festive celebration. In a quick scan she spotted two people with hoods one, one was clearly not human. Though the other one was harder to spot, Ryth’s dark magic was able to locate him, a cloaked man that was obviously watching the crowd. She smirked and dived into the mass of people again.

“You sure do have a lot of those quiet types,” She said as she caught up with the red headed Butler. Ryth gestured towards the three people in the room that were “people-watching”.