After wrangling with his loose shoelaces for about two minutes, Drustan Cynwrig made his grand entrance at long last. And by "grand", I mean nobody noticed him, because the crowd of Imperials had already arrived en masse and he was but a single man. A massive, ripped, ginger mercenary man with a nice axe, but one man nonetheless.
Anyways, upon his fabulous arrival, Drustan stepped aside the doors and surveyed the crowd. His eyes washed over the ballroom, where couples twirled round and round in grand patterns (some of which he recognized from the book he bought), dressed in nothing but the most exquisitly crafted suits and gowns. The musicians as well were nothing short of dapper, crafting a lovely symphony that Drustan was sure stemmed from a drinking song somewhere. He started moving now, being sure to get a good look at where the food was on display. Drustan didn't even know that many of the colors delicately splattered over the table were edible until now. Lastly (but not least based on the size of the damn crowd there) was the place where the alcoholic beverages were being administered.
While it was true that Drustan first headed to the bar, he also wanted to get away from it as soon as possible. Tensions were already high due to the large concentration of irritable ruffians, and the liberal application of alcohol was doing anything but helping. Drustan dove in, giving small, polite greetings to his crewmates there, before catching the tender's attention as soon as possible. The large mercenary quickly received what he requested, a shot of quality whiskey in a morbidly ornate shot glass, and Drustan tipped the man semi-generously before downing it and backing away, eager to get away from a group of staring Neobeduins who were all wearing eerily similar masks.
On his exodus out of the alcohol-infused gathering, Drustan strode over closer to where the food was being served. Sufficiently loosened up by the whiskey, Drustan began to scan the room again, this time looking for someone of the fairer sex (preferably of Neovictorian descent) imbibed enough to politely agree to dance with him. His chances were slim, though, as the large congregation of ruffians surrounding the watering hole had driven many other non-ruffians away, and no rational and sober person would willingly accept Drustan's invitation to dance.
Anyways, upon his fabulous arrival, Drustan stepped aside the doors and surveyed the crowd. His eyes washed over the ballroom, where couples twirled round and round in grand patterns (some of which he recognized from the book he bought), dressed in nothing but the most exquisitly crafted suits and gowns. The musicians as well were nothing short of dapper, crafting a lovely symphony that Drustan was sure stemmed from a drinking song somewhere. He started moving now, being sure to get a good look at where the food was on display. Drustan didn't even know that many of the colors delicately splattered over the table were edible until now. Lastly (but not least based on the size of the damn crowd there) was the place where the alcoholic beverages were being administered.
While it was true that Drustan first headed to the bar, he also wanted to get away from it as soon as possible. Tensions were already high due to the large concentration of irritable ruffians, and the liberal application of alcohol was doing anything but helping. Drustan dove in, giving small, polite greetings to his crewmates there, before catching the tender's attention as soon as possible. The large mercenary quickly received what he requested, a shot of quality whiskey in a morbidly ornate shot glass, and Drustan tipped the man semi-generously before downing it and backing away, eager to get away from a group of staring Neobeduins who were all wearing eerily similar masks.
On his exodus out of the alcohol-infused gathering, Drustan strode over closer to where the food was being served. Sufficiently loosened up by the whiskey, Drustan began to scan the room again, this time looking for someone of the fairer sex (preferably of Neovictorian descent) imbibed enough to politely agree to dance with him. His chances were slim, though, as the large congregation of ruffians surrounding the watering hole had driven many other non-ruffians away, and no rational and sober person would willingly accept Drustan's invitation to dance.