A Soiree

The food is excellent. Fresh meat and prelapsarian vegetables, grown under glass. Starchy tubers fried to perfection. The table drink is a dry Feyish red, its tart flavours offering a perfect counterpoint to the understated sauce.

The Food refreshes you.

{if Health = 5} Your Health is now 5 – Preternatural {elseif@ Health = 4 }Your Health is now 4 – Unharmed {endif}

{if Health = 5} [NOTE: You are above your maximum health. It will decay in time.] {endif}

The company, crowding the airy room, does not quite reach the same heights. The Titan is as jovial as ever but exceedingly preoccupied with his food. And his daughters do seem nice. But his other guests, invited as dinner company for the three young women, make for tiring conversation. Two, sallow faces dressed in stuffy suits, share his interests in the stock exchange but not his quiet elan for superb dining. You learn more about commodity trading than you ever deemed possible – or indeed desirable. The third, a Landlocked Commodore, works at the Naval Headquarters and shares your disinterest in bonds and other commercial papers. His dark glances and occasional remarks furthermore reveal an intense dislike of the others.

{if The One-Eyed Captain’s Health = 0} A lull in the conversation leads you to divulge your feelings about the dangers posed by pirates, and the Titan and his daughters – though sympathetic – are eager to learn all the macabre details. You hesitate, but their insistence causes you to share. The memories are fresh, but the talking does actually help some. {else} You use a lull in the conversation to hint at your encounter with the Sea of Mist’s most dreadful pirates, and the Titan and his daughters are quick to urge you to elaborate. {endif} The two drabbest gentlemen seem rather uninterested in turn, but all others are well entertained. Even the Landlocked Commodore pauses his frowning long enough to share some theoretical insights, no doubt gleaned from his work. His overall mood, however, does not improve.

The Cerulean Libertine, the Titan’s youngest daughter, and the Commodore’s dinner companion, may be the reason. She is a lovely sight, better dressed than her sisters, in her dark-blue dress that reveals more than it conceals. Her reputation is known – even to you, and her surreptitious touches favour all three men in equal measure. She acts interested in your tale – and innocent enough – but her dainty foot, freed from an elegant leather sandal, moves under the table and sneaks up your leg. You close out your story with some exaggerated heroics, and she rewards your gallantry by reaching your groin.

The Cerulean Usurer, the middle daughter, raises an eyebrow at the noticeable pause, then smirks. One of the soporific gentlemen, her assigned companion, opines on the cost of piracy for the shipping and insurance business. Her smile widens as she corrects his errors of fact and arithmetic in curt words. The Titan rewards her with a proud smile, and her suitor slinks back into his chair. She has done so before and each time her smug smile and straightened posture transformed the petite and reserved bean-counter, dressed in sensible browns, into a dazzling figure. More haughty, more prideful – and more alluring.

The oldest sister, the Cerulean Maven, has followed your tale with obvious interest, but she has not spoken a single word all evening. Her dress is a complex construction, frills and laces and stitching all around the neck. Darkest black and snowy white, a cut which has not been in fashion during your lifetimes. She has finished her food and, ignored by her own drab companion, regards you with an unreadable expression. A hint of sadness, or maybe spite. She takes classes at Heron College – that much you know – but she displays none of the fiery wit, of the oratory bordering on agitation, her school and classmates are famous for. You offer her a polite smile, and she answers by blushing in the cutest red.

Dessert, fresh fruits and too-sweet custard, is served and quickly eaten. The Cerulean Titan magnanimously orders you to stay a while longer, and the other gentlemen too take advantage of an unspoken invitation. You are offered a cigar and a fresh glass of Grain Whisky. The Titan makes a toast, and then the company separates. You stay behind in the dining room, enjoying the rare treats and pondering your next step.