The sound of a small brass gone brought the revelry and the dim of conversation down low. A masked crier stepped forward, his costume bearing the detail and the marks of a sage of ancient Hellas.<br/><br/>“It is one hours time until the Sun shall renew the vows of life within the walls of the palace, and guests all, you have decided to join us here. For whatever reason, plot or plan, you are with us, and tonight we have prepared for you something of a treat. For the next hour you will be entertained…”<br/><br/>The man’s voice was a rich bass that rolled through the room, demanding attention. Even Gravon had trouble resisting its call as he searched for the costume that had eluded him moments before.  Little did he know his opposite in house and skill waited on the far side of the room. As Gravon searched the crier continued.<br/><br/>“It is the commandment of blessed Elua that we love as we will. For some, this is a beautiful act full of passion and pleasure. But many of us are aware, that without pain, we do not know pleasure’s worth. Without sacrifice and suffering we can never truly understand the grace and blessing of our pleasure. To this end we have Mandrake among us…”<br/><br/>At those words Gravon’ head spun towards the speaker and several of the guest paused and looked amongst themselves. More than a few eyes turned towards his darkened figure but he made no move. There was no mention of such a display in his speaking with his patron earlier. Gravon stood there, doing his best to act like everyone else, waiting for the crier to continue with his announcement, knowing somehow that he was not finished with his speech.<br/>