So far, not much could be said for the ritual, except that they had hors devours. He ate slightly more than was polite (it was free, after all), and did his best to keep out of the way. There was no one here he wanted to talk to. Though to be honest, there were very few people in the known universe he wanted to talk to.<br/><br/>That wasn’t to say that he didn’t recognize faces - didn’t recognize<em>most</em>faces, in fact. One or two previous clients (who avoided eye contact – his services were seldom associated with anything savory). Most faces he recognized distantly as notable figures within the city. The usual assortment of titles and pedigrees, but a few more interesting additions, as well. A delicate-looking elf who he knew to have concocted an innovative new healing potion for the city’s clerics. Ta’sar, an elegant, crafty noble who had turned up on the tail end of more than one sex scandal Ingram investigated. A famed poet with a residency in the floating city. A handsome man with light eyes and lighter hair who Ingram believed to have been involved in some altercation on the king’s behalf, serving minced ruffian in the underdark. The name and details escaped him.<br/><br/>It wasn’t that Ingram cared much. Or cared at all. However, he was in the business of knowing things, so knowing was a thing he tried to do. And an event like this was never a bad place to learn more. He stayed alert as he ate fancy finger food in the cool night air, always on the lookout for new information, new observations. But lips weren’t very loose tonight (too formal). With nothing of much interest down among the mortals, he found his eyes returning again and again to the king and his entourage. Found himself looking at Qaizel’s unreasonably perfect features.<br/><br/>A mysterious figure with an unknown past, and unknown agenda. It was only baseless intuition, but something about Qaizel struck him as…notable. He had seen enough to know that if something looks too good to be true, it is, and Qaizel looked better than anything he’d ever seen. He wouldn't mind knowing more about him, and he wouldn't be surprised if the king didn't like what he found.<br/><br/>He was relieved when the king shepherded the group downstairs. It wasn’t that Ingram didn’t like parties – it was just that Ingram hated parties. He had done his part by showing up. Now all he wanted was to get back to a quiet room and a stiff drink.<br/><br/>His apathy faded as they entered the circular chamber. The room was shockingly beautiful, and thick with an air of reverent expectation. He crouched down absently, tracing one of the runes with his finger before wandering deeper into the cavern. He forgot to blend in, to slip into the corners with ears sharp and eyes open. Instead he found himself craning his neck unabashedly toward the crystal-encrusted ceiling, soaking in the atmosphere. Maybe the ritual would be worth-watching, after all.<br/>