Sensing an opportunity, Valena takes Erica by the arm and half-drags her to the railing. “Look who’s just arrived! The stars of the evening!” she announces cheerfully. She pulls Erica towards one of the staircases, descending arm-in-arm with her. The other guests in the ballroom gather in a semicircle about the staircase, and enthusiastic applause greets each of you as you descend. The observant will note that Lady Alana and Lord Lucas are at opposite ends of the semicircle, and are studiously avoiding looking at each other.<br/><br/><div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>Lady Alana is smiling politely with her hands clasped in front of her dress, the very picture of cultured civility. Next to her is one of the serving staff, with two bouquets of white roses in his arms. Once Brigitte and Sharell have descended to the dance floor, Alana takes the bouquets from the servant and presents one to each of them. “Congratulations on your brilliant performances. I always have roses for my favourite of the evening, and both of you were so exquisite that I simply couldn’t decide between you. So here we are, one for each of you.”<br/><br/><div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>Alana has cut off Lord Lucas, who was approaching Brigitte and about to speak to her. He appears to fume silently for a moment, gritting his teeth, and instead maneuvers towards Erica. “Well met. Sunshine, I believe? You have a deft touch. I was impressed. I practice sleight-of-hand on occasion, and while I could follow you at first, I soon gave up and just enjoyed your act. Tell me, what master of the art did you learn from? And do they offer lessons?"<br/><br/><div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>Before Alizeh can do much of anything, the blonde elf with ribbons in her hair glides in front of her. She has a heart-shaped face and large, expressive eyes that at the moment are showing interest or curiosity. The side slit of her dress shows an almost immodest amount of shapely leg. “A star shines on the hour of our meeting,” she says, giving a traditional greeting in Elvish. “I am Ianora of the Cloakwood elves.”<br/><br/>The dark-haired elf with silver moon ornaments in her hair joins them. Her silver dress ripples like it is woven from water and moonlight. “And I am Nimuel, also of the Cloakwood elves. I had not heard the poetry of our people before in translation. It was a unique experience that I will always treasure.” Her blue gaze is solemn, as is her tone; she does not appear to favor showing strong emotions.<br/><br/><div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>Mara finds that Lord Whitburn has moved to greet her. He is an older man with salt and pepper hair, elegant in a dark suit. The impression is like a kindly grandfather - or perhaps that’s how he wishes the world to see him. “Well met. Allow me to congratulate you, my dear. It’s just a shame about the timber - it looked to be a sturdy piece. I’m in the construction business, you see. At present, business is good. So good in fact, that I have an opportunity that I’ve been saving for the right person. Or persons. Should you and your troupe be looking for opportunities beyond the Eye, I have a proposal that just might interest you.”<br/><br/><div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>Henry feels a tug at his sleeve. Next to him is a Calishite woman in an off the shoulder peasant blouse and long skirt. She looks out of place in comparison to the other women in their elaborate dresses, but she doesn’t appear to mind. “I saw your act.” A small, teasing grin appears on her face. “You were awful. Truly, awful. But not as awful as I was two weeks ago. I got tangled in my silks, plunged into the orchestra pit, and landed on the harpsichord. Not only did I break it, but I broke the musician’s finger and twisted my ankle. Luckily there were clerics present, but you should have seen the look on everyone’s faces. It was horrible. Later came the laughter, and then the article in the Times... the point is, you aren’t the only one who’s had a bad night.”<br/><br/>She takes a coin from a purse at her waist and holds it up for Henry to inspect. The coin has two heads. On one side, a smiling Tymora. On the other, a leering Beshaba. “Congratulations. You’re now a member of the Lonely Performer’s Club. You’re in good company, about a quarter of the regulars at the Eye are with us. You’ve had the Maid’s misfortune, so perhaps it’s time for the Lady’s luck to smile on you. Keep this with you and perhaps you’ll see. And when the next hapless soul flubs a line or takes a fall, pass it along to them.” She hands the coin to Henry.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>DM's Note:</strong>If Henry has the coin on him during his next performance at the Eye, he will have advantage on both rolls.