Shadows over Sigil - The Eternal Boundary

The New Cycle Celebration

"The New Cycle begins! Do not miss the event at the beginning of the year! The Festival of Sixteen Mephits! Alzor, the Gehennan dretch-swallower! Where? At the Civic Festhall, of course! The Lower Planar Circus and the Blue Jay await you! Admission is only five stingers - free entry for all Sensates and the clergy of Pan and Lliira! The Celebration of the New Cycle! As every year in the Festhall!"

Sensates barker

Third Guild Day of Regula, 126 HR

Factol Erin stood in the foyer of the newly renovated Ren Hall, watching contentedly as guests streamed into the theater. A well-dressed satyr in a fine blue frock coat caught her eye, gallantly leading a satyra with light fur and honey-colored hair on his arm. What a lovely couple. And there, that was Aram Oakwright, the deputy of factol Rowan Darkwood. Well, she could well do without the Duke himself. She was not angry with him for sending only his deputy. Then a woman approached her from the side, whose presence she appreciated all the more. Her red hair was pinned up that evening, which was rather rare. Normally Bria wore it open, just as her clothing was otherwise kept very simple. The bard was one of the unofficial leaders of the Free League and a gifted instrument maker. Erin greeted her with a friendly hug.

"Bria! How lovely to see you. I'm glad you found your way here tonight."

"For one of your fests, anytime," the bard replied with a laugh, looking at the guests streaming into the hall. "Really, Erin, I'm very excited to see what you've come up with this time."

"I'm sure it will be unforgettable," replied the factol of the Sensates. "Just like every time."

She noticed a less pleased expression on Bria's face and followed the bard's gaze. She glanced at Ely Cromlich, deputy to factol Pentar, who was standing near.

"Hm," she remarked unenthusiastically. "There's quite a few people there of distinction ..."

"The Festhall is open to all," Erin explained diplomatically. She understood Bria's distaste for the cambion. She herself didn't care much for the Sinker either. But her personal feelings were one thing. The Sensates' function as the faction that provided amusements for all of Sigil's inhabitants was another.

The cambion probably took Bria's look as an invitation to come over. Cromlich's direct descent from an incubus was clearly evident, both in his distinctly attractive features and the somber aura that surrounded him. He bowed deeply to Erin.

"Ely," she greeted as politely as she could. She was good at pretending, which was an advantage in her office. "I'm glad you're here."

The cambion kissed the hand she held out to him, holding it a little too long for her liking. His smile could in no way be called anything but insinuating. "Pentar regrets that she cannot be here," he explained.

"Yes, quite unfortunate," Bria remarked unenthused.

Ely's gaze now wandered over to the bard, whom he had so far ignored completely. "Oh Bria, you're here too," he noted with a grin. "I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed you next to Erin."

"I could have lived with that," Bria replied dryly.

She only slightly quirked her mouth, but Erin possessed excellent judgement of character, so she could tell that Ely's spiteful comment had struck her nonetheless. She was annoyed with the cambion. Such behavior was simply inappropriate.

"Ely," she therefore retorted with a quiet rebuke. "Who will start such a beautiful evening with such barbs?"

"Barbs?" Cromlich's grin was nothing less than openly provocative. "But, Lady Erin, what barbs? From me? You must be joking."