Blood Soaked Revel
Twenty-Ninth Day of the Eight Month 292 AC
You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, the old saying goes. The dregs of the Tyroshi fleet that make their home in Westheaven are alike enough to insects that thrive in corruption to make it particularly apt for them, though sweet wine and sweeter words mixed in with the bitter when the wine is done shall have to substitute for honey.
Rather than returning to the Deep, you and your companions remain in Westheaven, the better to keep an eye on Azema. It is not so much treachery you fear, for she seems to be enjoying herself while maintaining a healthy respect of your power, but carelessness in the face of impending triumph. The plots of demons often stumble thus. The rooms you take are comfortable enough, the cost barely worth mentioning. Ironically absenting yourself from your fief and its constant calls on your time have seen you progress handily in penning a new code of laws, though there is still a great deal of work ahead of you.
Meanwhile Tyene has been getting the measure of the town, walking among highborn and low under the cover of a glamor, dragging Waymar along "for protection" she says. You suspect she is more concerned with teaching the young Valeman the darker side of life to take the edge off his inflexible idealism... and perhaps another purpose, though you would not presume to guess the mind of Tyene Sand in such matters. Though she enjoys to shock and startle, to play up the part of the Red Viper's bastard daughter, Tyene is very discreet about the true inclinations of her own heart. Both your friends seem cheerful enough when they return from their walks, so you find no reason to meddle.
***
At last the hour draws near as the sun begins to set on the day Azema set for the festival. Oak barrels are disgorged from the Admiral's private warehouse to the cheers of freemen. With the wine comes food of a common in abundance: breads and cheeses, sausages and other common though filling fare. The three inns in town open their gates and flute music begins to float through the window, owing more to enthusiasm than skill.
"Should we go out for a closer look?" Waymar asks from beside you at the window, sounding far less enthused at the notion than most boys of four-and-ten would be.
"No, I think we can trust the good people of Westheaven to debauch themselves without supervision," you deadpan, drawing a smile from Ser Richard and a snort of laughter from Tyene.
Waymar nods, relived, then asks, "Azema...?"
"Has promised not to kill anyone as part of the festivities," you finish. "That is about the best one can expect in truth."
The four of you keep watch and await the second hour of the morning when you are to give Dany and the pech the signal begin blocking off the harbor... but then at midnight something strange begins to happen: the music coming from the darkened streets changes, growing at once more beautiful and more savage. The beat of the drums is in time with your heart, faster and faster. The voice of the flutes like your breath begins to come in gasps.
You want to... No!
Shaking off the insidious enchantment you look around at your friends, happy to see that none of them has succumbed. Indeed, Ser Richard does not seem to even have noticed, though you can read the same anger and alarm mirrored in Waymar and Tyene's eyes. "Fuck!" the Dornishwoman curses.
"That seems ill-advised," you quip back automatically. "Something is infesting the revelry below with the power to ensnare minds. I do not think..."
You are cut off as one of the barrels rolled out into the street in front of your inn begins to burn with leaping flame. The glaring light ofthe fire revels that one of the women dancing in the street is more than she appears. Leaping and dancing with inhuman grace, her mad smile reveals sharp predatory teeth. The dark red stains on her dress are not wine, you know with grim certainty:
Maenad, the memories of another life whisper. A harbinger of madness, gluttony, and cannibalism.
Why... how? The questions circle your mind, but you push them aside. For now they do no matter. You must save the town before it rips itself apart in an orgy of madness and violence.
What to you do?
[] Hurry to the Admiral's House. From a cursory look the chaos may have started there
[] Split up and hunt down the Maenads as quickly as possible, saving as many lives as posibile
[] Hunt the Maenads as a group
[] Write in
OOC: Zagreus is one of the titles of a rather well known Greek god: Dionysus.