Chapter 85: The Grand Masquerade
Max owned more suits than any reasonable Dungeon Master needed. That did not stop him from buying another one.
The new suit was black with dark silver stitching along the cuffs and collar. The thread only became visible when the light struck it, forming a pattern of small masks. A half-mask of polished black wood waited beside it on the bed.
Max adjusted one cuff and looked toward the other side of the room.
Anna stood before the mirror while fastening an earring. Her gown was deep blue, lightening toward silver near the hem. The sleeves left her shoulders uncovered, and a narrow line of crystal beads followed the edge of the fabric. Her mask matched the dress rather than Max’s suit. Silver leaves curved around her eyes and disappeared into her hair.
Max forgot about his cuff.
Anna saw him in the mirror. "Is something wrong?"
"No."
"You have been staring for almost a minute."
"I am married to an extremely beautiful woman. I am allowed to stare occasionally."
She turned from the mirror. "Occasionally?"
"Frequently."
"Better."
Max crossed the room and offered his arm. "Mrs. Clarkson, would you accompany me to the first Grand Masquerade?"
Anna slipped her hand through his elbow. "Are we going as Dungeon Master and assistant?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then what are we?"
"A husband taking his wife somewhere expensive."
"You own the castle."
"That makes it extremely expensive."
Anna laughed and picked up her small evening bag. Her clipboard remained on the desk.
They could have opened a portal directly into Masquerade Castle. Max chose a carriage instead.
The gnomes had built several for the event, each pulled by small brass horses that moved without drivers. Max and Anna rode along the lake before climbing the road toward the castle. Formal lanterns illuminated the gardens. Music drifted from the open windows, and masked adventurers crossed the bridge in parties of five.
For one evening, Max intended to let the gnomes run what they had spent all week preparing.
King Giston waited at the top of the castle steps.
His tailcoat had finally been shortened. Silver buttons ran down the front, and his crown rested above a white powdered wig that made the entire improvement questionable.
"Dungeon Master. Lady Dungeon Master." Giston bowed.
Anna returned the greeting. "You look very distinguished."
Giston looked toward Max. "Your wife understands formalwear."
"My wife is kind."
"That as well."
Gnome attendants opened the doors.
The entrance hall had transformed since Max’s inspection. Hundreds of candles floated near the ceiling. Flowers covered the railings, and musicians played from the gallery above the ballroom. Every gnome working the event wore appropriate clothing. Waiters carried silver trays while dressed in tiny black suits. Doormen wore blue coats with gold braid. The gnome guards had exchanged ordinary equipment for formal uniforms and coils of enchanted red ribbon.
Human dungeon inhabitants populated the celebration without appearing to work there.
They wore masks and elaborate clothing as nobles, courtiers, ambassadors, wealthy collectors, household members, and visiting officials. Some carried items that were the assigned targets of certain parties. Others possessed information, keys, grudges, or convincing lies. Their roles would change at future events, but tonight they formed the court surrounding the first set of contracts.
Giston climbed onto a small platform at the ballroom entrance.
"Honored guests, dishonest guests, and those who have not decided which they are!"
The room quieted.
"The Grand Masquerade will begin at the nine and conclude at midnight. Registered parties may obtain their assigned target by any method that does not violate Sanctuary protections. You may deceive the castle’s inhabitants. You may deceive other parties. You may offer alliances that you have no intention of honoring. It is entirely up to you."
Several adventurers looked toward their neighbors.
"You may not attack, restrain, or directly rob another participant. If a member of castle security places an arrest ribbon upon you, please report to the holding cells immediately."
A hand rose near the back. "What if we do not report?"
Giston smiled and motioned for a guard to place a red ribbon on the curious guest.
The adventurer vanished from the ballroom and reappeared behind the decorative bars of a holding cell displayed through a viewing mirror.
Laughter spread through the guests. The embarrassed adventurer returned a moment later.
"The ribbon reports for you." Giston explained. "At midnight, every team with its assigned target outside the castle succeeds. A perfect success requires all five members to be free and present at extraction. Any team carrying the wrong target may keep the embarrassment but not the object."
Nine clear chimes rang through the castle.
"Enjoy the party."
Music resumed.
Registered teams did not immediately scatter toward the doors. That would have revealed too much. They joined the celebration, accepted drinks, and pretended not to watch one another.
Max escorted Anna toward the ballroom floor.
"You are supposed to wait until after dinner to dance." She said.
"I am the Dungeon Master."
"I thought we were not attending as Dungeon Master and assistant."
"Then I am an impatient husband." He said as he placed an arm around her waist.
That explanation proved acceptable. They joined the first dance while the heists began around them.
Mira entered between Garrick and Brakka.
Her dress was dark green and modest enough to satisfy her grandfather. A simple golden mask concealed the gray lines nearest her eyes without hiding her identity from anyone who knew her. Garrick wore formal clothing that made him appear uncomfortable every time he moved his shoulders.
The dwarves had rejected tailcoats. Brakka, Doff, and Pell wore polished leather coats over ceremonial mail. Their masks had been shaped like sections of airship plating.
Garrick carried nothing large enough to contain the replica Thornwood Reliquary. Doff carried a square case disguised as a musician’s stool.
Finding Lady Varene took nearly half an hour. The contract provided her name but no portrait, and every noble in the ballroom wore a mask. Garrick questioned servants while Mira listened for titles.
Eventually, a courtier bowed to a woman wearing a red gown and a black feathered mask.
"Lady Varene, the ambassador is waiting beside the northern fountain."
Mira touched Garrick’s sleeve. They had found their target’s owner.
"Lady Varene is beside the northern fountain." Mira whispered to the dwarves.
Brakka did not look. "Does she have the box?"
"No."
"Then we ask where it is."
Garrick caught the back of his coat. "We do not ask a woman where she keeps the thing we plan to steal."
"We could ask someone else." Pell suggested.
"That is still asking."
Mira studied Lady Varene from across the room. Two guests competed for her attention. A gnome waiter remained close enough to replace her empty glass the moment she set it down.
"The contract said she refuses to display what is inside." Mira said. "It did not say she refuses to talk about the box."
Garrick looked down at her. "What are you thinking?"
"Collectors like telling people why their collections are important."
Brakka grinned. "So...now we ask?"
They approached as a group interested in rare woodwork rather than thieves searching for a target.
Garrick did most of the talking. He complimented the carved paneling in the ballroom, criticized a repair so subtly that Lady Varene had to look twice to find it, and allowed her to correct him about the origin of the castle’s darkwood furniture.
Mira listened. Lady Varene eventually mentioned the reliquary herself.
"Thornwood cannot be properly appreciated beneath ballroom lights." She explained. "The carving appears crude until moonlight touches it."
"A preservation oil?" Garrick asked.
"A family treatment. The reliquary remains in my apartments, I can’t travel without it since it needs treatment almost daily to maintain its condition."
She had given them a location.
Brakka opened his mouth. Garrick stepped on his boot before the dwarf could ask which room.
Across the ballroom, Max turned Anna through the final step of the dance.
"Mira’s team found their target wing." Anna said.
"You were watching?"
"I can dance and watch."
"I was distracted."
"By the thieves?"
"By my lovely wife." He said while holding her close
Anna smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder as they slow dance.
After the next song they left the dance floor for dinner.
Gnome waiters guided them to a balcony table overlooking the ballroom. Max had reserved it without placing his name on the card, but the gnomes still bowed every time they passed. He eventually ordered them to treat the table like any other.
The next waiter bowed before agreeing.
Below them, an adventurer wearing a gold mask passed a folded note to one of the castle’s ambassadors. Another party watched the exchange from behind a carved screen. A third member quietly removed a key that had been left on the ambassador’s table.
The key did not belong to either party’s target.
Neither group knew that yet.
"Are you happy with it?" Anna asked, referring to the latest attraction he had set up.
Max looked across the ballroom.
He had built the castle and written the rules. He knew where every passage led and which objects the Core had assigned. None of that allowed him to predict what hundreds of people would do once they shared the same space.
A warrior in formal white clothing crossed the floor while carrying a potted tree. Three gnome guards followed him, demanding to know why he had removed it from the conservatory.
"Very." Max answered with a smile on his lips.
Mira’s team reached the western gallery through the public stairs.
They were not alone.
Lucien stood near a locked door with four Academy students. His formal robes were dark gray, and his silver mask carried the crest of Valewick in miniature. He held one hand close to the lock while a faint strand of light moved across its surface.
Mira stopped when she noticed him
Lucien noticed her team and allowed the light to disappear.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Brakka looked between them. "Do you know each other?"
"I have seen him at the Academy." Mira said.
Lucien nodded. "You are Lady Clarkson’s friend."
"Anna’s friend."
"That is what I said."
It was not, but Mira did not argue.
Lucien’s teammates watched the hallway behind them. "We require access to the upper gallery." He said.
"So do we."
"The lock is warded. Breaking it sounds an alarm."
Mira looked at the door and then at the wall beside it.
The paneling continued across both surfaces. One section near the floor had been polished less than the rest. A narrow scratch curved around the baseboard.
She crouched.
"This door opens outward."
Lucien frowned. "The hinges are on the opposite side."
"That is a false door." Mira pointed toward the scratch. "Something else opens here."
Garrick examined the panel and found a concealed latch beneath the molding. It did not move.
Lucien knelt beside them. He extended one finger and created the same narrow thread of light. There was enough power behind the spell to be useful and little enough that it did not spill light across the wall and signal everyone to look in their direction.
The light entered the gap around the latch and illuminated a second catch hidden inside.
"Can you move it?" Mira asked.
Lucien’s jaw tightened. A stronger spell would have shattered the wood and alerted every guard in the wing.
He reduced the light until it was no thicker than a hair.
The hidden catch lifted. Part of the wall opened silently.
Lucien looked satisfied, but not triumphant. "Observation located the entrance. Magic opened it."
"That means we both get to use it." Mira said.
"Agreed."
The two teams entered the passage before separating at the stairs. Lucien went upward with the Academy students. Mira never learned what his target was.
He never asked about hers.
The interaction lasted less than five minutes and saved both parties far more time.
The western apartments were arranged around a private sitting room. Two human nobles played cards beside the fire. A gnome servant stood near Lady Varene’s door.
Pell whispered. "We need a distraction."
Brakka stepped into the sitting room before anyone could stop him.
"I have been informed that the woodwork in this wing is fraudulent!"
Every head turned towards him. Garrick closed his eyes and stifled a sigh.
Brakka continued. "Someone has stained common oak and called it blackwood. I demand an inspection."
One of the card players rose, personally offended by the accusation rose and prepared to teach this big talking dwarf a thing or two. The gnome servant hurried toward the argument.
Doff and Pell followed Brakka as supposed experts. Within seconds, all three dwarves were debating grain patterns with two nobles and a gnome who had no intention of allowing anyone to remove a portion of the crown molding on the wall for inspection.
Mira and Garrick entered Lady Varene’s apartment.
The Thornwood Reliquary rested beneath a glass cover beside the window.
Moonlight from the castle’s enchanted sky touched its carvings. The dark vines appeared to move across the surface.
Garrick removed the replica from Doff’s stool case.
At first glance, the two boxes matched. Mira looked closer.
"The thorns are wrong."
"I copied the image."
"The image was wrong."
The genuine reliquary had seven thorns on both sides. The contract image had shown six on the right.
Garrick exhaled. "Misleading information."
They could not re-carve the replica inside the room.
Mira turned it around.
The back of the genuine box faced the wall. Nobody examining it through the glass would see both sides at once.
"Put the incorrect side toward the window."
Garrick looked at her, then at the box.
"That will work until someone moves it."
"We only need it to work until midnight or until we can get out."
He opened the glass cover and exchanged the reliquaries.
The moment Garrick lifted the genuine target, bells rang through the western wing.
They froze. But it was not their alarm.
Another team had attempted to remove a jeweled crown from the upper gallery and triggered a ward. Gnome guards closed the public stairs. Doors throughout the western wing locked at once.
Every party in the area suffered the consequences of being caught in a lock down.
Mira and Garrick returned to the sitting room. Brakka’s argument had grown to include three more guests and a second gnome servant.
"We have it." Mira whispered.
"Excellent." Brakka announced loudly. "These panels are genuine after all."
The offended nobles did not find his sudden change convincing.
The team withdrew through the concealed passage before the guards arrived.
They found Lucien and his Academy party waiting at the lower end. The route back to the ballroom had been sealed.
Lucien looked at the case Garrick carried but did not ask.
Mira pointed downward. "The servants’ lift connects to the kitchens."
"How do you know?"
"The ropes run through the wall."
Lucien glanced once at the ceiling and saw them. "Then we use the lift."
He directed that answer to his own team rather than continuing the conversation. The two parties moved separately.
The servants’ lift was designed for trays, laundry, and one gnome at a time.
It was not designed for three dwarves, a carpenter, a teenager, and a stolen reliquary.
Brakka considered that a challenge.
They lowered Mira and the target first. Garrick followed. The dwarves climbed down the ropes rather than waiting for the platform to return.
They emerged into the kitchen among forty gnome cooks.
Nobody stopped working.
One chef pointed toward the service exit with a wooden spoon. "Participants are not permitted to remain in food preparation areas for health and safety reasons."
"Thank you." Mira said.
They crossed the kitchen before the guards could arrive.
The main ballroom had become less orderly.
One team had convinced half the human nobles that an impostor attended the party. Three innocent participants were being questioned. A gnome guard chased an adventurer carrying six unrelated keys. Another party had formed a temporary alliance around the eastern stairs and was charging information rather than money for passage.
Near the center of the room, five heavily armored warriors carried an eight-foot portrait of a former king.
They weren’t even trying to hide it.
Two wore white gloves and walked backward. Another rang a small handbell while shouting, "Emergency restoration! Clear the path!"
A human courtier followed them, insisting that nobody had authorized the removal.
The party leader produced a paper covered in seals. The courtier quickly read it and became uncertain.
The forged order did not authorize anything. It requested an inspection of possible mold behind the frame. The warriors had interpreted the request generously.
Gnome guards hesitated long enough for the portrait to cross the ballroom.
Max watched from the balcony as it passed beneath him.
"Largest object stolen." He said.
Anna set down her glass. "It is not outside yet."
The portrait caught against the main doors. All five warriors lifted together, rotated the frame sideways, and carried it across the bridge.
Their contract seals flashed green.
"Now it is." Anna agreed.
The final hour passed quickly.
Mira’s team avoided the main entrance because guards were inspecting every large case. They crossed the gardens and reached a smaller extraction arch near the hedge maze.
A rival party had found the same exit and blocked the path by convincing the garden staff that dangerous insects had infested the hedge.
Brakka offered them a trade: the location of an unguarded wine-cellar entrance in exchange for passage. The information had been true before the western alarm. It might still be true.
The rival party accepted.
Mira, Garrick, Brakka, Doff, and Pell crossed the extraction arch together.
[Silver contract completed.]
[Target: Thornwood Reliquary.]
[All five members present.]
[Perfect success.]
The genuine reliquary disappeared from Garrick’s hands and returned to the castle’s reset inventory. A decorative wooden token appeared in its place.
Mira smiled so widely that Garrick forgot to object when Brakka lifted her onto one of his shoulder.
The midnight bell sounded.
Every remaining target returned to its original location. Captured participants appeared in the entrance hall. Giston took the platform again while gnome clerks collected the results.
More than half the registered teams had failed.
Enough had succeeded that nobody could claim the attraction belonged to one class. That had been one of Max’s concerns. He worried that this was tailor made for stealth class and to hard for everyone else. But he had found a goo dbalance and it looked like the adventurers were satisfied as well.
The first completed contracts included a hidden ring, a warded document, the Thornwood Reliquary, a ceremonial helmet, a silver serving tray, and the enormous portrait.
One party had reached extraction carrying an object assigned to someone else. Both teams wanted credit. Neither received it.
Another had successfully persuaded its target’s owner to gift them the item, only to be arrested while crossing the ballroom because a different team had accused them of theft.
The Hall of Achievements quietly added its new records. There was no Sanctuary-wide announcement. Anyone interested could visit and read them after the event.
Giston announced only the evening’s successful contracts and invited everyone to register for the following week.
Max and Anna remained after most adventurers left.
The gnomes cleared tables while the human court changed out of their costumes. Musicians played one final quiet song from the gallery.
Max held out his hand.
"One more dance?"
Anna looked at the nearly empty ballroom. "The event is over."
"The date is not."
She placed her hand in his.
They danced beneath the floating candles while gnome waiters carried away the last trays. Max did not open his Dungeon Master menu and Anna’s clipboard remained at home.
For the length of one song, Crag Dungeon did not need its Dungeon Master or his assistant.
It only contained a happy husband and wife.