THE PREPARATIONS FOR THE ROYAL BALL were laden in the streets of Calipsos. Nary could one wander a few yards with his wits not bedazzled by the vibrant colors painting the coves and corners of the capital. Vivid veils of spun silk hung down the high archs of numerous Estates across the realm.
It was opulent, lordly, and stately.
A chance for the high-ranking Houses of nobility to show their splendor and for ambitious ones to raise their profile to a more hallowed position. Of course House Cranmer was in the lead of this festive occasion, with it's billowy red banners of antlers hanging down over one-fourth of the entire city of Calipsos.
Lord Geralt Cranmer singlehandedly owned a part of the capital. It was a luscious lump of cake carved out by himself for his greedy hands. Many Barons of lower estates secretly wished the old Lord would just slump and die. Perhaps, in the coming festivities he would choke on his wine and drop dead.
