[right][h3][b][i][color=FFBCD9]Miss Creme[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=FFBCD9]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=FFBCD9][i][b]Location: [/b][/i][/color]Lunar Ballroom
[color=FFBCD9][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
[color=FFBCD9][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color]  3
[color=FFBCD9]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]
Listening to the lord of the manor speak, Creme's hands drifted up towards her mask .That was exactly the type of authorization she was waiting for. She felt a lot safer going mask-less, especially given that whoever was blackmailing them seemed to not be the lord. Her hands pulled it away from her face, making her appearance apparent for the world to see. She slipped the mask into the purse on her person, and closed it tight. This situation did, however, open the fairly disconcerting question. If Lord Bardolf wasn't responsible for them being here, who was? The question lingered on her mind like a lily pad atop a murky pond.

She assumed, however, that the line of demarcation between the early arrivals and other guests that now would never arrive. She thought it a healthy assumption that they were all being blackmailed. This all seemed to be an odd series of events, but no matter what circumstances had led her here, it seemed she would be here for awhile. Standing up, she decided now might be the time to stretch her legs, and further her knowledge of the place she'd be stuck in. She wanted to maybe see if anybody else wanted to take a look around, but she still didn't want to get close to that loud fellow, so she watched the others in the room, planning to follow if anybody left.