Aliss was a little nervous. Although she didn't know it, she wasn't the only one, albeit for completely different reasons.

The ballroom was a decadent one, draped in gold and silver with ornate statues of long-dead heroes and legends crammed into every available corner. The crystalline chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and just dripping obscene wealth still made her as uncomfortable as when she was a child, and it didn't help that their candles were made from unmeltable scorbe wax. Just how expensive did this whole thing have to be?

She was well aware that the whole thing was hosted in her honor, despite the fact that she'd requested otherwise. Somehow, she'd been convinced into wearing a dress, a puffy debacle of white lace and pink frills that hid her hard-earned physique from casual view. After quite possibly the most thorough bath of her life, her hair had been done up in a deviously crafted bun of curls and twists that she had to admit did look rather pretty. She'd been against the whole thing, but of course, her mother had ensured that she would be encased in the constricting clothing. She wasn't even allowed to bring her shield!

Well, she'd technically stolen the shield, but it felt like hers.

Her mood was disrupted by Galbaer approaching, and she smiled tiredly at him. "Hey, Dad. How are you doing?" He was looking dapper in a navy suit, one that accepted his ridiculously broad shoulders and dense musculature. Even his hair, normally messed up and all over the place in an explosion of curls, had been painstakingly combed flat, the front rising nicely.

He shivered, leaning down to whisper. "Aliss, I'm afraid for my life. These nobles might bore me to death in mere minutes." She snorted in an extremely unladylike fashion, and he added, "Tell my wife I loved her."

Shaking her head, Aliss asked, "Hey, Doom's probably going to spice it up. Who knows what he's going to wear to this thing?" When Galbaer had informed her that the terrifying soldier had agreed to come to the ball, she hadn't been able to help wondering what he looked like without all that armor on. She didn't even have a mental picture - she'd met Doom when he was covered in armor, she'd ripped a demon's head off its shoulders while he was covered in armor, and she'd introduced him to her father (albeit quite violently) when he was covered in armor. At this point, it was nigh impossible to imagine him without it.

Another figure approached, and Aliss' expression darkened. The woman walking stiffly towards them had an enviable figure, curves in all the right places and in moderate proportion. Her sharp cheekbones accented her haughty green eyes, and her blond hair was done in curls, looping around her swan-like neck. Gently and expertly waving a fan at her face, she stopped near them. "Hello, Aliss. Hello, darling."

Galbaer winced slightly. If she noticed, she didn't make it clear. "Hello, Erin dear. How are you finding the party?"

Erin's lidded eyes drooped in disgust. "Horrifying. How can they bring themselves to come to a ball looking like this?" She gestured to the unreasonably attractive people assembled, a large variety of the incredibly rich and famously political milling about and making polite conversation. There was a wide, open area where the nobles stiffly danced, a group of musicians looking more bored than even Galbaer playing their instruments with irritated precision.

Aliss muttered under her breath, "I think they look fine."

Erin's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. Most people wouldn't have even noticed, but Aliss and Galbaer were extremely familiar with her moods and barely avoided flinching. "Well, of course you'd think their appearance was suitable. Compared to-" She gestured to Aliss' outfit with a lip curled in disdain. "-all of that, they certainly do look quite nice."

Galbaer kept his eyes downcast and Aliss stared her mother in the eye, forcing the rising tears to stop before Erin would have more ammunition. Why was she so intimidating? She'd rather face down demons than talk with her own mother.

The awkward conversation was effectively sidelined as a page by the glorious entrance cleared his throat, calling in a rather nervous voice, "Presenting guest to the Kingdom and personal acquaintance of Aliss Candor, daughter to the Royal Champion. Please welcome the... his name is Doom." Looking down at his card, he galnced up and added hesitantly, "And guest." He stepped aside, swallowing hard, and Aliss looked over expectantly.

Her expectations were blown away. Doom walked into the ballroom still wearing his blood-covered armor. He hadn't washed it, he hadn't polished it - he hadn't done a thing to his armor. The only difference from his normal appearance was a loose, red bow-tie wrapped around his neck. Next to him, Daisy loped along, looking incredibly uncomfortable in a tight pair of shorts and a casual shirt.

Turning, Aliss nearly laughed as she saw her mother's face rapidly turning beet-red. Facing Aliss, Erin hissed, "What in the Pantheon's name is that supposed to be!?"

With Doom's exceptionally violent presence nearby, Aliss was feeling quite a bit more bloodlust than usual. It gave her confidence she hadn't had a few minutes ago. "That's Doom. He spent a week in Hell and wiped out a whole city of demons by himself. Want to go and have a chat?"

Erin huffed furiously. "I certainly do."

Lifting the skirts of her dress, Erin made her way over to Doom, and Aliss and Galbaer followed cheerfully. Pulling Galbaer down, Aliss whispered into his ear, "This is gonna be interesting."

Galbaer nodded in mild trepidation. "We may want to call the Guard over here."

Doom glanced over with an unreadable expression, and Erin paused in front of him, folding her arms. "How dare you-" She blanched as the smell of stale blood and spilled intestines hit her, and continued after some retching. "How dare you wear this - this obscenity of a uniform? Have you no shame? And you!" She pointed at Daisy, and the Lepori flinched. "What madness must have descended upon you that would make you bring a slave to an event such as this!?"

There was a short moment where Erin glared at Doom, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and Doom looked back at her, his visor an emotionless mask. Finally, he reached an arm out, placed it on Erin's shoulder and leaned in. She stared at the offending hand in obvious disgust, exclaiming, "Do not touch me, you-"

"Daisy is not a slave."

His voice rumbled throughout the ballroom and made the ceramic floor vibrate unsteadily. A few people fell over, and most of them looked over at the source of the disturbance, their skin an unhealthy pallor of fear.

Erin's face was as pale as bone, the anger distilled and purged from her system to be replaced by pure terror. She started trembling like a leaf in a strong wind, and whispered, "She is - she is-" She was struggling to utter the words, their mere definitions going against everything the pompous woman held close to her heart.

Finally, she gasped, "Your sla- Daisy is welcome here. Enjoy... enjoy the party."

Doom patted her shoulder pleasantly and straightened, striding past her. Daisy kept Doom's considerable bulk between her and Erin the whole time, and only when they were twenty feet away did she begin to relax.

Aliss and Galbaer were nearly in tears. Nobody had talked back to Erin Candor in a long while, and of all people to try and publicly shame, Erin had gone for one of the few people who didn't give a crap about his reputation.

Unnoticed by them, Erin's face began to color in hatred once again. With a snap of her fingers, she called a servant over and whispered into his ear, "Get me my diabolist. And tell him I need an assassin. Preferably an imp - something that won't go noticed."

The servant nodded professionally. He'd been attending to Erin's political machinations for a very long time, and he knew that her contact in Hell would be more than happy to get rid of anyone who she didn't like.

This Doom person?

He was as good as dead.