Asmara Surana
Asmara shifted uncomfortably in her gown. Though much, much simpler and less ornate than what most of the other women were wearing, it was still far more than she was used to in terms of both delicacy and expense. All the silk and velvet... it made her feel a little silly.
She stuck rather close to her group as they advanced past the introductions and headed into the ballroom proper. Asmara wondered how people like Lady Blodwyn and Ser Sev ever dealt with things like this on a regular basis; her hair kind of hurt, piled on top of her head with so many sharp pins like it was, and though the gown was sort of like a really long robe, it felt like it might tear or something at the slightest provocation. She tried to move as delicately as possible and remain light on her feet, though whether this was for the sake of the garment or simply a reflection of her nerves, she could not say.
She had to keep reminding herself that she was supposed to be a servant, too. It was a bit strange, that some people had a job simply doing whatever other people wanted them to do. She'd never really been exposed to it before; the closest she'd come was the occasional merchant with a servant, and she'd always thought those were apprentices or something.
Then there was all the looking. People seemed to constantly be sizing each other up or something, and some of them weren't even trying to hide it. It was strange; she was used to people glaring at her, but this was a bit different again. Luckily, most of them eventually probably decided she wasn't all that interesting, because every time she met someone's eyes, they moved on.
"Um..." she began, looking to Antius, Gann, and Merle, "What are we supposed to do now?"
Tiaryn Ormet
Tiaryn brushed invisible lint from her own ensemble and glanced around warily. She hated crowds, truly. She didn't much like the Ferelden way of doing things, either; why were all the servants elven? She would have much rather gone into this thing as a servant herself; a common guise in her line of work, but apparently that was so inconceivable that she'd been forced to make an irritatingly-movement-impaired spectacle of herself by wearing a bloody dress, of all things. How was she supposed to remain inconspicuous like this? How many of these silly nobles were visibly scarred and as unsociable as she was? Well, at least it was black; better to blend later, if she needed to.
Her gaze flicked to Ryuu, looking rather uncomfortable, and then to the rest of the crowd. She might have questioned the wisdom of his choice in vestry, but then she was never the sort of assassin he was, so he probably knew something she did not. Instead, she took in as much as possible, memorizing the layout of the room and the more permanent furnishings, things that would not change at a moment's notice.
The man named Jasper must have sensed her unease, because he offered to take care of the socialization, which she readily agreed to with a grateful nod. That was surprisingly considerate, and upon observation, she figured it was also very wise. He clearly knew what he was doing, and was soon hosting a rather large group of the wealthy and landed, though she noted somewhat wryly that the vast majority of his listeners were women. That figured.
She did not spot anyone matching the description of Teyrn Loghain, which was mildly disconcerting, but if Tiaryn could be said to possess any of the characteristics most often known as virtues, it would be patience. She would watch, and she would wait for the signal to move. At least the damned dress allowed for the concealment of many of her favorite trade tools.