A grand ball was being hosted by the sorceress Ambrose, from the sunrise of the last day of the month, to the sunrise of the next. She hosted these parties every month, and people from all walks of life were invited. The only rules were to be polite, and to always keep on a mask. Anything besides those were fair game.

Despite all the riffraff attracted to this taste of high-end society, this didn't mean the rich ignored these parties. Ambrose was incredibly powerful, if her lavish parties were anything to go by. Politicians, lords, and studying mages flocked to get a chance at meeting the woman of the hour.

And that leaves you. Standing in front of Ambrose's manor. Guests filter inside, walking around you like a river flowing around a rock.

"Mama, are you sure we should go? My friends said that last time they went, the witch lady got angry at someone and took away their-"

"Shhh, she could hear you!" A lady in a plain brown dress covered the mouth of her child, looking around frantically. "Dear, I know you don't want to go, but I need your help to carry food so we can eat next week. I'll let you bring home as much dessert as you can hold if you help me. Now come on-" Grabbing onto her kid's wrist, she yanked him inside the manor.

Suddenly, a man stumbles out of the darkness. His suit is mismatched, tattered in some spots while being covered with glitter and gold in others. "My face, my face.." He whimpers, covering an eye and reaching around aimlessly.

The man then lunges at you, grabbing at your clothes. "YOU! Have you seen my face?! You must have, you must have!" Now that he's up close, you can see the reason for his screaming- his visage was completely gone. Not like it was ripped off- his eyes and mouth were warped and blurred beyond recognition. "That witch- she stole my face! It must be around here somewhere!" He begins patting you down, almost shaking at some points.

"Traveller, I beg of you-" He grasps onto your arms with a grip of iron. "Help me! Do not trust that witch!"