The annual Carnival of Adkarna festival thrown by the city's elite originated as a celebration of Maliken Grimm's victory over the Savages and thereby uniting all of Man under his banner. The tradition has continued long after Grimm's betrayal of the Legion, as humans can justify nearly any reason to don disguises and engage in highly questionable behavior, and the Carnival has morphed into a vague celebration of Man's perseverance over general misery and anguish. Among the lavish private parties thrown every year, the one hosted by the ridiculously wealthy merchant Volto is considered the best, and the nobles cannot recall a time when attendance at Volto's masquerade ball wasn't absolutely required to maintain top social status. They cannot recall that time, because it never existed. Volto was there at the very first Carnival, and he is among the most insidious sort of daemon -- the sort who blends in perfectly with his prey and caters to their wants, needs, desires, and egos, making them feel like royalty among their peers just by sparing a moment to chat with them at his luxurious ball.
But every year, for a small, select group -- those targeted for their influence in various aspects of the Legion -- that chat leads to a whisper, a beckoning to deeper chambers for a more private encounter, and only there does Volto reveal his true form with daemonic zeal. And while the hapless nobles targeted for assassination are torn apart by Volto's claws, their friends and family continue to drink his wine, eat his food, and revel in the debauchery of the annual Carnival of Adkarna.
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