Vardello Motley

A pale pine mannequin stands on a brass turntable in a candlelit workshop, and it has nothing to wear. Twenty-four masked balls run across the season, and each one posts a dress code: two colours it wants, one trim it demands, one trim it will not forgive, the pegs you have to fill, and a ceiling on how much splendour the room can stand. Dress the figure, present it, and the guests strike anywhere from no bells to five. Restraint counts as well. A ball that asks for plum and brass will not thank you for wearing everything you own. Costume is never bought here, because there is no shop and no currency with real money behind it. Cloth is won at the Jester's Table, where a row of masked figures hides exactly one character and sworn statements narrow the field. Cross out what the slips rule out on the deduction grid, circle what they confirm, then name a single figure. Every table is proved before it is dealt, so one answer always exists and the clues alone are enough to reach it. Forty-two pieces sit across seven pegs: masks, plumes, ruffs, suits, gauntlets, staves and backdrops. After each ball an itemised verdict shows exactly how the room counted, penalties included. Everything runs offline, with no adverts, no purchases and no account.