A Single Nail
It's a dark and blurry night, the air thick with wet snow, though at least it is not windy. The Monastery is at least recognizable against the backdrop of grey and white.
Inside, the atmosphere is cheerful, the residents and visitors enjoying a hearty stew and dark ale. Further inside the Monastery, Simon's door stands open, the smell of something delicious wafting out on the air.
Simony hums a little tune to herself, hopping lightly from foot to foot while rattling a pan back and forth on the stove, a little apron wrapped around her, and a blue bandana covering her bald head.
There's no dramatic thunderclap, no whirling portal snapping open to announce Telamon's arrival. The ward against teleportation and summoning in Alexandria still holds, after all. But that doesn't mean Telamon is bound to endure the snowdrifts. He rides down from the skies, on a horse that looks like it was made from smoke-filled glass, and its hooves make no sound as it settles there in the courtyard.
Casually, Telamon levers himself off, gesturing as he does -- and the phantom shadow-steed dissipates into wisps of smoke, as the archmage ambles up to the monastery. The door-wardens recognize him, of course -- he's hard to miss -- and open the door for the elegant half-sil. Dressed in a ruffled white silk shirt over his black riding trousers and boots, with a broad brimmed hat and white cloak to cover him from the snow.
Handing the hat and cloak off to be hung in the visitor's cloakroom, Telamon simply follows the path he's taken a few times before. Whistling to himself, as his pace leads him to Simony's cell, standing open. "That's a good sign," he murmurs to himself, before rapping at the doorframe.
"Knock knock? Are you taking visitors, Temperance? I have apples, if that helps." His starry eyes glint with mischief, but kindness as well.
The little gasp of surprise and the rush to toss herself into a hug around Telamon's waist is indeed a good sign of the Temperance's temperament.
"Telamon! Come in come in!" One of his hands is corralled by her and she tugs him gently towards one of her chairs. "I am just making some curry chicken over rice. Would you like to try some? And I have tea steeping, just plain ol' black tea, but it'll be hot and sweet. I've fresh honey to add to it."
Simony goes back to shaking the pan back and forth, even daring to flick the food into the air, catching it in the pan without spillage. "How have you been? And how are Pothy and Cor'lana?"
Telamon expects the hug, of course. And he doesn't mind, returning the favor, before letting Simony lead him in. "To answer the important question first: Lana and Pothy are well. Pothy, of course, is Pothy, but I have kept him quite happy with an array of treats I picked up in Am'shere. Being able to go anywhere has its benefits. And Lana sends her affection, as always. We're going to the Desolation soon, but Sir Seldan and Verna want to chase down some last leads before we do so."
Telamon takes a breath, drawing in the scent of curry chicken. "Hmm. How hot did you make it? I've never been much for very spicy food -- and Lana even less so." He can't help but chuckle. "We're just not cut out for Mictlan-style dining. But tea would be wonderful. The weather outside is unpleasant."
"It's only mildly spicy. You should feel nice and warm, even though you don't feel the cold much." Simony ponders for a moment. "Why don't I just put it onto one plate, and you can share some of it. If you only have a few bites, that's fine. Or half the plate, that's good also." The tea she pours right away, setting a cup before him, and another for her. A small pitcher filled with warmed honey is also set within hand's reach. A bit more fussing with the pan is had, before she pours the contents out onto a plate. Utensils are set for two, and the Goblin finally settles down on a chair with a sigh.
"It is good to hear that you are all well. Uhm. So no word yet from my deity's servant, but I did get some information on how the wards of the dungeon were shattered. And determined the cause of death of the guard, one who we suspected was working with the fiend." Her expression grows sad quite quickly. "I am tired of opening people up, at this point."
"That sounds like a proper plan." Telamon takes a cup of tea, adding a little honey in and stirring before watching Simony set up her little dinner. "Pothy would be properly impressed by your work. And then he'd eat all of it, but that's Pothy for you."
At the mention of more serious matters, the genial expression on Tel's face fades a bit into something more focused. "Alright, -that- sounds like something I need to hear about. Especially if I'm going to be restoring those wards. We're supposed to be getting some reagents in for the work in a day or two and I don't want them wasted if some fiend can just undo my work again." His eyebrows shoot up. "...He's dead? Hrm... well, fiends aren't known for having good retirement plans for their mortal tools. What happened?"
"He was young and healthy. And died of heart failure. Very likely, magically-induced fear caused it.", she says softly. "The wards were destroyed by a simple nail, which, when tapped into the dungeon, somewhere... allowed a connection the fiend could use. It basically allowed a means for magic to leak into the dungeon. Harkashan asked the corpse questions, and it gave answers. So uhm. Something you need to stress to the management of the place.. absolutely nothing gets in aside from the guards, and guests. No bits of metal, no weapons, no scraps of paper, nothing. And you have to make sure no one understands how it got broken."
Telamon narrows his eyes, listening. "It couldn't have been just an ordinary nail. It had to have been ritually prepared first, to serve as a link to the fiend. Hmm... I wonder..." He takes a bite of the curry chicken, and it's a testament to his intense concentration that he doesn't even react to the heat at first. Suddenly he shakes his head. "I'll talk to you later about that. Right now... yes. We'll have to emphasize to the wardens that -nobody- can bring -anything- in. Certainly not without going under divinations. They'll still need to feed the inmates, and care for them."
He sits back in his chair, scowling. "Clever. Very clever, damn that fiend. And yes, it's possible to die from fright. There are spells which can kill a person from sheer terror." His eyes soften. "I'm sorry for how you've had to deal with this. Would that I could do more to help."
The Goblin nods. "Oh yes, I think we all expected that part, but the deceased guard, he had no idea. Probably part of the weaseling the fiend did. How much harm could a little nail do? Quite a bit, as we have seen." She cants her head slightly, "Talk about what?"
Simony gestures with a hand. "I'll get past it in time. The shock was quite a heavy hit. If my hair wasn't already white, I might have had some grey hairs from this." Chuckling, she lets out a little sigh. "It is much easier to perform surgery when you've the proper tools. It is much less traumatic."
Telamon hehs. "Indeed. Ask any conjurer -- lay a single straw across a circle, and you'll break it. Magic can be notoriously finicky about things." He exhales, sitting back, and starts to say something. Then stops, tilting his head in that way he tends to do when Lana is talking to him. He frowns, but then nods slightly.
"So, a while back, Lana and I had some, how shall we say, family difficulties with her side of the family. Namely, her stepmother turned out to be a malevolent bitch who kidnapped Lana and almost murdered her before myself, and several friends, chased her down. Both her stepmother, and her evil half-elf crony, were imprisoned." Tel's lips quirk. "The Mythwood high-security prisons are even better, I'd wager, at holding onto inmates than the Arcanists'. But somehow, her stepmother was murdered and her crony escaped... for a time, until Dolan led several adventurers to hunt him down and exterminate him."
"I've wondered how that son of a bitch escaped. We know he had some contact with the Corpse-Eater. I wonder if the Corpse-Eater knew that trick with the nail as well?"
The mention of Corpse-Eater, the Goblin shivers. "What if this fiend... IS Corpse-Eater?" The thought is voiced before she can cover her mouth.
"It would be.. astounding that all three events would be tied together like that. But.. did not the Corpse-Eater play the long game? Perhaps this being his longest yet? He might be having a laugh at our expense even now."
Telamon shakes his head. "For all his power, the Corpse-Eater was also possessed of intense egotism as well as a focus on sating his own hungers -- both for flesh, and for the ruination of love and happiness. This doesn't strike me as his style, and it'd require him to, you know, actually get smeared by us first."
He sits back in his chair. "No, this feels too different. I don't buy that it's Legus'elain. But I -could- believe he or his minion had passed the trick on to someone else." He sighs. "I've never found out exactly -how- Karan'taara broke out. We figured he had help, but even my father couldn't get a lot of details. And the death of Lana's stepmother kicked off a -huge- political hornet's nest, too."
Simony leans forward and pats his hand gently. "I am sorry that yourself and Lana had to endure that. Though I expect that both have risen to the challenge, and those that have pushed you have found out the hard way that you push back, and you don't play for anything but all the marbles."
She sips daintily at her tea then, and spends a moment sweetening it with a generous helping of honey.
"I uhm I like to make connections that seem unlikely. I see patterns that aren't always patterns. But from time to time, I'm correct. The rest of the time, it's just an interesting what-if, you know?"
Telamon offers Simony a smile. "It's in the past," he says simply. "Ainasse is dead. Karan'taara is dead. Legus'elain is dead. I take no pleasure in it, but I won't tolerate anyone threatening my wife, or my family. Not now, not -ever-."
With that, he takes a sip of tea as well. "I mean, there -might- be a connection. It's not a bad idea to keep such things on the table, as it were -- father likes to call it 'rattling the dice in the cup', to see what might shake loose. Just don't start seeing connections where there aren't any -- and remember that the other side is dangerous, but they are rarely infallible."
The Goblin offers up her own, cheeky smile. "Hmm, hopefully future foils will be students of history and realize that those who have crossed that line have all met the same fate. A one way trip through Vardama's Grey Halls. And some of them, nudge nudge wink wink disintegrate... didn't have anything remotely desirable to bury."
She tilts her head left and right, vertebrae in her neck cracking. "And those that do think they have the upper hand, somehow, find out that your friends are of like mind and just as energetic about it. Oh!" She stands, visibly excited and runs to where a warhammer hangs from a clothes-hook on the wall. She returns with it... "This is... Fiend-masher!"
<OOC> Telamon says, "Rolling to inform pose." GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (8)+26: 34 <OOC> Telamon thinks that's enough to ID it.
Telamon snorts. "We can only hope. And that's why I teach -ethics- at the University. With any luck, my lessons will sink into their skulls and they'll think before they do something foolish, dangerous, or nasty." He shakes his head. "Well, we'll see. I hope they go on to be good, at least."
Tel's eyebrows rise as Simony hops up and returns with the well-crafted warhammer. "Fiend-masher, hm? Moving up from spiders, I see." His eyes scan the hammer, the starry light within brightening before he blinks. "I've seen that before... oh. OH! It's like Andelena's sword, you can channel divine energy through it." He grins. "That will be a -potent- weapon in your hands, Simony."
The weapon is held out for Telamon to inspect, and after his mention of moving up, she grins toothily. "Oh, this will still mash spiders, make no mistake." Simony holds the weapon aloft, and calls upon her deity's favor, directing the energy into the warhammer. It begins to burn with a silvery flame.
"I am so happy I could afford this. One more tool I can use to fight evil demons and other fiends. I can draw hope from its silvery flames, and light the way."
She offers it up to him then, handle first. "Want to see how it feels in your hand? It's probably a bit small for you, and that's an understatement..."
"And I never did take up swordplay. Father considered it, but when my talent emerged, he opted to get me magical training." Telamon carefully takes the hammer in his hands, turning it over, studying it more. "Cold iron, too. Gods, fiends are going to -hate- facing you with this thing in your hands. Evil fey as well." His eyes twinkle. "It may not be my forte, Simony, but it gives me great comfort to know you have this weapon. It might make all the difference against your prey."
He passes the hammer back to Simony. "I know the Chalice has some 'in's' with instructors for blade and bow, but I've never taken advantage of it. Honestly, maybe I should. I've worried a bit about what I can do if my magic fails me."
"Well, to be honest, Telamon, clerics are often the last line of defense in a Temple. So we get some training on physical weapons. It helps also that divine magic is not as sensitive to armor, especially metal, than arcane. While that doesn't preclude you using a hammer or dagger, not having a thick protective covering makes melee a dangerous affair for wizards and sorcerers."
Her grin is bright and cheery then. "I would be happy to offer instruction on the use of a warhammer. You might damage your kitchen finery, but you can't cut yourself on a hammer."
<OOC> Simony says, "Also, you might enjoy THUD WHACK instead of SKRRRCH."
Telamon chuckles. "I'll bet you would. But honestly, I don't think I'm much of a hammer type anyways. I kind of wish I'd taken up the rapier like father, but... ah well." He muses. "I know Verna carries a pistol. Perhaps I should look into that -- it'd be a useful surprise if I needed it."
He laughs softly. "And as protection goes, I do have some powerful defensive magics -- force walls, invisibility, conjured defenses, even taking flight can be very effective if the opposition can't get to you."
"Oh, she's into dragonspitters? I... I could help there, also." She looks away briefly. "It's a Goblin thing, perhaps we like them a bit too much." Simony nods, "But a useful surprise is always good. It's what Fiend-smasher is meant to be, a surprise. I want to make them fear what comes in small packages, you know? Pay them back a little for the terror they've instilled in me, at times. With a fire that they will feel, fire and cold steel."
"And that is part of arcane magic's greatness. It's flexibility. So many ways to do things."
"Evidently. Surprised me too, but Verna has always been... hm. Sensible. She knows she's not the most physically powerful of people, so she makes up for it with potent magic -- and as she puts it, a nasty surprise when she draws that 'spitter out." Telamon takes another bite of curry chicken, and points his fork at it. "This is quite good, you know. Not enough heat to make me wince. Can I get the recipe?"
"In any case, I do not love sorcery for its uses in battle but in what I can do with it to help others. Saving lives. I suppose that makes you and I a lot more alike than we might think -- we're both about preserving life, just in different ways."
The Goblin is surprised at his request for the recipe, and she scrabbles to find it, studiously writing it out in flowing Sildanyari. Obviously showing off in more ways than one. The little index card is handed over, with her flipping it over to show the back. In fine printing, she offers directions to stores in Goblintown, to find the 'authentic' spices.
"Just to note, to get the nice amount of fire, use half of the the roasted hot peppers in the curry. You can also lower the heat further by simply cooking the chicken with any normal recipe you have, instead of using spices on it.
She sighs then. "Telamon, if only you knew how much I love your powerful, destructive spells. If I went home and obliterated some bad guy with that meteor storm one... I would be queen and all of my people would fear me." Her little laugh is almost worthy of a penny-dreadful's main antagonist. Clearing her throat, she smiles brightly. "But I have chosen a different path. Our ways are similar. You use your magics to prevent harm in the first place, I simply put blood and body parts back where they belong."
Telamon takes the card, examining it with a slight grin before tucking it away. "Thank you. I'll probably go very light on the heat -- Lana's not known for enjoying spicy food, and I'm not much better -- but I think she'll appreciate this."
"There's something to be said for big and flashy -- and gods know, sometimes you have to do just that." He smirks. "But meteors are best used for things like inconvenient fortifications, or rampaging evil dragons. I really don't like rearranging the local geography that way unless I have to." His expression changes a bit, becomes somber. "Or other forms of magic... just as lethal, but less... disruptive to the area."
"Maybe you don't realize, but I am... odd, for a Goblin. It takes a lot to suppress certain desires. Flashy, noisy, fiery spells are always the perfect spell for all occasions, Telamon. Subtlety is .. kind of frowned upon, at least, until you've demonstrated that you carry a big stick that's loud, and instills that primal fear." Simony chuckles. "It's why I was very excited to watch you show off, even that really scary one that made them shut down the testing site for a while. It's the only place I can see those spells I wish I could throw around."
The Goblin pauses then. "Though, I am looking forward to my studies. There is a spell that will allow me to become taller than even you. I mean, twice ass tall and wide as I am now... and do you know the area to volume equation, double the area, triple the weight. And! It also makes my weapons bigger. I am going to go from a little terror to a big one!"
"And I was brought up learning that subtlety could be just as effective as being overt." Telamon grins at Simony. "Guess it's just the differences in how we grew up. No harm done, really. It's good to keep one's surprises under wraps... and then unleash them when someone isn't expecting it."
He laughs softly at the mental image of a Simony that dwarfs him. "Now -that- will be a sight to see, Simony. And I'm sure there will be many evildoers who will be very -unhappy- to see such a sight -- right before your hammer sends them on, quite overtly."
He raises his teacup. "So here's to you, standing tall -- even if you have to do it with magic."