In which there is tea

It's raining today, and it's not a pleasant sort of rain. It blows in and people bow their heads against it. They hurry a little quicker to be out from beneath it. In fact there aren't terribly many people out at all. Most have stayed home rather than venture out into the rainy day. Not so for one darkly robed figure sitting beneath the awning to the temple of Daeus. Even from a distance one can tell it is a sith-makar, and that's partially because Zeke has his hood pulled down. He's safe after all from the elements save the occasional bout of stray wind that splashes him with rain. Zeke doesn't seem to mind this however. He simply sits there and drinks from a large mug of steaming liquid that's more than likely tea of some variation.

Geir is also somewhat impervious to rain, but only due to him wearing a heavy, hooded cloak. He clanks a little, as his scale mail always rattles a little as he walks. The copper-scale is traveling down the mountain road, and begins to cross the large square that the tempers are situated around, and he stops to ponder the fountain for a time.

As Geir stops at the fountain Zeke spots him and with a slow motion rises to his feet leaving the cup of tea resting on the stairs where it is. Zeke stands there for a moment considering something. Considering greeting Geir from where he is, or going briefly out into the rain. Then he steps out into the cold. Zeke's steps are careful as he moves out toward the fountain, his drink looking forlorn behind him. "Peasce on your nessst Geir." He says the greeting smoothly and with welcome behind it.

The copper-scale turns slowly, his expression brightening, and he gestures to Zeke. "Ah, peace on your nesst." He looks to where Zeke is coming from, and gestures to the mug. "It is good to see you once more. Let us get out of the rain, yes? One should dress more warmly for this sort of weather." Geir will slow to a stop near Zeke, and await him leading the copper-scale back to his comfortable place to settle.

Zeke's tail wags subtly and he makes his slow careful way back to the mug. He stops there and looks around briefly, realizing that he has nothing to give to Geir to drink and looks suddenly a touch embarrassed. "Thisss one hass no tea to sshare. Perhapss we sshould go insside?" He tilts his head at the other sith-makar, willing to do whatever would make Geir happier.

Geir gestures to the ground, and slowly begins to ease himself down. "One is ssatiated still from the morning meal. Tea can be sshared later, perhapss over dinner? Enjoy your tea without guilt or embarrasssment." The copper-scale breaths deeply and looks to Zeke. "How are you faring? Holding up under the weight of the plague?"

The blue-scaled sith eases himself down perhaps even more slowly than does Geir himself. Partially for the sake of keeping his limbs covered, and partially for other reasons. He settles down beside his cup of tea and rests his right hand over it, looking off into the distance as Geir speaks to him. It's not rudeness, but rather that he finds it comforting. This way he does not have to watch Geir watching him. Even so the other sith remains on the edges of his vision. Always there. "Thiss one would be pleassed to sshare food with you, though there may be little time for it later unlesss you intend to return to the Ssoldier'ss Defensse. Thisss one isss fine. Othersss do not do sso well. Thisss one hass heard however that there wasss a copper-sscale at the riot lassst night." Now Zeke is looking at Geir, a clever twinkle in his green eyes.

The copper-scale nods, looking down momentarily, and then up again, dropping into their shared, ancient language "Sharing food would be enjoyable, and one would certainly return to the Soldier's Defense. They do good work, and one is pleased to lend assistance." Geir ducks his head down again, though his facial expression is like the twinkle in Zeke's eye but spread across his entire face. "Oh? That is an interesting thing to hear. One did not realise there were others with such a colouring here." <draconic>

"This one was not aware of it either." Zeke is almost smiling now, in the sith-makar manner. Almost. "This one would be worried to hear that thisss one of the People was you." The smile does shift to an expression of concern. "This one heard that it was a fearsome thing to see." <draconic>

Geir's expression slowly changes to one of concern. "Fearsome? The copper-scale providing guidance in a moment of volatility?", he wonders, his voice dipping lower. "Is that such a terrible thing?" <draconic>

"Not your actions Geir." Zeke shakes his head, their ruse of Geir not being the one who was there vanishing. "The mob that formed before the soldier's defense. This one does not know what one would do faced with so many people. You were brave Geir, to face it. This one heard that Mikilos was there as well, that he was attacked even. This one does not know how you handled it." He shudders. <draconic>

The copper-scale nods, his eyes meeting Zeke's for a time, before looking away. "Courage is not the lack of fear, but telling fear to be quiet. My mentor at the temple told me that, once, long ago." Geir looks off into the distance, as if considering the rain as it falls. The two Sith sit comfortably under an awning, outside the Temple of the Sun, exchanging words in an ancient language. "One knows not what would have happened had the line of Hearthguards not been present. Holding the door against that mob alone is daunting to consider, let alone do so." The copper-scale chuckles then, snorting noisily as if remembering something funny. "Did you know he caused a giant eruption of fire above their heads? One was stilled by the magnitude of it, and one had half expected it. Watching them fall over themselves to flee was a relief, now a joy, to behold." <draconic>

Mikilos has his own way of dealing with the rain, which is to say the drops apparently just -happen- to part a few feet above his head, and miss him entirely. Which considering recent rumors, the raindrops might not want to take any chances. It's till humid and chilly however, so the elf walks briskly into the plaza, heading somewhere or another, but pauses as he spies a couple under the awning, and turns to approach. "Peace unto your nests." <draconic>

Zeke looks surprised at Geir's words, but is even more surprised to see the very wizard they're talking about. He shifts and rises to his feet slowly out of politeness, lowering his head to Mikilos. Though thinking about it, Zeke is uncertain that they have actually met the wizard. Nonetheless he is easily recognized by his description. "Peace on your nest, Mikilos. It is a pleasure to see you, and share words." <draconic>

"Speak his name and the wizard shall appear. And speaking the ancient tongue, no less. Peace on your nest, ser. Would you share words with us?" The copper-scale shifts, moving to make room for Mikilos under the awning, with room to spare for Zeke, before resettling upon the ground. To Zeke, Geir nods. "Do not look too surprised. One needs to make a decision quickly, so one does what one is trained to do. Remembering the words of one's mentor, and using the training of the Hearthguards... that is how one held the line against the mob." The copper-scale gestures to Mikilos. "Of course, diplomacy held sway for some time, until the crowd began to become frustrated. One thinks it was expected for the Hearthguards and those assembled to attack and harm the crowd. In refraining from doing so, reason won through that night." <draconic>

Mikilos nods, and pulls a small wooden stool from his pack, taking a seat before pulling a bronze teapot as well, pouring himself a mug of steaming liquid. Wizards. "Thank you. Would you care from some tea? It's willowbark and dandelion petals, good for headaches, with cinnamon for flavor." He listens, and nods as he takes a sip. "I think most of the crowd was simply scared, but fairly sure was at least one there to rile them up. Sadly, even if we'd captured and questioned everyone, far too easy to just blend into the mass." <draconic>

Zeke slowly settles back down, careful to keep his cloak about himself. Even so he can not help but flash a bit of crystal in the dim light coming from his hand and foot. He seems to realize this and is even more careful, picking up his mug and finishing off the little bit of tea that is there. Then he settles the mug down close to where Mikilos can reach it. "This one would be pleased to try your tea." He nods again in thanks to the mage. It's a very unsithlike motion, this gentle bowing, but it is one which seems to come naturally from Zeke. "This one has seen a rise in violent acts toward the sick, or those who might be. It is becoming more and more worrisome. This one feels that we may be falling into the trap that whoever made this thing wants us to." <draconic>

The copper-scale holds up a hand, and gently shakes his head. "Many thank yous, but one is still satiated by the morning meal. Perhaps another time? One would be happy to share tea then." Geir nods in response to their words. "Indeed, fear is the weapon of choice the dark one wields. The plague, while insidious, breeds fear and that is what will break the city. A cure must be found and soon. A way to calm the citizenry would be most useful, also." <draconic>

Mikilos sighs, and nods. "Maybe not a trap, exactly, but certainly something to trip up our efforts. I've been trying to to Scry the tower, or rather, Menel Dinmorin, who should be near the tower, but just been staring at a blank mirror for hours. Hence the headache. So far as an actual cure goes, I think I've taken treatment as far as I can without some sort of breakthrough. Stopping the source, or just learning some solid details about it, will likely help." <draconic>

"Menel Dinmorin?" Zeke says the name carefully and uncertainly, tilting his head slightly to the side with a quick movement not unlike that which a bird might make. "This one might ask how this person would help, and also... have you seen the -" The blue-scaled sith hums and glanced aside. "The plant creature which Chay captured? It is tainted and twisted, and it was captured in the hopes that it might be used to find a cure." He is clearly hiding something about it, if his expression is anything to go by, but then sith-makar are well known for their odd facial expressions. <draconic>

"Hmm, so you are looking for inspiration, Mikilos? Some final clue to unlock the secrets?" Geir leans forward slightly, curiosity etched in his features. "This Menel Dinmorin. Do you know him? Have you searched for his name in the Library?" The copper-scale regards Zeke as he speaks, his head canting slightly to one side. "Plant creature?", he wonders. <draconic>

Mikilos nods. "Menel Dinmorin." The wizard says it clearly, to make sure it's remembered. "He's a prisoner at the White Tower. Helped me, and others escape. I... I don't remember all the details..." he frowns, rubbing absently at his head "...but I remember he helped me escape. he said he gets out of the Tower sometimes, and during those moments, Scrying should work." He sighs, then shakes his head. "No, I'd heard something about a plant monster, but haven't had the opportunity to examine it myself." He smiles to Geir, and shakes his head. "Not a specific search. I don't know where else to look, other than the Tower. But I try to keep my eyes and ears open." <draconic>

Zeke mouths the name one last time, but clearly has never heard it before. He seems entranced however by Mikilos' words, and then... Geir's attention turns on him and he tilts his head down to avoid eye contact. "This one knows that the creature is at the Soldier's Defense awaiting Alba to get it. It will be there if you require it for your research." Definitely hiding something. "You should look into the city records, if this Menel was a resident of the city at some time, a record of his birth, or residence should be there. This one will spread the name and see if anyone recognizes it." <draconic>

Geir's gaze stays fixed on Zeke. "What can Zeke tell one of the creature? What sort of plant creature is it?" His gaze shifts to Mikilos, and the copper-scale nods. "One can understand. Perhaps one could assist in the research?" He glances back to Zeke, then, and seems to consider his words. "Perhaps not, kin of mine. One should consider that the vampire and his master likely have ears in the city. They might then understand the importance of Menel and his wanderings outside the tower." He goes silent for a few, long, moments. "One has a thought. What if... what if Menel is too convenient? Hearing his name might let them know that he is in our confidence. That we may be .. falling for whatever it is he is up to. Herrmm. Though one thinks this may be too much paranoia." <draconic>

Mikilos blinks at Zeke. "I... I hadn't even considered he might local. Someone from a magical tower that jumps through time and space, I just assumed he was from somewhere exotic... I didn't even check." He seems embarrassed and mildly annoyed. He nods to Geir, and frowns mildly. "I agree. It does seem convenient. But... it -feels- real. I don't plan to rush blindly at his words alone, but I trust him, for now." <draconic>

Conveniently, Mikilos is talking and Zeke can somewhat avoid answering the question about the creature. After all it /is/ at the Soldier's Defense if Geir really wishes to know. Instead he nods. "Most of those taken by the tower have been local yes? Or no?" He clearly has no idea. "This then too may be of note. If others across the world are being taken by this tower we need know! Checking to see on this one first would be wise though, since you are looking for him. However I agree with Geir. It may be unwise to trust anyone associated with this tower. We have no way of knowing if he is merely a pawn being used somehow." <draconic>

The copper-scale nods in agreement with Mikilos, and looks again to Zeke, then speaks to both. "Then we are in agreement, one believes. If Menel wishes to help us, we take his assistance with a large rock of salt. Keep our wits about us, our guard up. We should inquire quietly about his origins. One has an interesting, and growing, curiosity. If his assistance proves solid, we can apologize for doubting him. If it, and one hopes not, treachery, then we are forewarned and thus forearmed." <draconic>

Mikilos nods. "The ones I know about were all local. Of course, I know about them -because- they were local. But I'll try contacting some other areas, see if they've had similar kidnappings." He nods in agreement with the copper-scale. <draconic>

"There is an interesting thing to consider." Zeke tilts his head again, looking off into the distance for so many reasons. "If he is local, and is from this time... he may have family. People who are missing him." He sighs out a breath, and shakes his head. "Did he tell you anything which may be of use, or which you noticed about him which may help identify him?" <draconic>

"One has words for later, kin.", Geir says to Zeke. "One should also consider looking up the towers. They seem to be quite powerful just by themselves. Perhaps a little too powerful to be just... brought into existence for a campaign of ... what, terror?" He looks to Mikilos. "Another convenient coincidence, yes?" <draconic>

Mikilos considers, and nods. "He said the Mistress, the one in charge of the Tower, has a... cognitive blind spot. That she can't mentally grasp people helping each other without benefit to themselves. Which, if she is some sort of demon, seems entirely possible. As for Menel himself, white hair, with blue eyes. I -think- human, but my memory is hazy on details." He nods to Geir. "I've done some reading on the Tower itself. Hard to say for certain if there's just one tower, but as it seems to move though time as well as space, and across planes of existence, tracking is a difficult task. So near as I can tell, it was the home of an archmage, and later taken by this Mistress. Unclear if she stole it, or found it, or how exactly she acquired it." <draconic>

"This one also has words for later Geir." Zeke is giving Geir an odd look, but he quickly looks away again, peering slightly between Geir and the mage known as Mikilos. "White hair is distinctive - particularly among the softskin yes? So this may serve to help find him. Do not push yourself too far Mikilos, it is possible that you will remember more in time in fact... There should be some way to gain these memories which are lost to you. This one knows little of the arcane arts, but it seems that there must be." <draconic>

"Just so.", Geir says in reply to Zeke. To them both, he nods. "So, shall we go about our business, search for these clues, and return her again soon to contemplate what we have found?" <draconic>

Mikilos frowns mildly, but nods. "I'm not confidant the memories -are- there to be found. There are magics and potions that keep the mind from forming memories in the first place. I think that's close to what the Tower, or perhaps the Mistress, does. But, I hope I'm mistaken, and I'll remember more in time. Anyway, yes, I should get going, and hopefully we'll all find something of use." <draconic>

Zeke nods and slowly, carefully rises to his feet. "Peace be on your nests until then. Mikilos, Geir." Zeke bobs his head again and it becomes clear suddenly that this is a gesture of submission. Something used by one used to appeasing others. He picks up his cup and takes a step backwards from the group. "May we all meet again soon." <draconic>

The copper-scale lifts a hand to Mikilos. "Be well, ser, and keep yourself safe." To Zeke, Geir's sombre expression grows softer and he nods to the blue-scale. "Tea and dinner.", he offers Zeke. <draconic>

Mikilos nods, and gathers his things before waving and heading off across the plaza, switching back to Common. "Fare well."

-End