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Lupecyll-Atlon home, late afternoon

Sometimes things do work out. While Lana has been out having a care day (courtesy of her cousin), Telamon has taken the time to tidy up a bit. Granted, this isn't near as much of an imposition when you can cast unseen servant and prestidigitation -- it's not cheating if you have those tools at your disposal! Now the house is cleaned up, things put away, a pot of soup on the stove at low simmer, and Telamon is checking the wine racks. Drawing out one embossed with a crescent-moon and mockingbird on the wax seal, he hums. "Looks like this aged nicely," he comments to himself.

From the back of the couch, a small orange faerie dragon peers over into the kitchen. "Lady Simony was quite fascinated -- if a little unnerved -- with your willingness to tackle the recipes in that book of libations, my Lord. But you seem to have mastered several so far." The dragon's tail flicks lazily back and forth. "Now if all your problems were so easy to solve."

There's a knock at the door. Seldan for today has chosen a relaxed look that is perhaps unusual for him, a loose shirt in crisp white, the collar left open to reveal the black-inked edges of art on his chest, paired with loose cloth trousers and low black boots that occasionally are shot through with blue bolts of energy. Over this is his usual blue and silver robe adorned with embroidery of celestial creatures, and the crescent and sphere, but weapons and armor are nowhere in evidence today. He has shorn the ginger-blonde mane into a military cut. Only a beaten leather knapsack obviously accompanies him today. 

Having knocked, he takes a step back from the door and waits, gazing at the door impassively.

Aya approaches the Lupecyll-Atlon abode with information, her thoughts upon the same. Thus she does not realize there is another visitor pending until she all but reaches the door and Seldan's vicinity. "Silverguard," she greets him. "Is this a popular time to visit?" A pause as she considers before inquiring, "Should I return another time?"

At the knock, a high-pitched voice can be heard calling. "Visitors, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon!" Then next to the new door (a heavy wooden one engraved with swooping ravens), the window opens and Telamon peers out. His eyes narrow, then he relaxes. "Sir Seldan, before you enter, we once spoke on the nature of flight spells. Could you recount what happened with your first flight, as well as my own when I tried to visit Mourner Verna?"

His eyes move past to regard Aya, and he offers her a smile. "Please remain. One way or the other I suppose we will need to talk." His eyes twinkle brightly.

The response from Seldan is, perhaps unexpectedly, relaxation, and a low chuckle. "You were quite fortunate, Master Telamon, that flight in a high wind did naught worse than land you in a snowbank," he offers in response, with no rancor at all. "It was perhaps understandable, given your haste, but when first I learnt to fly, I attempted launch from the windward side of the courtyard of the Temple, and was left for my trouble with a broken wrist for the healers to see to. An error that I have not, thankfully, repeated." 

"Mistress Aya, please, remain," he adds, gesturing that she should precede him. "I shall not trouble you, for it is perhaps with common purpose that we seek this place."

Aya's brows arch at the unexpected line of questioning, and the topic of discussion, between Telamon and Seldan. It takes her a moment to realize the intent of it, and she nods to both men. "Yes, we need talk, and it could well be of the same purpose." She then looks to Telamon to offer, "I know what Cor'lana carries, and who sacrificed to obtain it."

Telamon's face instantly relaxes further at Seldan's words, and he nods. "Hold on..." Vanishing from the window, there's the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn back as well as a clunk of something at the foot of the door. Then it opens, and Telamon beckons, dressed casually in a deep green tunic over cotton trousers, with house-slippers on his feet. "Please, come inside. Such things should not be discussed out of doors."

Once the two have entered, Telamon closes the door again, locking it. "I do have a houseguest, but he knows when to -not- speak of certain things. If I was paying him, I'd offer him a raise." He chuckles, as he leads the two into the living room, where Jyndei the faerie dragon is sprawled along the back of the couch. The little creature's head comes up as Aya and Seldan walk in, regarding them with polite interest. "It's late enough," Telamon muses. "Care for a little wine? I've completed infusion on a new bottle of Night's Kiss."

Once again, Seldan gestures that Aya should precede him, nodding at the repair work done on the door, then enters himself, pausing at the door only long enough to pull from his knapsack a triangle of plain, sturdy hickory wood approximately four inches long, two inches tall, and an inch or two thick. Although trimmed and polished, it is unadorned, and bears marks along its top edge, speaking of pressure of something with a sharp edge applied to it.

When Telamon is done locking the door, he applies the acute edge of the triangle to the bottom of the door, pushing it firmly in. "A thing that Mal and I oft did of an evening," he explains. "A lock may be reached or broken from without, magic dispelled, but this is a means of barring entry both hidden and effective."

He straightens, and turns them to the pair. "I am unfamiliar with the beverage, but am pleased to accept, with my thanks."

Aya enters and glances about the interior briefly before her eyes are drawn to Seldan's addition. A brow lifts, but she doesn't comment on his ... prudence. Instead, she moves to find a seat. "It is never too early for a bit of wine, and sometimes, not even for a great deal of wine."

"Indeed!" Jyndei pipes up from the couch. The little dragon rises -- he's about the size of a housecat, with orange scales and butterfly wings. "Welcome to the home of Lord and Lady Lupecyll-Atlon. I am called Jyndei, a good friend of the Lord." Settled on his haunches, Jyndei's large eyes regard Seldan and Aya. "And as the Lord notes, it is good sometimes to not speak of certain things."

Telamon chuckles, petting the little dragon before walking into the kitchen. Checking the pot, before picking up the bottle and three glasses, and returning. "Sadly, as much fun as it is, I suspect you're not here for a wine tasting." He holds up the bottle, a deep dark vintage, and stars can be seen whirling in the liquid, before starting to open it. "What's on your mind?"

Seldan's eyebrows lift at the dragon's presence, and at the appellation. "I see that my offering of title for you was incorrect, and for that would I ask your forgiveness, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon." The gaze is steady and even, without a hint of mockery, and with sober gravity. "Her light upon your path, Master Jyndei. I had wished to inquire further of the subject on which I touched yesterday."

Aya nods to the small dragon, but leaves the matter of titles be. "The fiends, then," she comments with some certainty. There is enough of that that guessing so would be correct at least half the time. "That -is- what I came here to speak of. Of the one, that is."

Telamon heaves an amused sigh. "-Technically-," he replies, "I am by marriage to Lana a member of nobility, since her bloodline traces back to the fey lord known as the Feathered One. I have long since given up trying to discourage it -- I am just happy fey now address me as 'Lord Lupecyll-Atlon' and not just 'Lord Lupecyll'."

The half-elven sorcerer sits down, once the bottle is opened, and begins pouring. Indeed, the wine is a deep, deep violet, shot with sparkles like a night sky. "I will forewarn that this elixir will not cure -- or harm -- you, but you will see the night skies above you, and be comforted by them." He nods to Aya. "I suspect we may wish for more wine with such a subject, but... to business then. I have already spoken with Temperance Simony on this, and she was... properly cautious."

"As you will, then." Seldan takes the glass of wine, considering it, tilting the glass with the fascination of a boy, a small smile on his face. With the finger of his other hand, he draws a quick, simple sigil on the glass and speaks a word. He continues to watch it through the blue-gold-silver sheen that appears on the glass, smiling more genuinely still. "A fascinating beverage, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon," he murmurs, continuing to tilt the glass this way and that before taking a sip. 

For a moment, it almost seems as if the topic is wholly forgotten in the simple joy of the wine, but at length, he looks up and makes a gesture of dismissal, and the sheen vanishes, leaving only the glass. "To business, then," he echoes with what might be a sigh of regret. "I fear that I now find myself in much the same position as Mistress Aya - a fiend that steals my face, and may know my thoughts as well. It responded to errors that it made, when they came to my mind. They are strong. One may I take well enough, but two is enough to give me pause. I think them once of Eclavdran's minions, and yet is he utterly destroyed. It seems that these friends may have, with their knowledge, taken another master."

Aya rises to take up a glass with a quiet "Thank you." She moves back towards her chosen seat but does not immediately settle in it. Seldan's expounding that the fiend has done more than just theft of form draws a scowl from her. "I hope that it is not as complete a copy as the other. They could very well be the duke's former minions. I know the one was. It would explain their collaboration."

She takes a sip from her glass, though it is secondary to the thought that strikes. "Seldan," she begins, a tone of concern in the word. "Is Malik safe?" She had very little interaction with the man, but knows enough of him, and given what she has experienced...

"Fiends would need no complex motivations to find new masters or mistresses," Telamon muses. "Protection, opportunity, material or other forms of gain." He takes a sip from his own glass, the sweetness making his lips curl in a small smile before he focuses again.

He looks to Seldan, "The more I consider it, the more I wonder if we are chasing the wrong end of this problem. The fiends are being called forth by summoners; perhaps we need to purge those to limit their opportunities to return."

"One must purge both ends," Seldan replies. He, curiously, has not chosen a seat at the table, but instead elsewhere, and if the others have settled at the table, he chooses to stand. "There was," he sighs quietly, "a town given over entire to the worship of Eclavdran and his consort. The entire town vanished when its nature was discovered, and none have seen its people since. I fear the matter was mishandled, and his cultists or their associates may yet remain in the area. I cannot say this with certainty, and yet is it a possibility." 

The question about Malik prompts him to raise his head, and regard Aya with that same sober gaze. "Mal does not willingly set foot within these walls," he says simply. "I shall not reveal where he is, but he is safe. He does not come, save only that I have asked it of him, and I ask not such without real need. In this case do I think it well that he does not."

Aya nods to Seldan, her concern satisfied with the answer. She has no need to inquire more of it, and it is likely best for all that she know nothing further, anyhow. She now looks to Telamon. "Seldan is right," perhaps another mild surprise. "Both need to be handled. I won't-I -can't- leave -that thing- out to do whatever it is doing. I have a strong idea of where it is, at least for now, and it is nowhere near this city. That is what I came with news of, Telamon, so that we can go to it and stop it. Permanently."

Telamon takes another sip of the wine, before lifting his eyebrows. "When you say 'vanished' do you mean just the people, or was it the whole town too?" He furrows his brows. "Much as I'd like to argue, I can't. We need to hit both sides of this infection, keep them off balance."

His gaze turns to Aya, and he nods. "If you have a location, then I'm happy to supply some arcane fire to help dispose of it. But..." He pauses. "You spoke of what Lana carries. That is reserved solely for the beast that attacked us. If it is one and the same, so much the better, but is it the right target?"

Seldan takes another, thoughtful sip of his wine, then looks up, that boyish smile returning to his features. It is a momentary thing, and then he returns his attention to the matter at hand. "The people only, though I think that enough. It is in my mind that I could yet find the place, but I shall not do so without competent assistance, and none go alone. It is in my mind that it may yet be watched. In any event, I shall lend my sword to such an effort, but we must locate both." 

He pauses, then continues. "What is this thing that your lady carries?" he inquires, neutrally. "She spoke once of seeking the Queen of Air and Darkness."

"It is in Charn," Aya offers solmnly. "If Daechir's memories were true, it has his mother captive. It is in league with, or has possessed, his grandmother. The family has several holdings in Charn. I don't know precisely where, but they would be known in Charn." At Seldan's inquiry of Telamon, she falls quiet to sip at wine and leaves him to answer that as he wishes.

Telamon makes a face. "Charn. Of -course- it's Charn. Why shouldn't it be Charn?" He sighs, staring into his wine glass before taking a drink. "...Not exactly an easy place to sneak into, especially if you're intent on assassinating a fiend. How heavily guarded is Daechir's mother, and these holdings? Can we expect wardings against teleportation?"

At Seldan's inquiry, Telamon's expression becomes blank. "It's not for me to speak of it lightly, Sir Seldan. All I will state is that a price was paid -- one we are still dealing with -- and that we will see that demon ended, thanks to the Queen of Air and Darkness's generosity. I will not discuss it further without Lana's specific permission."

At the response, Seldan merely inclines his head, his own features taking on the impassive cast of an alabaster pillar. "As you say." He seems content to leave the subject well enough alone, though, turning his attention instead to the matter of Charn. "Too many evils take refuge in that place, and yet it is not unexpected. "It will not be the first time I have infiltrated a Charneth noble house. Still must we understand the nature of its summoner, for have I not dispatched a demon with your face once already?"

Aya exhales a long breath at Telamon's question as alternative to scowling. The first takes less energy. "I don't know. I like Charn no more than you, probably less so. Daechir and I both have little interest in our Houses. He never spoke of their holdings in Charn... and I am loathe to ask him of them, now. I would not be surprised that his grandmother was willingly in league with the fiends. She seemed very much the sort."

To Seldan, her brow furrows as she considers. "I don't recall. If you did so while it and I were one and the same..." The thought brings a slight shudder that she attempts to suppress. "That is where it is unlike the others, as I know. It ... wore me. It was me. It knows me. Even when it left, it took a piece of me with it. It was banished when I was freed of it. Later, I slew it, once, after I was freed, even knowing it would or could return, and it did."

Telamon sighs at Seldan. "I'm not being obtuse just for fun here, Sir Seldan. This... wasn't done easily, and it wasn't kind, and honestly I'd rather not have to even have the conversation. But here we are." He reaches up to rub a hand down his face. "In any case, yes, Lana will be more than happy to help, I think. But... damn. I've -never- been to Charn, and honestly could live my whole life without going there."

He offers the other two a wry smile. "Seldan, you said you'd infiltrated Charn before. I think if we're going to do this, we'll need some pointers."

"Consider whence your lady's wisdom on the nature of that being, and how one might best navigate, comes." Seldan's rejoinder is mild, the words indirect. "Fear me not. Your secrets are yours, and it may well be best that I know not." He abandons the topic again, instead taking a sip of wine, his gaze sober and thoughtful. "It is easiest, does one blend in and remain unnoticed, does one wish to move about in silence. The ordinary folk are ignored, and thus it is well to pose as servants. The captured dead are all too common among their servants, but not universal."

Aya's explanation, on the other hand, leaves him even more sober. "I would understand whether the nature of the one that takes my face is the same. It would be well to learn that, and swiftly." A very real concern, from his tone.

"I hold few fond memories of Charn," Aya offers, "but I did dwell there for a century. I have not forgotten all. At the least, I could travel there less conspicuous than others... though the matron of that House and her son both know my face." As do far too many fiends. She pauses to take a very long draught from her glass before looking to Seldan.

"Unless you surrendered your body and soul to the creature or its master, Seldan, or they somehow gained the power to take them without your knowledge..." Most of the comment is rhetorical, and not the most pleasant recollection. There is a long pause before she frowns. " ... Or they learned enough of you through -my- knowledge of you."

"All true. But regardless, we must go there. We need to deal the fiends a blow that will make them understand that their plots have consequences, and that we won't stand idly by." Telamon's eyes glitter, a reflection of the wine. "I have no objection to going incognito, and there are ways mundane and magical to disguise ourselves. But we do need a target. If we go flailing around up there, there could be repercussions. I don't really want to touch off an international incident while we're sending this fiend off to the Void."

"Even so. That have I not done, to my knowledge, and I think their knowledge of me perhaps imperfect? And yet -" Seldan frowns into his wine, his brows furrowing. "There may yet be a risk," he murmurs thoughtfully. "The method used to destroy Eclavdran - required me to bait a soul trap, and then reverse it upon him. I had thought the effects - erased, and yet shall I not discount the possibility. Lord Lupecyll-Atlon -" He turns then to Telamon. "Are you familiar with the blanking of the mind? I fear that such a spell is beyond my capabilities as a mage."

Aya does not know what transpired to defeat Eclavdran, only that he is gone. Technically. A thought that is not lost as she now chooses to sit heavily into her chosen seat; though not so much so as to waste any wine. "Even destroyed, that bastard's works -still- plague us!" Is is calm? Controlled? Constructive? None of these, but it is -something-. She knows even less of magic that the discussion turns towards.

"Of course, Aya." Telamon picks up the bottle, and checks to see if anyone wishes a top-off before refilling his. "The past is always with us, and sometimes evil lives on long after its perpetrator is gone. Or as an oruch friend of mine once said, 'the dog may move on, but the droppings still stink'." Telamon's expression becomes wry. "She does have a way with words."

At Seldan's inquiry, Telamon's smile fades. "I know of the spell, but I'm afraid it's beyond my capabilities at this time, Sir Seldan. If I'm not mistaken it's an eighth-circle spell, and I've only grasped the seventh. And before you ask, no, Lana cannot cast from the eighth circle either." He hmphs. "Why do you ask? I presume not just an idle inquiry."

Seldan tips his mostly-empty wine glass towards Telamon, an unspoken request, but most of his attention remains on the topic at hand. "A fine means of putting the matter," he agrees, inclining his head to the starsoul. "I shall seek wisdom on the matter for myself, and learn whether it be so, or if their knowledge be secondhand only."

He considers the suggestion, nodding slowly. "I may seek it of Mal," he murmurs. "Mithralla shall I seek naught of -" He pauses, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It seemed to be that the fiend may know my thoughts. It is in my mind that the mind blank may deny them any foothold they have managed to achieve."

Aya rises to accept a refill, nodding to Telamon after. "That is the truth, and wise words..." Though she, and likely others, would wish them otherwise. She cannot speak to magic, though the plain expression of Seldan's concerns she can understand and, again, supports his prudence. "When would you be prepared to travel? We must go there, first, to learn of exactly where their holdings are. I already checked the records here and there are none." Not surprising that Alexandria would not keep track of Charneth matters. It may be equally unsurprising that she has feelings of urgency on the matter.

Telamon makes sure everyone is topped off, before continuing, "My sister-by-bond Verna might also be a source for arcane insights. She is just as devoted to ending this threat as we are." He tilts his head. "It may be attempting to discern your thoughts magically -- but don't set aside good old fashioned 'reading'. You'd be surprised how much you can gather if you just pay attention to what someone says -- or does not say."

He sips his wine, and nods thoughtfully. "I would need a day or so. Lana and I would need to gather any supplies and make sure the house is secured before we set out. I won't simply slip out without telling her -- that's just stupid."

With an incline of the head of gratitude, Seldan accepts his wine and sips more of it, appreciatively. "A fine vintage indeed, and one that it is in my mind that Mal would enjoy. The Mourner is known to me, and we have been allies in the past. She is no stranger to the wiles of fiends." The other suggestion draws a small smile. "Well do I know the value of reading. My lady mother was most clear on such things, and ensured that I learned at least the basics."

"I shall be ready when you say. I need only arm, and inform Zeke of my whereabouts. Mal may also be able to assist us, although it will be nedful to shield him from the wiles of such fiends. His are the ways of stealth and of magic."

"I wouldn't steal you off in the night from Cor'lana," Aya assures Telamon. This sip from her glass is more ... casual, at least compared to prior. "We need her with us, besides, when we find it." Her lips then purse thoughtfully as she looks to Seldan. "If you would go, I welcome your aid... but I would not seek it, Seldan. I wouldn't ask you to put Malik in harm's way, either. I know I cannot do this alone, and Aryia would bludgeon me if I tried, but I will not drag others down with me if it comes to that."

"For better or worse, we are -all- entangled in this, Aya. All the way back to those fateful days when that thing had hijacked your body and I got caught up in it." Telamon grins at Aya. "And as bad as it was... it could've been worse, and we -did- save you."

He looks around the house -- the flowering vines and plants growing happily around the furniture, the elven furnishings, Jyndei -- now dozing on the couch. "We -have- to do this together. Because if we don't, no one will be safe." Suddenly he leans forward to touch Aya's hand. "Maybe you think you're asking too much. But the answer is still the same. Yes."

"It is even as he says, Mistress Aya." Seldan lowers his wine glass, holding it gently by the stem with two fingers. "By no means have I ever conquered any evil in standing alone," he explains. "For such is the weakness of evil, that it may be turned upon itself. It is when we stand together that we are strongest. I am yet pleased to aid in any endeavor that deals a blow to the forces of Darkness, for such are a threat to all."

His sober, steady, even gaze rests now on Aya. "Do you think it needful to have an even exchange, I remind you that the fiends posing as myself and Mal will want dealing with as well, when this is done."

Aya wasn't expecting the touch to her hand, though doesn't recoil from it. If anything, she is yet surprised or confused by it, despite Telamon speaking the truth. They did save her. THey continue to help her. Even now it feels ... odd, and NOT for the reasons she was previously accustomed to, such as waiting for the the caveat or the betrayal. A nod. "It could have been, but it wasn't."

"I have stood with you before, Seldan," she turns to meet his gaze. "I will do so again, and I will be far more useful to you when I am not so concerned ... on a personal level."

"It's personal all the way around, for a number of things." Telamon raises his glass in an impromptu toast. "So let's begin making plans, my friends. We've an expedition to take to Charn. We'll need to go quietly, and not linger -- pretty sure they..." He pauses. Thinking. "...or maybe..."

Tel looks at Seldan. "Sir Seldan, Charn may be an evil empire, but they are still an -orderly- empire. Would these shenanigans have the country's official support? I am wondering... are the Charnese authorities happy to let these fiends impersonate their nobles?"

The raising of the glass prompts Seldan to do the same, and take another sip. "I, in particular, must be swift and silent, and not make myself known to those in power in Charn," he warns, his tone low. "For another of my tasks involves the power structures of Charn, and my work may be in jeopardy, do I come to their notice. It is not in my mind that they have official support, but it may well be that they care not, for their eyes now are turned outwards. The nobles run frightened."

Aya raises her own glass in return salute. "From what little information I have, Charn is very much NOT as it was, Telamon. It is in chaos, or was very recently. Nothing short of a revolution." She nods sidelong to Seldan, rather certain she knows of what he speaks. "One that may have only made it worse. We should NOT rely upon any authority there. We go in, find it, finish it, and get out."

Telamon hmphs. "No chance to play them against each other. Well, that -does- make our lives easier. Chaos can be unpleasant, and disruptive, but it also breeds opportunity." He takes a sip of his wine, his brow furrowed. "Don't set aside the notion these may be related. Fiends don't care about mortal power structures, and they may be encouraging the chaos so they can lay their own plans."

He sighs. "No way to be sure, though, until we get there. Thank the gods I can teleport us. We definitely don't want to depend on a slower exit strategy."

"I also possess the means to teleport," Seldan replies thoughtfully, leaning forward just a little. "Such a connection may well exist, but whether it is of use to us is another matter. Still are your words wise and well-considered, that this task may affect my other work. Thus will it be needful for me to go cautiously indeed. Safe places to teleport outside Alexandria's walls are known to me, and they are better concealed than the watchtower at the northern gate."

"There is no shortage of transportation, then; there or back." Aya now nurses her wine lightly. "All of us save Aryia, then, can take all of us elsewhere.. and she might also be able. If there is a connection, we may learn more. If not, it will be one more longstanding threat removed, regardless."

Telamon leans back in his seat. "So it's settled then. We go to Charn, ascertain the state of things, murder a fiend or three and any little helpers it has, and then return." He smiles. "With any luck, we throw some more wrenches into the gears of Hells' mechanisms."

He lets his eyes move from Seldan to Aya, and back. "Huh. There was a time when I didn't think I knew -any- 'wise words'. Maybe I've grown a little since that day I came into Alexandria, leading my donkey."

That, at least, draws a very small smile from Seldan, and he takes another long, slow, appreciative pull of his wine. "Alexandria has a way of doing that to a man," he observes, twirling the stem in his hand. "Those who learn not wisdom, and swiftly, find themselves in the Harpist's Halls. Too oft have I seen it." 

"Still shall we remove as many fiends as we may, without coming to the notice of the authorities," he goes on. "It shall please me to be of aid in this. I am grateful for your aid, both of you, for much have I learned this day."

Aya upends the last of her glass so that she may set it down on the table. "That," she notes firmly to Telamon after he spells out the summarized version the plan, "is the best statement I've heard in some time. Maybe even the most wise words." One corner of her mouth curls upwards in bemusement.

"You changed, I've changed, even the Silverguard might have improved, a little?" The amusement is yet audible as well. "I never imagined I might be saving the city, much less the world, even less so with him." Now a vague gesture to Seldan before she actually turns to him.

A brow arches. "This could be ... thrice? Perhaps one of these times, we won't even need plan and discuss; it will be second nature..." No, she hopes it does NOT become that commonplace.

[[Category:Logs]]