New Fiance

It's late in the evening, but the last rays of sunlight are pouring down across Alexandria and it is if not warm, at least more pleasant outside than it has been in some time. It's the sort of evening to linger in.

Beautiful.

A black-haired mul'niessa man walks across the space between the street and where a lonely house sits out-of-place but cozily. His clothes are fine things, ebony like his skin and short-cut hair. It's all accented with crimson which brings out the bright red of his eyes as he walks purposefully toward Verna's home.

Spring has sprung. This eve, however, it has not sprung any leaks. This is an important distinction, and one of which Verna takes full advantage. She sits beneath the portico of the stone cottage upon the mountain's edge. Tea is upon the outdoor table there and a book is upon her lap. While the sun is not quite faded, a mana lamp above her is already glowing softly.

Mikilos hums quietly in his yard, a pair of tiny whirlwinds sweeping up dust whilst a flying cloth wipes down the signpost. The elfs attention wanders from the minor spells, to the setting sun, to the occasional bit of activity on the roadway, and back again.

It's actually a nice evening, for a wonder, but the mild evening finds Dolan focused, single-minded even, as he and Dirk make their way up the slope in the direction of Verna and Auranar's home. He's riding in the driver's seat next to Dirk, but is animatedly explaining something. "I'm looking for a way to banish that thing, see, because if we don't, we're going to have to take it on and kill it. Albus said that might be the only way, but he also said he only focused on the arcane lore. I figured that if anyone would have lore like that, it'd be the Seers, yeah? But when I dropped in, it looked like they were just getting ready to start services, so I figured I'd share with Verna what's going on and come back to talk to them a bit later."

Dirk rides alongside Dolan, listening intently with a dour frown on his face. "Aye, I'd much rather see tae banishing it than fightin' it," he says as his golden-maned pony Thistle placidly clip-clops along the rising mountain road. "Just be rid o' the damn thing in one fell swoop, says I. Filth like that isnae worth the price o' the bullet." He nods his head in agreement as he turns Thistle's head towards the track leading up to Verna's house. "I'm sure Verna might be able tae help. She's quite clever."

At least the weather was holding up alright, which was one small boon, but a boon nonetheless. One which made wandering up the road at least a bit more pleasant. As it was, the bronze clad figure continued their travel, intent on reaching the temple, and not at all knowing the half-elf actually lived near there.

Of all those seeking out Verna however, it is the mul'niessa man who reaches his destination first. He comes up to Verna's porch and from its base gives her a half, bow. "Vernavyraelistea-muriel, of House Calana'el?" He asks politely, his red eyes twinkling with mirth. He manages - somehow - to say the name without tripping over it. Must be hereditary.

Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, former Ward of House Son'Doriel, Archmage, Builder Arcane, and all around humble guy, sends the tiny dust devils out to the road, checking traffic before sending the collected dust over the edge and down the mountain. The wizard frowns mildly, attention caught by an airship near the horizon, stepping out for a better look. Because a few feet difference helps the view over miles of distance. True fact.

Verna lifts her attention from her reading to the man nearing the portico. Any expected visitors she had were not this unfamiliar man, though she moves the book from lap to table as she casually rises. Until the greeting.

While it may be formal, and even polite, Verna stiffens such that the tome greets table with some force (in comparative librarian scale of measure) and her countenance is no longer casual. Expression and tone are both wary and firm as she inquires, "Why are you here?"

"Yeah. That thing will be no joke to fight, if it comes to that."

Dolan's watching the road ahead as they approach, and the figure at the base of Verna's stairs makes him freeze cold, at once, his arm extending across Dirk as if to keep him from moving forward. "Hsst. Dirk, look out. If that's what I think it is-"

He reaches for the stylized dragon pendant hanging beneath the breastplate he wears, touches it to his lips, and stares _hard_ and none-too-kindly at the mul'niessa at the base of the stairs. He flinches, and nods. "Yeah. Dirk, look out. That's a devil in disguise. I've been coming across these little shits lately, they're harassing and strongarming people who owe debts. They're no joke."

Dirk pulls back on the reins. "And woah, lad," he says softly to Thistle. The pony obligingly comes to a halt, twitching his tail and giving his mane a shake. He squints in the direction that Dolan points, his eyes narrowing. "A bloody -devil-? Here, so close tae Alex?" He growls softly, reaching for his thunderbelcher. "What's he doin' at Missus Verna's doorstep? That's what -I'd- like tae know," he growls. He racks the slide of his weapon, causing the scrolling gold filigree worked into the stock flare with gentle golden light. "Right. You want tae go in first, or ye want I should soften 'im up?"

Schara stopped some distance away, and the artificer tilted their head once. No, that was definitely Verna, and someone coming to talk to her. Well, she wasn't particularly keen on interrupting their conversation at the moment, and it gave them time to stop and think as the cart came to a stop nearby.

"I have come to formally request that you return with me to Charn." The man smiles somewhat apologetically, and steps forward one step onto her porch. "I see what a lovely home you have made for yourself here and I imagine you are loathe to leave it, but families are insistent things are they not? Pardon, but I have not introduced myself. I am called Daechir Calithailin, of the House of Calithailin. And it seems that we are to be wed." A flash of white teeth.

Mikilos shrugs, turning away from the distant ship, pausing as he spies the wagon down the way. And there's Verna, with a... guest? Customer? What's going on? Verna looks upset?

Loose brown hair flies as Dolan shakes his head sharply at Dirk. "Wait, Dirk. Let's see what it wants and what Verna does. Maybe pretend you're checking Thistle's shoes or something. Verna can ruin that creature's day, but let's not start a fight if we don't have to. It won't do any good." He remains exactly where he is, and looks now down to Thistle's traces, but listens closely.

Wariness becomes a frown, of the utmost vernacity. "I know not what falsehoods she conveyed to you," Verna makes a very easy presumption, "Daechir Calithailin, but I regret that your venture here was for naught. It was already made quite clear that I have no family in Charn, that I will not be returning to Charn, and that I am already wed."

Dirk scowls dourly, but nods his head. He sets his thunderbelcher aside and hops down from the driver's seat. He lumbers up to Thistle, giving him a fond pat on his hindquarters as he squats down. "Let's see what ye've got down here, laddie," he says. He makes a show of checking the pony's hoof, all while perking an ear towards the exchange by Verna's porch.

GAME: Mikilos rolls spellcraft: (11)+39: 50

Well, that was enough listening for the time being. Schara coughed once into one hand, before she strode up to the home to make a decision she hopefully would not regret.

"Good day to you Verna. I would not wish the same to you sir as that would likely be lying though." They greet. "In case you are currently not aware, this is not charn, and people are not abducted against their will here. So could you please leave her alone?"

The man smiles more warmly at Verna. "I have been duly informed of your matrimonial ties, but it seems that your wedded nature is not recorded in Charn, which leaves you available to one who wants it. Both families are amenable, it only awaits that you come with me." He takes another step toward Verna, his expression intent, when Schara approaches and he gives the woman in armor a long look. "Would you be Schara by any chance? I was told to look for one in bronze armor. Of which there are not terribly many in Alexandria."

Mikilos peers for a long moment before rapidly making his way towards Verna's porch, murmuring a quick ward as he goes. Getting closer, the elf raises his voice. "I hate to jump to conclusions 'sir', but you really should step back. For your health."

GAME: Mikilos casts Protection From Evil. Caster Level: 19 DC: 22

Dolan watches from his perch atop the cart, his eyes, artificial and natural, on the traces, as several people converge on the base of the stairs. "Sounds like trouble is starting, Dirk. Is Thistle okay? Usually they can be persuaded to leave without a fight, but one of these assholes broke my nose for me last week, so they don't play."

Dirk looks over his shoulder at Dolan, then towards the porch. Seeing Mikilos getting involved has the old snowbeard's shaggy brows furrowing in worry. "Aye, Thistle's fine," he says, turning and trotting back over to the driver's seat. He clambers up and picks up his thunderbelcher. "An' if -that- shitbird wants tae play, we can surely play. Remind me, is it iron or silver devils hate? I can never keep the bloody hell-fuckers straight."

"I will not accompany you anywhere," Verna notes firmly to the man, "much less to Charn. If marriage amenable to those two houses, I understand that the matron of House Calana'el is recently widowed. You should approach her." She then turns to Schara, also noting Mikilos' approach. "Good eve, and you are correct. This is not-"

Verna halts at something, head and eyes snapping back to the mul'niessan man, the latter narrowing and hands clenching. "This conversation is ended. It is as he says: depart now, for your own well-being."

"And does that matter? This is not Charn, if they choose to ignore the laws in Alexandria, then they still exist, so they shouldn't be attempting to break them." The artificer huffs once. "And they really should not be attempting to ignore the laws here, given the alliance between the two areas."

"And why are you looking for me if you are so intent on abducting Verna here? Those seem completely unrelated and you weren't looking for me to begin with so that makes no sense."

"I have no intent to _abduction_ only for her to come with me. It seems this situation is becoming... complicated." The mul'niessa man identified as 'Daechir' says. He turns his eyes back on Verna. "Do not be so hasty. Is your wife home? Perhaps we can come to an amicable arrangement? Something that would benefit us all." He does not however move from his place.

Mikilos slows to a halt several feet away, eyeing the 'Daechir'. "Situations are always complicated, people just ignore most of what's going on." Glancing to the fellow grey-robe, he takes a moment to nod hello. "Greetings neighbor. Interesting company this evening."

If there's one person who doesn't ignore what is going on, it's the one sitting in the cart. Dolan lifts his eyes, watching the tableau at the foot of the stairs. "We probably ought to join them, Dirk. Weapons away, though." With that, he starts to slide out of the seat on his side, and jump down to the ground. "It sounds like he's harassing Verna to marry him."

Dirk grunts softly. "If ye think we should," he grumbles quietly to Dolan. He reaches up to sheathe his thunderbelcher in his back holster and hops down from the cart. He trundles alongside his friend, resting his hands on his belt. "Think maybe ye might just want tae walk on down the road there, mister," he growls to the mul'niessa. "We're nae too partial tae Charnites in these parts. -Especially- the sort who cannae take 'no' fer an answer." He gestures down the roadway, leading -away- from Alexandria. "There ye go. Off ye trot. There's a lad."

Verna's hands relax and her expression returns to neutral as she nods to Daechir. "Indeed, we can come to an amicable arrangement that benefits us all." The other inquiry receives no response. "Such was already offered: Leave. Do not return. I do not foresee any other amicable options."

"If you believe that I will tolerate threats against my family or my acquaintances, or that I am unable or unwilling to intervene... you may test that belief at your convenience."

The artificer tilts their head again. "You do not wish to abduct her? Well, regardless of intent, she doesn't want to go with you." They huff again. "It's complicated because you showed up at her home talking about how she isn't actually married to her wife when she clearly is, and even if she was not, she would not wish to go back with you anyways. Complicated when you state you will not recognize Alexandria's jurisdiction, which you should not do."

"Please just leave her alone."

GAME: Dolan rolls will: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Schara rolls will: (11)+2: 13
GAME: Verna rolls will: (13)+24: 37
GAME: Dirk rolls Will: (7)+6: 13
GAME: Mikilos rolls will: (18)+18: 36

Everyone feels a roil of pure evil pulse off of the man, and even as he stands there the door opens. There stands Auranar, door mostly open as she peers outside to see what has been going on. "Ver-" The pulse of evil stuns her, and the man acts quickly while everyone is stymied by the sensation of evil coming off of him. He moves into Auranar, slamming the door soundly behind him.

GAME: Verna rolls perception: (17)+29: 46
GAME: Schara rolls perception: (4)+10: 14

Verna did not expect the door would open just then. "No! Aur-" Neither did she expect the sudden wave of evil that leaves her... no, it is no magic that has her viscera feeling as if they have suddenly altered their orientation. "Aura!"

Verna immediately moves for the door in attempt to follow as a flash of thought makes her regret warning him 'f@#k around and find out.' Yet it still holds true. He did, and so he will.

Dirk sucks a deep breath at that wave of overwhelming evil. For a moment, he's stunned into silence. Eyes wide and face white as his beard. "Oh Blessed Lady, keep an' protect me," he manages to wheeze through gritted teeth, trembling in his boots. The slamming door makes him startle. "HEEK!"

Mikilos hesitates a moment. There are many things he could do. Most of them would not be helpful. Getting others up to speed? Well, maybe? Gesturing to all the adventurer's present, the magus offers a hasty enchantment.

GAME: Mikilos casts Haste. Caster Level: 19 DC: 24

"That's what I was trying to warn you about!" The flood of evil sends a shockwave through Dolan, and if he hadn't been expecting it, it might well have overwhelmed him as well, but something deep inside him steadies his spirit. He couldn't even have said what it was. Maybe it's adrenaline. Maybe it's something else, but he yells back to Dirk, "Stay with the cart!"

With that, he takes off running in the direction of the house, shouting, "That thing's hellspawn! It's a devil! I know the disguise! We've got to get to her!" Suddenly, the magic takes hold and his steps speed up. "Thanks!" he shouts, not even looking to see what the source of the spell is before bolting for the window and drawing the longsword at his hip.

The artificer, almost rooted in place, shakes off some bizarre fear that nearly took hold. She was afraid, but this was something external, and unwanted.

What was she supposed to do in this situation? Well, she had at least some idea as she attempts to head through the door. "Leave her alone Daechir! If you even attempt to do anything to her, I will kick your dick in!" Schara shouts into the building in warning, fully intent on making do with her threat.

There's no response from inside the house. No Auranar calling for help, no 'Daechir' responding to threats or spells. The dead silence is in of itself... unnerving.

GAME: Verna rolls perception: (3)+29: 32
GAME: Schara rolls perception: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (19)+16: 35

"The back door!" Dolan, looking through the window, immediately shouts, more adrenaline flooding him. "He's taking her out the back door!" He raises the pommel of the longsword and slams it with all his strength into the glass of the window, then sets himself to leap through it and into the house and the shower of glass he just created. "I'll pay you back for the glass!"

Mikilos could head through the house. He could go around the house. He might be able to go under the house. But, as these things tend to fly away, he picks going over the house. With the help of a spell, of course.

GAME: Mikilos casts Fly. Caster Level: 19 DC: 24
GAME: Schara casts Expeditious Retreat. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

Schara, while half panicked, is still able to listen to what others are saying. And mention of the back door being a potential exit, the artificer flips a few switches at various points, causing their armor to crackle with energy, shifting various parts out of the way, as they sprint off around the house at nigh impossible speeds, intent on cutting off the path.

Verna is occupied opening the door... or attempting to as it barely moves before it is blocked by something within. Putting her shoulder to it produces the precise results that all would expect. She is not worried of the windows. In fact, so narrow is her focus that she may have forgotten their existence until Dolan shatters one and yells. -Now- she moves towards the broken window in order to follow.

Dirk scrambles back to the top of his cart, pulling his thunderbelcher with shaking hands. He plants himself firmly and lifts his weapon to his shoulder, ready to fire. He's still deeply afraid, but he's not about to let something like malevolent evil from the darkest hellpits get in the way of helping his friends. "I got the front covered!" he calls to the others. "Try an' herd 'im 'round this way!"

The devil in disguise as Daed however is out the back door and dragging Auranar with him. It's clear that the wound on her head is hindering her, and she is no match for the taller, and far more muscular mul'niessa man. He grins at her and shoves her over the balcony even as everyone comes around to where he is. Casually he flips a golden coin to Dolan, his crimson eyes showing no care for the act of violence that just happened.

Dolan catches the flash of gold instinctively, but when he looks at it he will find a golden ring there, not the coin that it first appeared to be when glinting through the air. Meanwhile the demon is taking its true form. That of a giant insect-like creature. It's horrible to behold. "Give that to my intended will you Brydion?"

GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/the planes+3: (20)+11+3: 34

Dolan doesn't looking at it beyond a momentary glance, just shoves it in his trousers for now. "Jal'goroth, you little fuck. You should have known better than to give me something to find your cowardly little ass with," he snarls. "Grab Auranar! I'll send this little piece of shit back to where it belongs and find the cult summoning him. I kicked Draxath's ass and I'll kick yours too." It's a bravado that Dolan doesn't really feel as, longsword in hand, he bolts towards the creature, shouting, "In the name of the holy Sunlord, may His light be your bane!"

Mikilos typically flies up, and along. There are very few times when one wants to fly DOWN. This happens to be one of them, the wizard moving with hasty speed to catch the falling Auranar from a dangerous drop. Well, the drop is safe, it's that sudden stop at the end that's a problem.

GAME: Schara rolls cmb: (4)+4: 8
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+16: (15)+16: 31
GAME: Aftershock rolls 3d6+3: (9)+3: 12

Schara screams as Auranar is tossed over the balcony. It's rather uncharacteristic given the armor, and the artificer considers jumping after them, but the drop was too far to survive. So, instead, they rush at the creature, attempting to pin it in place, but hands and hooks find no purchase on the carapace, only managing to snap a few ineffectual chunks off, partly due to the force of being sent a few feet back herself, the wind knocked out of them from the impact of the tail to their front, and the balcony to their back.

Verna arrives in time to see little more than familiar feet in the air off the balcony before they vanish below. "Aura!" A pained call, as even empowered by magic, Verna cannot outpace gravity on foot... she has not yet even reached the balcony rail. Please, please still be wearing it, dearest... Then, as she sees Mikilos plunging through the air, controlled, and at speed, some of her worries are abated. Yet the, now obvious, fiend remains.

One that Dolan is facing. Is it sending it away? It does not immediately appear so to her. Holding its focus? Sharply. There is also Schara, who is- oh no. This is not the ideal time nor place to be combatting it, and she certainly is not about to leave it to its threated.

"Begone!" she yells at the fiend, "You were told to depart, now are demanded to! You are not welcome in this home, this city, nor even this realm!" One hand moves to the scales at her neck as the other gestures. "By The Harpist's Judgment, begone from here and back to whatever Hells spawned you!"

GAME: Verna casts Banishment. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+24: (2)+24: 26
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+24: (3)+24: 27

The devil no longer in disguise laughs. "You fools. Sooner or later you will all fall." With that the devil takes to the air, flying away while Mikilos tries to rescue Auranar. While Dolan stands there proudly, Schara in pain, and Verna with the hope that lies in Dolan's pocket.

Mikilos swoops down, catching Auranar in time. Eyeing the departing 'Daechir', he grumbles quietly, having plans for flying demons. Devils. Whatever. But keeping a steady hold is far more important as he flies back up to the railing. "Everyone okay? Or okay as can be expected?"

Dolan is frozen in place, and takes a step after Jal'goroth when he departs, only to see Mikilos arrive with Auranar in his arms. Hands and arms bear several bleeding cuts, and one leg of his trousers are torn, but he otherwise seems okay, and he fairly slumps with relief. "I'm fine. I owe you a window, Verna. Auranar. Is she okay? What about Schara, that thing hit her." He starts forward to aid the injured, heedless of his own bloodied state. He'll slump later.

Schara looks up as the devil takes flight, and the artificer attempts to take aim at it fleeing, but another pang of pain makes them fumble the release, and once she sees Mikilos return with Auranar, they finally give up and collapse into a seat on the ground. The armor they were wearing shifts back to it's normal shape.

"I will be fine. I don't think there was any lasting damage. If there is, it's not important, see to Auranar to make sure they're okay." They answer.

The fiend is departing. Not as Verna had intended and hoped, but it is no longer in their home, at the least. Questions of why and how it came to be here, seeking her, can be discussed later. For now, "Tend to Schara!" she implores to Dolan even as she moves to Mikilos and Auranar. "You have my gratitude," is earnestly given to the former as she sees to the latter. "Are you alright, dearest?" Verna will most heartily treat all injuries, for all parties, but all else being equal, she has personal bias on priority.

Auranar as it turns out is - mostly - fine. She has a nasty head-wound from the initial attack but didn't have the hard landing that the devil had intended for her. Instead she hugs Verna tightly as soon as she's able. "He took my ring. Why would he do that?" She cries and sniffles, but she's relieved to be safe, and that more than anything is the source of tears.

The devil disappears into the distance. Gone into the city. Ready to wreck havoc somewhere else on some other day.

-End