Discussion with Dace

'Meet me in the dream by Eluna's pool.'

Such words were sent to her by a messenger, and it is with this that Cor'lana goes to sleep one night, totem in her arms, intentions set in her mind that continue to lay in the fertile soul of her unconsciousness and linger there into the hazy and heady way of sleep. When she emerges into the dream, it is with a drive, an intention, to see herself through into victory once again, sprouted from the roots of this message. To speak to this man who had sent words to her, to speak to this man that the Harpist said had no hostile intentions for her.

To speak to this man who may well help her, in one way, claim victory over her intended goal.

By Eluna's pool she stands, Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon, dressed in a gown of violet that speaks of majesty. Circlet on her brow like she has all the right to rule in the world. Waves of dark hair that flow and hang freely. She waits for her consort and king to arrive.

She does not come alone. In this evening dream, the stars shine all the brighter, a thousand gemstones scattered against the sable cloth of the skies. When Telamon arrives, this is not the young aspirant of two years past, the foolish fop, or even the silver-tongued diplomat. This is Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, starborn, husband to Cor'lana and almost thrumming with his own strange power. He slipped into the slumber with the totem on his chest, and the dreamwrought staff at his side, next to his wife.

So now he emerges from the shadows, eyes full of starlight, his platinum hair floating gently around his head ever so slightly as he hovers an inch or two off the ground. Dressed in a snowy-white silk shirt, black leather trousers and his boots, he smiles at Lana, his expression reassuring.

With such elegance in play, it might seem strange then, that the man that arrives without preamble or warning - simply appears - is in his way very plain. His clothes are darkly toned stormguardian wear, sturdy and meant for far cooler climates. His green eyes are slightly dull in tone, and his form is that of a muscular man. Someone well used to fighting. He towers over Cor'lana and Telamon in height, but he does not menace them.

Immediately of note is the fact that there is no sign of his totem. Indeed he seems quite without arms or armor. In spite of the greeting that he is given in that Cor'lana and Telamon are as regents of their domains here, he does not seem intimidated. This is a man secure in his own power, a man without concern for his place in life.

"I am not surprised, but perhaps a touch disappointed that you did not come alone." He begins, his voice even keeled and lacking the disappointment that he says he feels. "Still, in the interests of being on even terms, I hope you do not mind that I did not come alone either." Though... there is no sign of anyone besides him.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Will: (20)+16: 36 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)

Cor'lana looks at this man who she knows as Dace Zinskas. Her violet eyes, which glow quite subtly with their own power, regard the entity with Dace for but a flicker, turning her attention back onto the man.

"You bring the Red Maw with you. I see." Cor'lana smiles politely. "I apologize for this arrangement, Dace, but my husband and I do not go anywhere apart from each other in recent days, given what your... cohort did to our home."

She tilts her head, just a little. "You leash yours and I'll leash mine," she says, the smile widening a little on her face. "Which is to say--we give each other no violence and we shall receive no violence in turn. Is that understood and agreed upon by all?"

A soft chuckle comes from Telamon. "Don't judge him too harshly. If I was in his boots, facing you in this place, I'd want to hedge my bets as well." Those starry eyes glitter, regarding Dace with absolutely no fear at all. "Still... I'll abide by my wife's wishes and her oath. It's easier than sleeping on the couch."

The gently floating sorcerer descends so that his boots touch the earth, standing next to and just a step behind Cor'lana. Leaning on his staff, the bronze head glinting in the starlight.

There's a nod from Dace, and he glances to is side and behind him, as if he can see what is there. Another nod and he looks back at the pair. "Agreed. No violence will be offered on our part this night; in this dream. The Maw agrees."

"Firstly, I make no apologies for Marsward. He is his own creature and I command no part of him. However I have always felt that to attack ones home is to invite such upon yourself." His eyes darken with distaste and he shakes his head. "However I have not come for such niceties. So I will get directly to the point."

He looks at Cor'lana and Telamon evenly. "As you might have suspected Marsward and I hold little love for one another, but our disagreements are soon to end - one way or the other. Either he will achieve his ends, or I mine. I think there-in that that we might be... temporary allies."

GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (4)+23: 27
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Sense Motive: (17)+25: 42

So begins the game.

Cor'lana nods gently, regarding Dace for a moment that lingers a little long, before she responds, "Given that you have visibly supported each other until this moment, or have appeared to at least be acting in concert with each other," she says, "you have to understand that this comes off as something of a proposal that is 'too good to be true', as they say, to us. I would like to know what motivates you to do so."

She smiles. "After all, a farmer will try and offload his crop for a cheaper price at the end of the day at the market compared to when he arrived at the light of dawn, as his crops may well be worth nothing to him in the time it takes for him to travel home. It is an easier 'buy' when one knows why."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Diplomacy: (15)+28: 43
GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (9)+28+5: 42

Telamon takes a seat on... apparently nothing, ever so slightly bobbing in midair, looking as insouciant as possible. His expression is interested, but hardly eager or desperate. A mild curiosity at most. "Of course, he might be angling for some edge to gain over Seraquoix. I mean, the man combines a number of fairly impressive capabilities -- although you wouldn't realize it from some of his decisions. Raw power doesn't always come with wisdom."

Idly, Tel rubs his chin, his eyes on Zinskas. "I admit, it does take a certain... desperation to reach out to Cor'lana. Of all the people to seek aid from..."

Dace makes a slightly rude noise at Telamon. "Cor'lana was not the only choice for this meeting; merely the most convenient to approach. Of all she seemed the most likely to be amenable to a meeting at a later date rather than a desire to talk then and there - or a swiftly pulled sword."

Drolly he continues, taking a seat even as Telamon has - on the seeming air. Though he does not sway or bob ad Telamon does. Instead the air supports him quite solidly. "Marsward and I have never had a complete agreement. I think we both had plans to do away with the other from the beginning, but Zalgiman was a force of his own and in his way - forced us to work together more than we might have otherwise. The fracturing of our agreement began in earnest with his death; Marsward demanded I reconstitute the poor man." Here anger flashes across Dace's face. "Not with a spell to return him to life, but to force him to live as undead. You may not understand why I found the notion loathsome, but I think you might agree that it would have been... An insult to his memory."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Will: (7)+16: 23

Killing intent flashes within Cor'lana's violet eyes, the subtle glow within them all the brighter for a second. Yet it's accompanied by a growl and an aversion of her eyes that would tell that these things are not intended for Dace. "Not understand? No, I understand _perfectly_. That man... Suffered far too much to be raised as undead and have the respite he wanted so badly to be interrupted. He suffered until the very end at that man's hands."

Her eyes are dark indeed. "The man's cruelty knows no bounds. It seems that _everyone_ he meets, he subjects to some level of cruelty. I would wager that you, yourself, haven't escaped from that, have you, Dace Zinskas?" Here, her eyes raise, and she looks at Dace with a look that implores him to speak freely. Her veil has dropped just a little and it would be an act of reciprocation to do the same.

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (8)+16: 24

Telamon's eyes flicker, ice in them at Dace's words. But like Lana, it's not directed at the man, but at Seraquoix. "Then it is fortunate that Zalgiman's mortal remains were consigned to ashes and interred. Amazing, though. I didn't think my opinion of Seraquoix could sink any lower, and yet here we are."

He exhales, and offers a hard grin. "You might consider that fate, Zinskas. I may have tried to kill you, but I suspect even death might not save you from Seraquoix's claws."

"You are quite right lady, though I am luckier than most." There's a deep weight in Dace's gaze. "I have no family, no loves, nothing for him to find and hurt save what he has already perverted. This was my calling, my mission, and he has turned it into something to serve his own interests. I will not claim to you to be innocent of evil acts. Nor am I innocent of wrong choices."

He regards Telamon a moment. "Do not think that interment will save Zalgiman if Marsward determines that Zalgiman must be returned to life. He will if he sees the opportunity lay waste to the temple of Vardama which houses his mortal ashes and ransack until he finds them. I would not put any act over Marsward so long as it serves his interests." Dace takes a small breath and then continues. "In fact, as a show of good faith, I will warn you that this is likely - you have freed Micha of his control, and he is beside himself with rage at not having someone to do his dirty work."

There is more than a twinge of disturbance in Cor'lana's eyes. Far more than should be there for someone who was supposedly an enemy of Zalgiman's. "No," she says quietly. "I have to stop that. I _have_ to stop that. I don't want him disturbing him..."

Her eyes go downcast. She takes Telamon's hand and squeezes it gently, closing and opening her eyes with the sharp inhale of a breath herself. "I know that you are intent on serving your god, Dace Zinskas, and that does, indeed, put us at opposition--because we do not want to see this world consumed and destroyed. But I... When I spoke with Zalgiman, when he told me of his life, when he told me of the despair he'd lived under even in service of the Hound, and how Marsward had brought him into that service under false pretenses..."

She looks grim. "I'd swear that I would see Marsward dead. And I know that any hope of convincing you from your mission to unchain the Hound is null and void. But after all of that--I no longer see someone as irredeemable. If your aim is to cast out Marsward from this life..."

And then the violet eyes flash again. This time they show every inch of majesty that she can summon from within herself. "Then in this, we are aligned, but I ask that you and I collaborate. That we speak. That we negotiate." "Of course," Telamon's voice is cool, clinical, dispassionate. "Seraquoix is the sort who does not handle failure well. And he lashes out when he is thwarted. It would be entirely normal for him to lay siege to the Temple of the Harpist out of angry spite, to reclaim what he believes to be his."

His eyes flick from Cor'lana to Dace suddenly, fixing on the man even as Lana grasps his hand for comfort. "You mentioned he had turned your little crusade to something serving his own interests. As a show of good faith... and in the interest of disposing of him... perhaps you could fill us in? Micha, and others, have supplied some useful information -- the entanglements with Charn and beyond, the trafficking with fiends -- but what is his endgame? What does he desire?"

"That much I will tell you and readily." Dace says, nodding to Telamon but fixing his green eyes on Cor'lana. "In the interests of an agreement. Marsward serves a fiend known as V. I did not know this in the beginning, and I think that he has all along. It wishes to command the Red Maw and through it - the celestial body it is tied to. He will, if things go his way, give the Red Maw to V in short order. From there... The havoc it will wreck will change our world forever."

He leans forward subtly. "I can offer you little in the way of help in an effort to kill Marsward directly. His fiends protect him, and even were you to kill him... I doubt he would stay dead long. Instead it would serve you and yours better to aid me in my endeavor however distasteful you might find it to be. I will ask for only one thing."

Dace is silent for a moment, as if considering if he should tell them at all what it is that he came here to ask them for. "A scroll of Mage's Disjunction."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (4)+17: 21
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (11)+17: 28

"It sounds to me that you do not want to give the Red Maw to V," Cor'lana replies. "And in that, we are aligned."

She falls silent for a moment as she looks thoughtful. The name of the spell has a certain effect for her, one that she follows with a question.

"Answer me this. Do you intend to use that scroll to destroy the totems?" she asks. "If the answer is no, then I will bring you the scroll. If the answer is yes--then tell me _why_. Because I can think of no good that would come from freeing the Nightmare. But if you have a reason for doing so--then I want to hear it."

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (17)+16: 33

Telamon hmms. "No. No, I don't think he does. -Each- totem would require a separate casting of the spell, and every one would run certain... risks." Telamon studies Dace. "We know about the portal that sustains the Red Maw. That it is held by a device. Is that your target? Better that the herald of your god be returned home than if it was taken under the sway of a fiend with no loyalty to the Nightmare."

He tilts his head. "After all, it's one thing to serve your god, another to watch one of his minions be put to a purpose not his own. Am I incorrect?"

Rather than answer Cor'lana's more convoluted query, Dace merely nods to Telamon's. His eyes are dark with intent. "I would rather nearly any fate, than that of my god at the hands of Marsward - or worse his master." These words hold a world of emotion. Anger, sorrow, determination.

And these words resonate with Cor'lana. It wasn't all that long ago that a man came into her dream with emotions like these. A flicker of hope amid the snow. Even thinking of it brings an unseasonable gust of cold air that runs through her hair--like how that hand lifted up to touch her hair...

"Then we are in accord. I will obtain this scroll for you. Where shall I deliver it?" Cor'lana asks firmly.

Telamon taps his fingers together, regarding Dace with those cool eyes. "I see," he purrs. "We are in accord. I will assist Lana in securing this scroll. It should not be too difficult to find." He tilts his head. "What will happen when it is used? Or rather, what do you -think- will happen? After all... Seraquoix's reaction is likely to be something akin to a tantrum. Again."

"He will undoubtedly attempt to kill me. If fate is kind, I will kill him instead. If not, then he will kill me. Either way... it will not matter for he will be thwarted." A grim smile and a flicker of victory shine in Dace's eyes. "Either way those that flocked to him because of Zalgiman will fade away. Either way, he will be at an end as a viable threat. To any of us. I am satisfied in that."

Something happens within Cor'lana. Those words once again strike a chord of something within her. And so she says:

"Do not let him prevail over you, whatever happens, and if he should claim your life--then fight him tooth and nail for it. The reason he was able to ensnare Zalgiman was because he was a man on the verge of giving up. If you live for nothing--then live out of spite for the very notion that wicked man will want to be the one to kill you."

Her violet eyes fix Dace for a moment longer. "Life is a struggle, but that need not mean you shall be the loser against someone who seeks to chain you. Let him not fetter you."

Finally, she looks to Telamon. "Unless there is anything more--I believe my husband and I have work to do."

"Indeed," Telamon replies in agreement with his wife. "It is one thing to claim some victory, rather than a total one, but another to lose out completely and not fight. In the end, that is what killed Zalgiman, as surely as anything else." He tilts his head once more, considering Zinskas. "We will see what happens, one way or another. I suppose if nothing else, it will be interesting. But... as Lana says, we have work to do."

"Indeed, and I have preparations of my own - if I am to win, and live." A grim smile has lit his lips, and that shine of victory remains in his gaze as he rises to his feet and lifts a hand. "We may never be allies, but in this I will wish you well. May you find your way in the dark and dream deeply."

With that, he is gone as suddenly and as completely as he had arrived.

-End