What Dark Breaks

After talking to Silmeria, it was clear to Auranar that it was more important than ever to talk to Dolan, but with Verna being moments away from her ressurrection and Silmeria dragged off to other duties... It wasn't as if Auranar could run around looking for him. Instead she briefly exited the temple, found a boy, and paid him a silver piece to find Dolan and bring him back. Then she set to pacing through the alcoves waiting for someone to tell her either that Dolan was here, or that Verna's body was ready and she could join them for the ceremony.

It doesn't take long. Dolan isn't far away, and the boy comes jogging back before long with the Redeemer in tow, dressed most definitely down in a simple shirt and trousers and with no weapons to hand. The direction is puzzling, and by the time he is visible, a frown wreathes the mobile half of his features. Someone was not told what is going on....

Auranar spots Dolan rather quickly. It has something to do with the fact that she's been anxiously awaiting his arrival, and yet the visible frown on his face as he is lead through the temple makes her realize that he might not realize the reason that he is here. Taking a breath she moves forward, thanking the boy that brought Dolan, and offering him another coin that he runs off with hastily. Lest she change her mind. Yet her attention is already on Dolan. How does she tell him... "Dolan..."

She hesitates and her thoughts build up in her mind, her hands wrapping around her middle. She doesn't know how to tell him, and every second she hesitates she knows means that he's probably worrying about Andie or one of his other friends. "It's Verna." She says suddenly, opening and closing her mouth and then looking down. "She was... she's dead." Just saying it out loud hurts more than it seems like she should be able to bear.

Indeed, that was starting to cross Dolan's mind by the time Auranar finally speaks up. "_Fuck,_" he swears, a terribly original and yet not at all expressive response. One fist balls, and he looks like he's about to punch the basalt stone walls. "What happened?" His tone is low and quiet, and it's by an act of will that he doesn't actually punch that stone.

Auranar's features twist with momentary anger, but it dies a short death and she looks away from Dolan. "I don't know. That woman that went with her? Silmeria? She... She said she aimed for one of the cultists and her bullets... They hit Verna instead. She thinks it was an act of the divine but I..." It's clear she hasn't gotten that much faith. She shakes her head and manages to turn her gaze back to the man before her. "She says that the werewolves seem to think that Verna was this 'Woman Between Worlds'. That she could somehow awaken a part of Caracoroth."

"That's what I was afraid of," Dolan mutters, almost at once. "She's partly of the fae, and partly of Ea. She probably can, but that just means that we're going to have to beat the werewolves to whatever they're planning.” He scowls darkly enough that it twists the scarred side of his face, not a pretty sight. "They planning on trying to bring her back?"

The matter of the truth of what Silmeria did, he frowns still more. "Maybe it was, but let's start by getting her back."

Auranar nods. "That's why I'm here. I'm just waiting for them to tell me that-" She trails off as she notices one of the acolytes headed toward her.

The acolyte bows politely to Auranar. "Miss, the room is ready for you.... Ah and your guest?"

Auranar hesitates a moment then nods. "Yes." The acolyte nods and leads them through the temple to one of the rooms before bowing politely again and leaving them in front of the door. Auranar doesn't hesitate to open the door in question. Inside is Verna's body laid out on a slab, a gentleman with dark hair and glittering green eyes on the other side of the slab from Auranar and Dolan. He is generously spreading glittering dust over her body and Auranar moves toward the slab. "Are you performing the ceremony already?"

GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (19)+13: 32

Dolan trails the distraught Auranar inside, and lets his eyes adjust to the light in the room. One minute, he's the good-natured and slightly dirty-minded, aw shucks farm kid, the next he is something entirely different. Wary, watchful, here entirely on business. His head turns as he roves the room, from attendants to details to ... wait a minute. He reaches out to tug sharply on the sleeve of Auranar's dress, a sharp jerk of his head indicating to her that he should be between her and the Vardamen. No trace of smile.

Auranar initially allows Dolan to place himself between her and the man, but her confusion wears off quickly and the realization that she's being protected makes her stop. Why does she need protection from a priest of Vardama? "Sir?" She asks the Vardaman, trying to understand what has Dolan on high alert.

The man in question finishes his spell quickly, glancing up at Dolan and Auranar. "Yes, I am bringing her back to us. She should join us momentarily." A thin smile crosses his lips.

Auranar looks toward Verna's body and she grabs the back of Dolan's shirt for support. Two neat little holes mark the center of Verna's chest. "But... They said she might need healing... when she came back. That there'd be a whole bunch of people to help her through..."

"Auranar." Dolan _never_ uses that tone with her, or around her. It is a tone of unflinching command. In this moment, he is _all_ Daeusite. "Go and get the Vardamen. Quickly. She will need assistance, and so will you. I will help her as much as I can." _I know you,_ his hard gaze at the green-eyed man says. He takes another step towards the bier. "What do you want with Verna?" He minces no words with the man.

The wild elf is stunned by the commanding tone from Dolan. He's never been that demanding to her before, and she realizes then that they are in danger, and Dolan is doing the same thing that Verna always does. Protecting her. Protecting her from the man across the slab, his hands on the same stone that holds Verna's body. "No." It's a whisper. She can't. She can't abandon Verna like this! "NO!"

She stands her ground and refuses to move. Instead she looks at the man that Dolan is staring down and demands her own answer from him. "What are you REALLY doing to Verna?"

The man smiles, and it's not a nice smile. He walks however, away from them, toward a door that leads out of the room via another exit. Likely into the chambers of Vardama's faithful. "I'm ensuring that she dies again."

"I thought so." Platinum, fire, and steel lash through Dolan's baritone, and he raises his voice to a thunderous volume, counting on the echoing stone to carry it through the basalt halls, a silent prayer running through his mind that this be enough. "THE NIGHTMARE INVADES THESE HALLS AND PROFANES HER HOLY SPACE! RUN!" Suiting actions to words, he reaches to grab the lifeless body off of the bier and, if he can, turn towards the other exit.

Auranar isn't expecting that answer. She's totally stunned by it, and then Dolan is yelling and she's motivated finally to action. She can't just leave Verna here, so she opens the door for Dolan. Maybe if they get Verna out... Away from the man with his creepy smile and his glittering eyes... It's her only hope.

The man snarls at Dolan and laughs, heading for the exit closest to him. Yet the denizens of the temple have been roused, and there were already some priests on the way to this room to perform the ritual that was so rudely interrupted by the fake priest.

Unarmed and unarmored, there is little that Dolan can do besides ensure that the man leaves, and does not touch anyone else in the process. That, he does do, leaving Verna to Auranar for the moment and stepping threateningly towards the fake priest. "Get out, if you value your life," he snarls, following to ensure that the fake priest leaves, and that help is on the way.

With Verna in her arms Auranar does her best to drag the other woman's body down the hall. It's no easy task given that they're so similar in size, and Auranar is not terribly good at manual tasks. Still, she's highly motivated. She doesn't wait around to see Dolan confront the fake priest, but points down the hall to the other priests. "Help him! Help Dolan." She waves off anyone who tries to help her with her burden.

Meanwhile the priest in the room with Dolan exits through the door and is... gone. He doesn't return.

The *clomp clomp clomp* of heavy boots sounds down the hall as the alarum is raised, and the generally-placid Temple Under The Mountain becomes a kicked anthill. Skidding around a corner, a somewhat wild-eyed Silmeria pelts toward Auranar and Verna. Gun in hand, shield in the other, silver light gleaming over her form like the glint of a blade's edge, and a towering fury in her eyes.

An unarmed and unarmored Dolan, wearing nothing more than a clean shirt, trousers, and boots, strode back into the room when he was certain the interloper was gone, and is now explaining to several gathered priests. "I know that man. I have seen him before, the night the north gate was attacked. He was the one summoning the fiend-werewolf. He is a servant of Caracoroth, and a damned strong one. He wants Mourner Verna, but the spell he cast is the temporary resurrection. He wants her for his purposes, and then wants her dead so she can't talk. I chased him off, but I don't think I stopped the spell in time. Ain't that damned good."

Her Hall upon Ea is a quiet and somber place where the dead can rest. Until alarms are raised, that is. All the yelling and clanking.. and dragging? Since when was The Basalt Slide part of The Journey. How is someone supposed to-

Verna starts in Auranar's arms, predominantly via taking in a sudden gasping breath. She then immediately coughs and her arms attempt to flail, hands trying to reach to her chest. "Ah... ah... Ahra!?" The word(s) are emphatic, yet mildly confused. In the context of revivification, practice does not always breed perfection. Nor should one attempt so.

"Silmeria!" Auranar waves the woman down, her hands mostly full but she manages to lift one for a few seconds to garner the woman's attention. She spots Dolan explaining things to a few of the confused priests that have gathered near the doors and clings to Verna's body. "He cast a spell on Verna!"

She doesn't know what spell, but when Verna gasps into awareness she is completely surprised. "Verna! Verna? It's me!" She's suddenly filled with relief, sagging and allowing Verna's weight to bear her to the ground.

Well-worn boots slide a couple of paces on the basalt flooring as Silmeria screeches to a halt, brought up short by what is apparently an *extremely premature* resurrection party, with the guest of honor only just waking up. Her eyes light on Dolan as she sets her shield in place, catching the very tail end of his report to the other priests. When the Speaker lowers herself to her knees on Verna's other side, just as she wakens, her face is set with worry. "A *temporary*...? Oh... Oh dear."

Her eyes dart to Auranar, and widen briefly, acknowledging the horribleness of what is about to happen, and helpless to prevent it. "Verna... *Verna.* Mourner. Tell me you're with us. This is *very important.*"

Meanwhile, Dolan searches the faces of the Mourners that surround him. "Is there anything you can do?"

Verna blinks once, twice and then looks upwards. Her sitting/slumped upon the floor has Auranar's words coming from over her head even as the sylvanori crouches with Verna in that sort of rear hug. Yes, there is no dragging, now, which makes it a hug. Tilting her head back, Verna can now confirm the face to the words. "Aura!"

Her face alights from chin to eyes in a manner that confirms she is quite alive. Her mouth contorts into a beaming smile. Her arms redirect their focus upwards, hands grabbing for Auranar by the head and shoulders: to pulled herself up... or bring her Dearest to her. Somewhere between the two, they meet, with Verna answering that rear hug with an upside-down kiss. More than a little emphatically. Verna may have forgotten that breathing is necessary.

Auranar forgets everything. Everything but the taste of Verna's lips. Everything but the suddenly warm and _alive_ woman in her arms. Forgets that Silmeria probably needs an answer to her question. Forgets that Silmeria is there at all. That they're in a hall with a dozen frantic priests. None of it matters to her. Who needs to breathe? She can do so while sharing this moment with Verna.

The priests look from Dolan to Verna and back again. "Well, she was already slated for a more powerful resurrection spell. We can cast that and she should be fine." They look toward the woman and one of the younger priests flushes. "When they're ah.. done."

Verna: Alive, temporarily, but for how long? Dolan: Reporting, in possession of important necessary information. Auranar: ...........Occupied.

As the priests gathered around the Daeusite give the frankly relieving news, Silmeria simply pats Auranar's shoulder, then rises to her feet, addressing the priests. "And there's time for the spell to be finished *before* Verna... goes back?"

For the first time, the hard-nosed look of the Daeusite inquisitor cracks. Dolan looks over at the pair, and a broad grin threatens to crack his face in two. "Auranar, I get it, but she'll taste better if you let them cast the right spell on her first," he calls, then turns back to the priests at hand. "Good. That's a relief. Be careful, because that -" here, he catches sight of Silmeria for the first time, grins sheepishly, and coughs. "The interloper wants the Mourner for his own purposes, none of which are good."

The words around Verna do, in fact, register. There is just little sign of this for several breaths. An eternity. Not nearly long enough. Eventually Verna's grip slackens, though she does not fully release: just enough room to speak and potentially turn her head. "She spoke to me, and I remember!" This, in itself, is a novel, perhaps astounding, event for Verna. Her expression lingers a moment longer with that, and sharing it with Auranar.

Then, her lips purse into a much more Verna-ish frown. "They want me dead, the one who returned me. They-" Her eyes widen and now she suddenly releases Auranar. "It is still inside of me!" She did not particularly wish to release Aura, but it makes it much easier for her to now frantically claw at her clothing.

Auranar smiles stupidly down at Verna, even Dolan's comment can't bring this moment down. Then Verna pulls away and... admittedly she isn't making much sense. But then why should she? She's only just been returned from the dead. "Verna!" She grabs for Verna's hands, trying to stop her from disrobing herself. Her cheeks flaring with embarrassment. "What are you doing?"

She looks toward everyone else with a confused expression that clearly says 'help me'!

"Yes, that should work. Unless something else is going on that we don't know about. Preexisting conditions are a need-to-know." The priest replies, a bit shortly. All of them seem ill at ease, particularly with this business of the Nightmare having been in their own halls.

Silmeria meets Auranar's eyes and nods, once. It's about the best reassurance she can give, because there is information the others seem to be missing. "Mourners. Dolan. When the-- the enemy, was performing their ritual, they impaled her with something. A statue, of something like a man, but twisted. There was no blood, but it's the only thing I can possibly think that would still be inside of her. It's very likely why they followed her back here."

Worried eyes turn to the Daeusite. "Please tell me this statue means something, Ser. This hole in my knowledge has been *gnawing* at me."

Dolan's cracked smile vanishes at that, and he is once more the Daeusite inquisitor, despite being completely unarmed and down to base clothing. The look is not impressive, but with that face, scaring puppies is likely to be reasonably easy. "Yeah, it does, and them impaling her with it means that they didn't mean for us to find it. Stupid move." He takes a step towards her, then looks around at the priests. "The statue is an anchor for the chains that hold Caracoroth in the Abyss," he explains. "There are several of them, and to destroy them, you have to take them to the Dream Realm. I'd bet that's what they had in mind."

He remains where he is, staring at Verna, crossing his arms across his chest. "The good news is that we of the Light can - take control of them. The more we touch, control, get ahold of, the stronger those chains become, but controlling one takes you closer to the Dream Realm, and gives you some ferocious dreams. Not nightmares, like you'll get if you've got one and don't take control of it. Just dreams."

"Or the ritual they started is still in effect!" Verna snaps without looking away from her tugging. "If they wished it within me and then for me to die... " Then they could do nothing and succeed... or do who knows what to her via that thing.

Fortunately for any modesty, she is sitting on her robes so it cannot be just pulled off. Tugging at them with librarian might does not rend them either. "It must come out!" Fortunately, Verna is not an ill-prepared librarian: she spares a hand for her boot. When it pulls back, it is with a dagger held in it.

Auranar lets loose a surprised shout as Verna draws a dagger from her boot. "HELP ME!" She cries out to the others, grabbing for the knife desperately. "What are you thinking? You'll kill yourself!"

GAME: Silmeria casts Remove Fear. Caster Level: 1 DC: 13

"...I see," Silmeria says darkly, brows drawing together. "That would explain their need for a Mouner who was Between Worlds, and I would assume it had to do with what she was discussing with her superior--"

And then Verna starts actually panicking, which grabs her attention... And then, knife.

Oh no, that simply *will not* do.

A handful of quick strides carries her back to Verna's side, lips moving in a rapid, silent prayer. The hands that fold over the one holding the weapon glimmer darkly, and a breath on Verna's mind carries a fleeting memory of the peace of the grave, pushing the fear away from it.

"Easy, Verna," Silmeria murmurs. "Think. If all they needed was for you to die with it in you, the Lady would *never* have guided my bullets to your heart. The ritual was disrupted, and whatever needs to be done for them, still needs the doing."

Loosing a long, shaky sigh, she looks up, to Dolan and the Mourners behind him. "Oh let us *please* get this be-damned thing out of her. Dolan, do you know what one of the Dark can do with the statue?"

"Attune it to themselves, and weaken the chains, or destroy it entirely, if they get it to the Dream Realm." Dolan's arms drop, and he looks to the other priests. "Be careful, because your blood is what attunes one of these things to you. It is easy to tell whether it is attuned to the Light or not, and if it looks like a twisted man, it's not." Still frowning, he walks over towards where Verna lies. "Let's get the spell cast first, so that that temporary doesn't end on you. Then when you're healed, we'll get it out of you."

"I know a few people of the Light who've got one," he goes on. "There's only one that's supposedly attuned to someone of the Light that I'm not so sure about," he mutters, beginning now to ramble. "I'm told some Elunan attuned one to himself by accident. Don't know the name, or where he is now. S...damn it. S-something."

From Auranar's touch, Silmeria's soothing, or Dolan's knowledge... Verna calms. She does not immediately release the dagger, but she no longer attempts to drive it anywhere to cut. Her attention lifts from herself to Auranar, eyes locking there as her breathing slows and her pained expression diminishes. "No. It must be removed first. It was as a twisted mockery of a human... She answered my prayer to halt events, but that is not all. She spoke to me in a dream while I was in Her Hall: that I would be returned only for a short time. That the one who did so wished me to die again. That the statue must be removed if I am to live."

Her hand within Auranar's moves, releasing the dagger from her own grasp, her hand from Auranar's, yet promptly closing it again around Auranar's to press her grip about the hilt. "That the only one who could remove it was one I love..." While not fearful, her face contorts in something not too far from it and her cheeks wet with tears. "It can only be you, Dearest. It should not be, but it is."

There is another long pause, and her lips flicker upward slimly. It is a forced smile, at best. "Fret not. At worst, this would make us even?"

Auranar looks at Verna in horror. She takes the knife, but only - only to keep it from Verna's hands. "Did your spell fail? Is she... well?" She's worried that something has gone awry with the revivification and Verna is not herself. Maybe she's being affected by the thing inside her. "Or maybe that thing is making her say things she doesn't understand?"

Even as she says it, she knows how stupidly hopeful it sounds. Anything so that she doesn't have to... DO THAT.

"...Dolan my friend," Silmeria says, sounding tired and annoyed and so many other things all at once, "I dearly wish I were able to give your joke the laughter it deserved. I expect we'll be short on smiles for a time." Lifting her spectacles and giving the bridge of her nose a pinch, she turns to the Mourners. "Okay. Yes. We can do the ritual, but if *Mourner Verna* says she remembers what the Lady told her, I accept this as fact. *Get.* *Healers.* I'll not let this poor lady do what needs to be done without *some* support."

She pauses for a moment, as a thought strikes. "Dolan... You said if someone 'of the light' bleeds on the thing, it'll strengthen the prison. Best guess, what happens if it becomes attuned to Twilight?"

Vardama has never been a Goddess of Light, for all that her literally legendary adoration of Serriel brings her into... frequent contact... with the Light. As far as the Speaker can tell, we're in uncharted waters, deep and murky.

GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/arcana: (18)+7: 25

That is a question, and one that Dolan has to search his mind to answer. He drops to his knees, his earlier rambling forgotten. "Probably nothing good," he allows. "It could involve breaking chains, summoning," Unaccountably, a shudder ripples through him, like a cold night wind. "Wouldn't want to try it. Let's get it out of her."

His attention turns then to Auranar. "She knows exactly what she's talking about, if that's what the Lady told her. "It's not fun, but if you want her to live, you'll do as she says. Sometimes, this shit's about the hard choices."

He means that, his stare at her with both flesh and artificial eyes. "Get healers. Andie knows healing. I don't. It's what she does. We'll need them to help her."

"Auranar," her name is uttered softly as a hand lifts to brush her cheek and Verna leans closer to her. Where all focus lies. That the others echo what Verna believes to be the truth makes it moreso, though not any more pleasant. The call for healers is also no small reassurance. "All is well. A few moments of pain for a lifetime with you is an inconsequential cost. Have faith and trust. The Harpist has reunited us more than once, and shall ever do so. If would not trust in Her, then trust in me. I entrust all to you."

It could be readily said that Auranar has a far steadier hand and skill with a knife, as well. However, in Verna's relationship reading, comparing an individual to a peace of meat is considered highly offensive, so she does not mention it.

GAME: Auranar rolls Will: (9)+4: 13

Auranar can't believe that everyone is listening to this. That they believe it. She feels lost in a world gone mad, as if she's the only sane one in the room. Verna touches her and she looks at the other woman with hope that she'll change her mind. That she'll change what she's _saying_. But she doesn't. She doesn't and it breaks something in Auranar.

_Have faith._

Faith in a goddess who took Verna from her in the first place. Or... Faith in Verna. She believes in Verna. "You... you can't die on me again." She whispers, clenching her hand around the knife. Shakily she brings it to bear over the other woman's stomach. "Promise. Promise me you'll stay with me." Her hand hovers over Verna's stomach, but she hasn't the will to pierce the flesh.

Silmeria shoots a Look at Dolan, the sort that says 'We're doing this *now?!*' But it seems they are, and with no time to arrange for material support... Moral will have to do. With a touch on Auranar's shoulder, Silmeria leans in. "She won't die, Auranar. You can do this, and you will. She needs you, and you're here for her."

There's another faint glimmer on her hand, and a gentle thread of surety that steadies the elf's hands. "Nothing else matters."

GAME: Silmeria casts Guidance. Caster Level: 9 DC: 12

For his part, Dolan's said his piece, and he steps back to give the woman room to work.

Verna's face warms and contorts into a warm smile. She is far inferior to Auranar in that regard (among several), but she makes her best effort. A hand moves to her shoulder, and another to her waist, in a semi-embrace. "I will not leave you, you have my word. There is nowhere I would rather be." She then pulls her close, or herself closer to Auranar, in a tighter embrace. As well, a bit of aid with that most difficult part, to spare her Dearest some of that pain. Verna is still a bit overprotective, for better or worse.

The movement of Verna's body presses her onto the knife, and Auranar is so surprised that she gives the blade a little jerk before she manages awkwardly to pull it out. It's clear that she's never stabbed someone before. The blade clatters to the ground as Auranar quickly puts her hand over the wound. Slick blood has her fingers sliding over the injury and... "Oh gods... There's something _inside_!" She knows her anatomy and it's not... natural.

Driven by impulse more than anything else she pulls and a statue comes out of Verna's stomach. Not nearly the size of the one that had gone into her, and even as everyone watches the statue shifts into the figure of a heavily cloaked female figure.

Auranar stares at the statue even as the priest collect around Verna. Healing her injury and pulling her away from Auranar. The wild elf tries to follow but she's pushed back by the clergy. She cries silently as they take Verna away to perform their rituals, their magic, holding the statue in her bloody hands and wishing it were Verna instead. "I'm sorry." She doesn't even know if Verna is okay. "I'm sorry."

-End