The Chills a Devil Leaves

The day is rainy and cool if not precisely cold. A good day for snuggling up with blankets. Which is precisely what Auranar is doing. She shivers in spite of them, her feet tucked up under her in the chair, her tea sitting in her lap. For a change of pace there's no book in sight, and she lolls her head back against the chair lazily. "Half a mind to return to bed." She mutters entirely to herself.

Today is, indeed, a day to sleep. There are some people, though, that sleep escapes no matter how much they might wish otherwise, and Dolan is one of these, today. No matter how much he'd rather stay in bed, though, he hasn't seen Auranar since she was nearly killed, and her welfare is very much on his mind. With Tanith's information on how to proceed and what they need to do to stop this menace, his heart is just a little lighter today, and being weary and aching is just a little more tolerable.

He wears a winter-weight, high-collared shirt in a deep brown, and the sheepskin jacket over it, the glass shaken out of it by now, and the padded leather cuff secured tightly around his shoulder. Above that, the traveler's cloak to shed rain. He hesitates at the door for a moment, hoping that Auranar is awake, and raps on the door, more gently than is sometimes his style.

The gentle knock is more than enough to draw Auranar's attention. Seeing as that she's doing nothing but half drifting off to sleep. "One moment!" She calls out, voice hoarse and she winces at the sound of it. With a sigh she sets her tea cup aside and clamors out of her blanket nest to go to the door.

The wild elf is wearing a simple comfortable dress today, in fact it might be one of Verna's given the gray color which looks... not terribly great on Auranar. Not because the fit is bad, but gray isn't the best color for her clearly. She opens the door very carefully, only a tiny bit and looking warily outside. In truth she looks entirely ready to slam it shut again.

"Dolan?" Her voice is better this time, but she immediately starts shivering and urges him inside quickly. "Come in, come in. Goddess it's cold out there!" She closes the door as soon as she's able and motions to Dolan to set his cloaks by the door. "Would you like some tea?" She shivers again.

Seeing the shivering, Dolan immediately steps in and out of the weather, setting his cloaks aside to dry by the door as indicated. "Yeah, please. Tea's welcome." He grimaces, then turns around to face her. "Thank you. Are you okay?" Sudden concern floods him as he gets a good look at her.

Really Auranar's not looking her best. Her skin is a bit pale, her whole body shivers from time to time in spite of the relative warmth. She moves toward the fire eagerly, but she is in obvious discomfort. "Yea. Just can't seem to shake these shivers? I'm so cold." She pours a cup of tea for Dolan, and even her nearness to the fire doesn't seem to help very much. She sighs and motions him toward a chair before sitting in hers and starting to wrap herself back up. "This is the worst cold I've ever had I think. No stuffy nose, I feel almost fine but I'm SO cold all the time."

GAME: Dolan rolls heal: (2)+8: 10

The relative warmth is a welcome thing to Dolan, and he makes no move to remove the sheepskin jacket - at least, not at first. "Here, I'll get the tea, if you'll tell me where you keep it." If she directs him, he sets about refreshing and warming the pot of tea, and gathering cups for both of them. "Cold are miserable things, and all you want to do is lie in bed." He turns back to grin crookedly at her -

-and stops short, looking at her closely. "Aura, did Jal'goroth draw blood when he hit you?" he asks suddenly, his tone suddenly turned from sympathetic to out-and-out worried.

Auranar, though she is loathe to let her guest tend her is clearly too tired to fight Dolan, and lets him set about with the tea. She relaxes in the chair, but fire, blankets, curled up as she is. Nothing seems to do much for the bone-coldness that sends shivers through her body. "Actually..." She nods, thinking about it. "When he punched me... well it cut my scalp open a bit, and he left some scratches on my arms that bled a little."

She seems embarrassed by the whole situation, ducking her head and staring at her blanket. "I'm so sorry about that Dolan. The whole situation got out of control because of me."

"You had no idea," Dolan answers immediately, pouring tea into the pot and pouring fresh, hot water over it from the kettle. He sets the kettle on the earth and sets the tea aside to steep - and to cool, as it will yet be too hot to drink. "The shitstain finally showed his true self. I've been looking for that one for a while." A scowl accompanies the hard words.

"You need to see a Temple healer, Aura," he goes on, frowning. "Jal'goroth's an ice devil, and cuts from fiends can do some nasty shit to you. I've had it happen to me before. It needs a temple healer to do something about it. It's beyond my ability."

Auranar waves a hand weakly, offering a wan sigh. "Verna healed me afterwards, the cuts and bruises didn't last long. I'm sure that this is just a cold and will pass." She looks at the tea with a longing expression. "How are you Dolan? After that... you must have a lot on your mind."

"You've been sick the whole time we were gone, Aura?" Dolan doesn't drop the matter, bringing the teapot over closer to Auranar so that she can feel the warmth. "It ain't ready to pour," he warns as he sets it down and goes to get cups for the both of them. "Andie says we were gone close to a week."

Auranar seems to think about it a bit, her brow furrowing, but offering a small smile to Dolan as he sets the pot closer to her. She's grateful for every bit of warmth. "I guess yes. I've been having trouble keeping track of the time because I get tired easily. Naps are bad for your ability to tell what day of the week it is."

That's not good news at all, and Dolan's frown is by now spread across the entire mobile half of his features. It only makes his scarring look more formidable. He seats himself in a chair nearby, where he can see her clearly and is reasonably close to the fire, and flexes his left shoulder carefully. "You need a Temple healer, Aura. I doubt this is just a cold. Not where any devil is involved, and definitely not where an ice devil is involved. Don't you worry about me. I know what I have to do now to put a stop to all this b-" He stops. "Madness," he changes the word with a crooked smile that evaporates as quickly as it came. "Sorry, I found out on that trip just how out of shape I'd gotten."

Auranar finally looks like she might be a little worried. "I trust your instincts Dolan. I'll... I'll go to the temple." She looks like she's thinking very seriously suddenly and then she sighs and rubs her forehead. Dolan's words make her smile though. "You mean 'bullshit' you don't have to watch your words around me Dolan. Was the trip very physically demanding then? Verna told me the main gist of things last night, but not really the details."

Now that Dolan is seated, he leans back into the chair, still shooting the occasional worried look at Auranar. "You know how time is a little different in Quelynos? Like you might be gone a few hours or a few days, and here it'll be half a mark?" He pauses for a moment before going on, rubbing carefully at the shoulder beneath the brace. "I have no idea how long we walked, but Dirk said we were at the center of the entire realm when we got there. We didn't really need to eat or sleep, so I couldn't tell you how far it was. Damned far. Tanith said something about getting us back before time caught up with us. I hurt."

Auranar's smile becomes a soft thing. "Well, I'll be glad of your company, you can just sit here and relax with me a bit." She settles into her chair even more, still shivering occasionally. "It sounds like it was quite the trip."

"Yeah," Dolan answers quietly, letting the crackle of the fire overtake words for a minute or two. He gets up, then, and pours the both of them tea, holding Auranar's cup where she can reach it without putting more than a hand out of the blankets, waiting for her to take it before taking his own back to his seat. "I can't deny that I'm blessed, Aura. Even with all the horror going on - I've got to be doing something right."

Auranar leans forward gratefully, even more grateful that Dolan isn't making her lean for the tea very far. She takes the cup and as Dolan's hand releases the cup, it tips and her hand simply slips the cup and it goes tumbling to the floor. Immediately Auranar gasps, surprised and looking at the spill in aghast. The spill visibly upsets her and she starts to detangle herself from her blanket - which thankfully didn't get wet. But the floor... The tea cup too is fine, the short drop didn't break it, but the floor is a mess.

Auranar lets out a helpless giggle finally. "You might be blessed Dolan, I don't doubt that, but I think I'm cursed today. That's the third cup of tea I've dropped."

Immediately, Dolan's on his feet again, his own teacup set aside with a splash on the nearest table, and moving for a towel to clean up the mess. It takes him a minute, in an unfamiliar house, to find one, but he comes back and immediately sets to cleaning up the mess. He turns out to be quite meticulous and thorough, and he sets the tea-soaked towel and the empty cup aside on the hearth for a moment, renewed worry immediately evident. "The third today? Are you shaking that much?" He stops, about to reach for the empty cup to refill it. "Two hands, this time, Aura, and I'm about to pick you up and take you to the Temple myself."

Auranar is much more careful the second time, using both hands as suggested. Dolan might well recognize that there's more than just a fine tremble in her arms from shivering, but that she actually seems to be suffering some weakness. "You are not carrying me anywhere." She snorts, huddling around the tea cup and even taking a careful little sip. She doesn't care that it's a little too hot to drink. The warmth is a blessing. "I just need to be more careful. Fumbling fingers you know?" She looks at him gratefully. "Thank you Dolan for cleaning all that up. Sit with me some more? Tell me all about your being blessed."

"I'm not going anywhere until the rain stops, Aura." When the cleaning is done and tea is restored, the towel is left on the hearth, but Dolan returns to his seat. "The first time I came across the devil that grabbed you, he was disguised. I went after him, and for a moment I thought he had me, because suddenly, my eye stopped working. I called on the Sunlord to guide my blade, to take him out, even half-blind - and he answered." Reverence and awe color his tone, and he picks up his teacup again, cradling it. "I think Andie's right. I've got to be doing something right. On the trip, I asked him if we were in the presence of one of His? I - started glowing. Not just glowing, it damn near blinded me for a minute. It was enough to light a cavern many times bigger than us. I - I haven't talked to the Sunguards about it. It doesn't seem like something I should go bragging about, yeah?"

Auranar listens with interest and no small amount of awe herself. "That's... I can see why you wouldn't want to tell a lot of people. Where the gods leave their blessings can draw unwanted attention. Of which I think you have had more than your fair share..." She hesitates. "Maybe that's why. Maybe Daeus is showing you that you've proven yourself to him. So he's showing you his blessings more often?"

Dolan mulls over this idea in silence, taking a long, slow pull from his teacup before answering. "I -" Suddenly, a flash of a conversation previously had, in a much different place than this, when first he was planning the endeavor that changed his life, comes to mind, and his lone natural eye blinks several times. "I passed the test."

"Test?" Repeats Auranar. "What test?"

Dolan opens his mouth to speak, and a shudder ripples through him. Wordlessly, he shakes his head, clamping his lips together. It's a good question, though, and he remains silent, the mobile half of his features twisting as he tries to pull himself together enough to get the words out. "I - I laid myself on the line to get the answers we needed," he manages finally, after several more sips of tea. "A - test of my own strength."

Auranar's eyes darken and she looks at her tea suddenly for a moment. "I'm sorry Dolan. I shouldn't have asked. But... I think you're right." She looks at him quietly. "I think that you've more than proven your strength. If the gods were going to shine their light on anyone; you deserve it."

"You think?" When Dolan looks up, the visage of the sharp-eyed inquisitor is almost entirely gone, outside of the scarred mask that he will wear for the rest of his life, replaced by the look and stance of a farmboy, just a bit awkward and _aw shucks_. "I - I'm just a farm kid at heart, Aura. I'm way beyond anything I thought I'd ever be doing. I just try to give it all I've got."

"That's more than most do Dolan." She replies with an easy smile. She feels privileged to see him relax like this. "Most don't give their all you know? And those that do don't have the kind of fortitude that you have proven to have. I'm sure that sometimes you feel... I don't know... in over your head? But you always try anyways. You always do what you can."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Dolan shrugs his good shoulder and frees one hand to scratch at his hairline, clearly embarrassed. "Nothing ever got done just sitting there wondering what you're supposed to do. Especially not when you're dealing with fiends. I - all I've tried to do be worthy of what I've been given."

"Clearly Daeus, sees you as worthy Dolan. He's given you His holy light at least twice now. Blessed you body and blade for your efforts." Auranar smiles and sips her tea carefully. "I know you've won friends and new-made family to your side. If you're really uncertain though... maybe when that little golden dragon wakes up you could ask her if she thinks you've proven yourself. I'll bet my last good dress that she says you are."

Dolan seems caught off guard by the suggestion, and pauses in his sipping of tea. "I-" He trails off, floundering. "What more proof do I need, I suppose. It's just - hard to believe, yeah? I guess what we're tackling is something that gods care about, yeah? Enough to pay personal attention to." He leans back in the chair, then leans forward again. "I know we're on the right path, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for the guidance."

Auranar is pale enough that the slight rise of color to her cheeks is visible. She smiles at Dolan. "Just trying to do my part too you know?" She glances down and looks embarrassed herself. "Even if it's just advice and research."

There's the sound of splashing outside the house that turn into more solid footsteps as someone approaches the door--a someone who Auranar would know quite well. Cor'lana's looking almost a little annoyed as she knocks and waits at the door, but the annoyance is only present as she looks over her shoulder, as though expecting someone or something to appear that she'll have to shoo away. But she puts a smile on her face when she turns to face the door more fully, a basket hanging off the crook of her arm.

"That reminds me, I've got to tell you what Albus told us." Dolan snaps his fingers, but at the knock at the door, immediately bolts to his feet. "Stay put," he warns, and immediately strides over to the door, cracking it open at first to peer through it, and then opening it more fully almost at once. "Lana, brightest of days. Aura's sick, so I'm sitting with her." The sound of boots at the door accompanies this.

"Dolan!" Auranar protests, leaning forward to set her tea cup down and start unwrapping herself from her blankets. "I can get the door!" She is only partially out of her seat by the time that Dolan is already answering the door, but the sound of her sister's name makes Auranar cheer up immediately and she pushes herself to her feet. A step forward. "Cor'lana?" The wild elf is clearly more stubborn than she should be, making her way toward the door in spite of Dolan's stern warning.

She should have listened.

Halfway to the door her whole body is shaking and she's covered in sweat. "I... don't feel so good." She manages weakly.

"Hi, Dolan--Auranar's sick?" Cor'lana's violet eyes are wide as she looks at Dolan, and then peers past him to see Auranar struggling behind him. Cor'lana walks to her and puts an arm on Auranar's shoulder, frowning deeply. "Do you want me to help you back to the couch? Should we escort you to a Temple?"

"She needs to see a Temple healer," Dolan interjects worriedly, closing the door behind Cor'lana and turning back to find Auranar struggling. He strides back to the pair, and reaches down to scoop the wild elf up with his right hand, leaning her carefully against his shoulder and carrying her the short distance back to her chair. "Tempted to carry her there, myself," he adds darkly. "It might be possible to bring one here, too. Jal'goroth got her." He sets the wild elf down very gently, allowing her to settle herself back into her own blanket nest.

Despite the apparent strain of picking her up one-handed, he makes no move to involved that braced left shoulder.

The strain of having walked shows plainly on Auranar's face, and she settles into her seat more slowly than before. She ends up struggling even to get her blanket into place, and ends up frustratedly sitting there half-covered and unhappy. "I don't understand it. I'm just..." She blinks once, forcing back her frustration and replacing it with determination. "I'm fine. You're not carrying me _anywhere_ Dolan. Don't think I can't see the brace you're wearing. Don't think I've forgotten. I'll be fine."

Cor'lana... looks thoughtful. "I actually have a scroll that'll let me become quite a lot stronger," she says, "at the cost of making me unable to cast magic for a little while. Potentially, I could cast my magic wing spell, then the magic from the scroll, and carry Auranar off to the temple, but then Verna could probably see that and worry... so nevermind that."

She looks at Auranar more thoroughly and frowns. "At least let me help you with your blanket," she says, and she goes to tuck in Auranar with the blanket. "Has Grandfather stopped by? He has an uncannily good knack for detecting when I'm sick and need some care, although I think anything that involves sickness caused by a demon really is beyond his purview."

"Then we bring someone here." Dolan's statement is firm. He doesn't deny the truth of Auranar's words, though, and a shadow crosses both halves of his feature, the shadow of multiple worries. He allows Cor'lana to tuck Auranar in, and in the meantime goes to get a third teacup. "You're cold to touch, Auranar," he adds, rubbing at his forearms. "I know who I'd call for, but he might not be available," he says thoughtfully, wincing as he realizes that Auranar has been alone with demon-sickness for a good week now.

Auranar bundles herself up quite tightly, shivering under her blanket and frowning at Dolan. "That's more trouble than it's worth." She looks longingly at her tea but doesn't reach for it. Instead she looks brightly at Cor'lana. "Grandfather? Oh, it'd be lovely to see him. I haven't though. I..." She blinks and looks confused a moment.

"I had thought maybe he was busy keeping an eye on you. But I forgot that you were in the fae lands. Maybe he was busy keeping an eye on you there?" She's shaking almost constantly. It looks exhausting.

"There was a figure that was following us in Quelynos, and Tel said it had taloned hands like Grandfather does, but... It wouldn't answer us and kept disappearing." Cor'lana frowns a little, reaching for Auranar's tea and holding it out for Auranar to drink. "And I haven't heard from him in a while. It's a little troubling if he disappears for longer periods of time..."

She looks to Dolan with concern glittering in her violet eyes. "Dolan, forgive me--I'm not a healer nor do I claim to be one. Do we know for certain it's from Jal'goroth alone?" Then she looks to Auranar. "You haven't come into contact with anything else unusual besides the demon, have you? Because Aura, you feel _cold_ as can be..."

"What else would it be?" Dolan pauses, in the middle of the room, turning back to Cor'lana. "It started after he almost threw you off the balcony, right?" He turns himself more fully to face Auranar, to await the answer,, and only then back to Cor'lana. "Yeah. I saw that too. We were being watched. This doesn't have anything to do with the other thing we were talking about?" he asks carefully.

Auranar has to think about Cor'lana and Dolan's question. "Just the devil. I didn't notice that I wasn't feeling well until later that night. After Verna had healed me already. I just assumed it was a cold. I didn't want to keep her home from the trip... You guys needed her." She looks at Cor'lana. "Maybe he couldn't say hello due to some fae rule of the area? If he hasn't come to visit you in a while then I'm worried that he's off thinking he shouldn't bother you again. Being lonely." Her eyes flicker between Cor'lana and Dolan, but she doesn't ask the burning question that Dolan's secretiveness brings to mind.

Cor'lana visibly chews on the question that Dolan asks, and she shakes her head after a moment. "I don't think so," she says. "I hope it doesn't. I'm just... Grandfather has more to worry about than the family, and while he is prone to spells of loneliness and isolation, there could be other things afoot. Things I don't know about, that could affect Auranar, too--because she's part of my family now, and that could very well make her a target too."

The sorceress regards Dolan a moment more. "There's... a relative of Grandfather's," she says. "He takes the form of a rook with violet eyes. He's called the Corpse-Eater, and for a time, he was harassing Telamon and I. Then he stopped for a while--but we've received warnings about him. Forgive me for jumping at shadows. I just want to rule out all the possibilities."

She grumbles a little in frustration. "I need to get powerful enough where I can shift between this plane and Quelynos without issue," she says. "So I can go check on Grandfather without asking someone for aid every time, or relying on scrolls. I'm very nearly there."

Dolan turns toward the chair he's vacated, and gestures that Cor'lana should take the chair so indicated. He himself moves over towards the sofa, but leans against the arm, facing the other two. "Yeah," he says quietly. "It's frustrating, to be so close and yet not quite." That is all he says, hooking his thumbs in his belt and watching the two woman as they talk of things beyond his ken.

"I hope he hasn't taken to bothering Grandfather." Auranar murmurs only half to herself. She gives a little huff. "Plane-hopping is beyond me too. I know that Verna can do it, but I feel the same way you do Cor'lana. It's frustrating having to ask for help all the time. Though I think she might like to meet him."

A warm light flashes in her eyes. "Maybe we could do that soon! Make a family trip out of it and visit grandfather. If you're willing to stick around until Verna gets home we can talk to her about it together."

Cor'lana takes the chair that Dolan's vacated, offering him a thank you and a small smile. Then the idea of the family trip is brought up, and she looks practically delighted. "Verna has met Grandfather before--and she was actually the one who took Telamon and I to visit Grandfather's house," she says. "But I think a repeat visit is overdue. That way, we can all put the notion of worrying about Grandfather to rest." It's an optimistic notion, all things considered.

There's a moment where Cor'lana looks out a nearby window, and then she sighs. "In other news... I, uh. Both of you have more... lived experience in certain matters than I do. So..."

She looks stone-faced. "How do I tell a man no so firmly that he stops trying to woo me?"

"It depends on the man," Dolan, who had set down his teacup next to the teapot and started towards the door, pauses and turns around. "If it's the one I think you mean, I doubt he'll going to take anything politer than a sword in the ribs for a no. You've done yourself no favors on this, Lana. He's one of those sorts who think that anything they want is theirs for the taking, if they're only strong enough, and never mind anything such as existing relationships." He folds his arms across his chest, very carefully. "Tel will probably have to step in, and I'll be happy to do the same."

Auranar frowns at the question, clearly thinking of a few choice words that she might have for such a man in such a situation. Her hair is wet where it's near her face, and her lips are half-parted with her breath. "I'd... try that." Auranar says slowly, blinking her eyes with equal slowness. "What... who's bothering y-you Cor'lana?" Her teeth are chattering now, and no amount of blanket seems to be warming her sufficiently.

"It's precisely who you think it is, Dolan," Cor'lana says with a small sigh. She looks to Auranar. "He's a slimy man who is related to Dace Zinskas, the leader of the Hound's followers at the camp, named Zalgiman. He's also the man I... used my feminine wiles to get a totem from, and he's apparently become rather... taken with me. I may very well send a strongly-worded letter back to Zalgiman if he keeps sending messengers to recite poetry at my doorstep."

Then she looks with concern at Auranar. "Your teeth are _chattering_, Auranar. Is there anything I can do for you?" she asks.

The door to The Residence opens to allow Verna entrance bearing a basket of purchases, though she does not immediately close it behind her. Rather, her hood is turned towards the rear, "I believe she will like these... Dearest," she then calls as she turns, "I hope that you do not mind-" she then notes those present in the lounge, "company. It appears not. Good day to you all." She moves to set the basket down to doff her hood and cloak and clear the doorway.

"Then you're just playing hard-to-get, Lana, and it'll just make him try harder." That is all that Dolan gets out, though, before the door opens. He has stepped forward, his arms lowered, apparently ready to defend them both, but relaxes when he sees who it is, real relief flooding the mobile half of his features and tugging at the scars. "Brightest of days, Verna. Auranar needs a temple healer. Now." The words are urgent and firm, the sharp eye and stern gaze of the Redeemer's inquisitor mode very much in evidence. "It looks as if Jal'goroth has made her sick."

Right behind Verna is Telamon, dressed in a broadbrimmed hat and a rain-cloak over his tunic, trousers, and boots. "I think so too. Seven triumphs is kind of overkill for a cold, and I've heard good things about that alchemist." He helps Verna remove her cloak and hood, hanging them up before hanging his own cloak and hat. "And honestly, I'd rather be here with family." At Dolan's declaration, though, he pauses, and tilts his head. "I won't ask 'are you sure'."

Auranar half-lifts a hand. In truth she's not looking so great. Her skin is a little pale and she's been clearly sweating. "I... fine." She says breathlessly, her chest rising slowly but heavily. "Just... tired." Her eyes are doing the long blink.

Then on one long blink she just... doesn't open her eyes. Instead she slumps over in her chair, her breath shallow as if her body is having trouble lifting the muscles necessary for breath.

Any notion of complaining about Zalgiman goes out the window with Auranar slumping and breathing so shallowly. Cor'lana rises from her chair, maintaining her composure, somehow, as she witnesses her sister drawing deeper into sickness. "We're _really_ sure, darling," she responds to Telamon. "Verna, get over here now, please. Tel, are you able to provide transport with the floating disk? If Verna can't treat her, we need to get her to a temple as soon as possible."

Verna does not even state her lack of need to confirm Dolan's concerns. He does not need to be correct; the mere possibility is more than enough reason to examine her and/or take her to the temple. "Very well." She moves to Auranar directly, crouching at her side attempting to mentally compare her state now to that when she left not long ago, though a purely objective analysis may not be possible. "You are not fine until the healers state you are, love, and you shall receive all the rest you require."

GAME: Verna rolls heal: (15)+20: 35

"I know my shit when it comes to fiends." Apparently satisfied that Auranar is now getting, or at least starting to get, the care she needs, Dolan reaches to grab the teapot off the nearby table, and takes himself into the next room with it. Cups start to rattle, and the sound of water being poured.

Telamon actually jumps when he sees Auranar slump. "One day I'll learn not to -say- things like that." He holds his hand out, parallel to the floor as Verna rushes over to Aura. "Emegar maltum!" There's a ripple, then a shimmering blue disk of force spins its way out of nothing, hovering next to him. "Alright, if we can't treat her here, let's head to the Vardamen temple. It's closest." He fishes his gyroparasol out of his haversack. "To keep the rain off her," he explains.

Auranar does not respond to words or prodding. She is for all intents and purposes quite unconscious now. Each passing second worsens her condition. It's as if the strength that remains in her body is being slowly drained out of her.

"To the temple, now!" Verna shifts from check Auranar to shifting her arms underneath her. "I cannot treat a fiendish disease here and now.. Aura, we have you. Rest and breath easy..." Even as she, herself, is anything but, in attempting to relocate her to the disk.

Given that she's not a healer, Cor'lana tries to be helpful like Dolan. "Don't wait on me to get her to the Temple," she says firmly as she gets up and walks off in search of where Verna and Auranar keep their clothes. "I'm just grabbing a change of clothes for her. Get her out of here _quickly_."

Fortunately for Verna, Dolan has put down the tea makings and strides back into the room, a look of complete focus written plainly in every tense line of his body. "Here, let me. I've got her." He doesn't wait for approval, just shoulders his way through and, with some effort, lifts her with one arm, cradling her against his shoulder. He does not use the left arm for anything except to steady her, and carefully lays her down on the floating disk. "Someone grab those blankets, she'll want them. They don't help much, but they'll give her some privacy and some protection from the rain. Come on." As soon as that is done, he turns and strides for the door.

"Sisig bursag!" is Telamon's next contribution, a shimmer in the air the sign of an unseen servant. Once Auranar is in place on the disk, Telamon begins to move with her, following Dolan to the door. He passes the gyroparasol to his servitor as they step outside, and smoothly the parasol opens, shielding Auranar from the rain. "Stay with us, sister," he says with quiet resolve. "We'll have you sorted out soon enough."

GAME: Auranar rolls Fortitude: (2)+3: 5

Everyone piles out of the house, Auranar in tow. It's clear that her breathing is becoming more and more labored as they move hastily toward the temple. She's completely unresponsive. Not even a flicker of her eyelids to suggest that she can hear what's going on around her. About halfway to their destination the sound of her labored breathing stops. Instead there's a sort of wheeze. Like oxygen being forced through an area too small for it. Her chest isn't strong enough anymore to rise and fall.

Verna should thank Dolan. Telamon. She should be concerned for Dolan's own medical restrictions. The weather. In truth, she is. She simply is not at the moment. Her attention is rather focused as she hustles along with the disk. "All will be well, love," she assures, as she can do little else at present. "You will soon be-" there is a gasp that is not Auranar's. "We must move faster! Much faster!" The assurance is absent from her tone as it is replaced by growing panic.

Cor'lana had managed to find a change of clothes and had taken the blankets off the couch, following Dolan's direction, for Auranar's protection and comfort. But when that wheeze escapes her sister, Cor'lana's violet eyes go as wide as can be when she realizes what's happening. And she does the first thing that comes to mind: murmured words, followed by the flicker of magic. A hastening spell. "_Run_ to the temple!" she commands.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Haste. Caster Level: 13 DC: 20
GAME: Telamon casts Unseen Servant. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18
GAME: Telamon casts Floating Disk. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18

As it happens, as soon as they're clear of the stairs, Dolan didn't need to wait for instructions to do just that. He'd already seem how quickly she went from bad to worse, from the hour plus he'd already spent in her company before anyone else arrived, and he'd already taken off at a dead run, heedless of his own concerns and the rain that now pours down. There are larger concerns, and he doesn't wait for others.

Since the others are hasted, they're already nearly to the temple when he returns with a gray-and-sand-robed figure at his heels, moving just a bit slower. It's the sight of the floating disk that causes the figure to speed up, and they're there in moments, the figure taking over quickly. Up close, the man is human, with iron-gray hair and a craggy face that suggests experience. "Fiends are not my expertise," he begins slowly, "but I see what was meant."

Speed is of the essence now, and Telamon aims to please, hurrying along as swiftly as he can. When they approach the temple, Tel exhales in relief as he sees Dolan returning with a priest. "Fiendish it may be, but if it is a disease it can be purged from her. In the meantime her strength wanes; if you need to, buy her time by replenishing that." He has taken Auranar's hand in his, and squeezes it as if to try to lend her some of his own spirit.

"Yes, if we are to cure the disease, first she must have her strength restored." The priest says perhaps much too calmly. He doesn't waste too much time on explanations however. Instead he gets right to work in the rain, praying to his god to restore some of Auranar's strength. Then he gets to his feet, watching carefully as Auranar's breathing evens out some, and her chest starts to rise and fall once more. "Come bring her in. She's not out of the woods just yet."

In some ways, to Verna, it feels as if the effects of Quelynos are in effect and even apparent: even as they move more quickly, her sense of time seems to slow to a crawl. Her eyes never leave Auranar, even after the sense of relief when they reach the temple and she becomes aware of Dolan and the presumed Mourner meeting them. Logically, there is still time; there are yet options.

She shifts aside so as not to block the clergy. "I believe it is a case of Devil's Chills, now for a week? past." The timing is her best guess, and uncertain. "Do not rely upon my diagnosis, however." She could be wrong, and she is not willing to take that risk.

With Telamon holding her wife's hand, she occupies herself with finger-combing or tidying Aura's hair; for her own sanity as much as presentability.

Still breathing heavily, Dolan nods and turns to follow the priest inside, making a point to stay clear of the swishing robes even as the rain continues to patter down. "Let's get out of the rain. It's no good for anyone." He turns to let the priest lead the way inside, while still encouraging the others to move with alacrity. "That sounds right. She was struck by an ice devil."

Telamon just shakes his head. "She must've just thought it was nerves or worries brought on by the encounter." He offers Verna a smile. "You know how Aura is." As the little procession enters the temple, he looks over at Cor'lana. "Remind me never to act like 'nothing's wrong' when I feel a little under the weather."

Cor'lana follows the group with continued speed, the expression on her face sober, but not cracking into despair. She remains close with her packed basket, a fresh set of Auranar's clothes inside. She looks at Telamon as he comments, and she says, "She had her reasons," in a voice that suggests she might understand a little why.

The priest leads the group into the temple and back a ways to a room where he can examine Auranar a bit more closely. He lets everyone talk amongst themselves as he peels back her eyelids and lifts her wrist and drops it. Picks it back up and holds it a long moment as if listening to voices only he can hear. Another prayer is begun, and again he doesn't waste time explaining what he's doing to the group of those who wait anxiously to see what the results will be. If a miraculous recovery is expected from this prayer however, none is to be had.

Now that they are resting for a few moments, Dolan leans against the wall, chest still rising and falling as he breathes deeply, arms left to dangle as he awaits the result of the work.

Telamon watches with baited breath, but then he realizes it might be a -bit- longer for Auranar to recover. Gently, he places her hand back under the blankets, before beckoning to Lana. Putting his arms around her, and hugging her quietly, tucking her in under his chin. He looks over at Dolan, and offers a small smile. "How's the shoulder?"

"She may have wished to avoid my tendencies towards excessive protection," Verna offers quietly in the direction of the other Lupecyll-Atlons. She could be considered to do so now as she 'hovers' while attempting to avoid serving as an obstacle to the Mourner. Neither does she offer any of her own evaluations, diagnoses, nor suggestions and simply allows the man to work. As is best for Aura. The avoidance of such also allows her to offer. "Thank you. All of you."

Cor'lana comes to Telamon and hugs him closely. But it's underneath his chin that... she turns to prayer. While not really devout like her friends are and not as devoted to Ceinara as her husband is devoted to Eluna... It's a thing she's turning to now, in a Temple, albeit to a different goddess altogether than her own. "Lady Vaire," she murmurs, "I beseech you, O Lady, grant my sister the luck she needs to come out of this. A miracle if that's what's needed. I'd... do a lot of things to save her if I could."

And she nuzzles closer into Telamon. For the comfort.

"I'm fine, Tel," Dolan replies, opening his flesh-and-blood eye and turning his face toward the pair of them. "She's light enough. I'm glad you came along when you did, though. What were you coming to talk to her about?" He straightens up from the wall and turns himself more fully to face the pair, his gaze still that of the sharp inquisitor.

The priest turns from Auranar and looks at the group of you. Not knowing you at all he looks at Verna, Cor'lana leaning against Telamon, and then finally Dolan. He decides to address Dolan. "She is out of the woods now, I can send for another priest to restore her strength, or we can let her body repair itself naturally over the course of the next few weeks or so. The disease was spread pretty well through her whole body, so she might have some after-effects. Chills and body aches, but that's normal." He offers a smile. "The important thing is that you got her to me just in time."

Telamon listens to the priest's diagnosis, nodding, before replying to Dolan. "Well, Lana had mentioned you were here, and I don't really -need- a reason to check on a relative who's feeling under the weather." He looks wry. "Then I ran into Verna while I was spreading a little mischief and coin, and decided it'd be appropriate to come back with her." His expression softens, looking at Aura. "I'm glad I did."

Now come words that pull Verna's attention from Auranar and to her healer. "My deepest gratitude, Mourner. I believe that she should rest for now, regardless. When she wakes, she can make her wishes for treatment known." As much as Verna highly doubts that Auranar would ever wish to be bedridden for weeks (which might require restraints), she does not immediately presume nor preclude her wife's choice in the matter.

There's a moment as Telamon holds her where Cor'lana is still. Very, very still. And then the words from the priest come out, and Cor'lana just... whimpers. Squeezing Telamon hard. And she sniffles, and she burrows herself into Telamon's neck, having a small cry.

A moment later, she lifts her face up and wipes away the string of tears that fall down her face. "The Lady," she says, smiling, although her lip wobbles a little. "She... She heard me. She heard me! My sister is safe, and Vaire heard me!" The tears are thoroughly of joy as she burrows herself back into Telamon, all of the composure she'd had up to this moment breaking down into relief... and joy.

"Way too close for my liking." Dolan breaks off from Telamon for a moment to speak to the priest. "Thank you, Mourner. How can I repay you?" He looks back at the others, then, even as he listens for the answer. "No, I guess you don't," he offers lamely, watching Lana cry on Telamon's shoulder. "I'm glad she'll be okay. Verna's her wife, though, so I'll leave that decision to her."

He leans carefully back against the wall again, face still turned towards the others.

"Any- Oh!" The priest looks embarrassed as Dolan explains that Verna is Auranar's wife. He bows to the pair. "My apologies. I'll leave the room to you then." He looks at Verna as if silently communicating with her and then leaves. Auranar remains inert on the table, though it's notable that her breathing is much less labored.

"Don't worry about it, Dolan." Telamon looks at the man with a smile, even as Lana cries out in joy. Giving his wife another hug and letting her nestle in, he continues, "Between Verna, and myself, well... I'm sure we'll be able to compensate the temple for their work here." He seems content to let Verna make the call on whether to awaken Auranar again -- as Dolan said, her wife. As the priest leaves, Tel says in a deceptively innocent tone, "Tell me, have any of you heard the old ditty, 'The Not-So-Brave Knight'?"

Finally, Telamon's clothes are spared the continued rain that leaks from Cor'lana's eyes as she pulls herself away from Telamon, although she remains close to him at his side. She dries her eyes some more. "I'll write a hundred poems and sell them all if I have to for the costs," Cor'lana manages, once she's collected herself.

Then she looks to Dolan. "Sorry--Dolan, I've just never experienced... someone listening to prayer before. Is that what it feels like when the Knight listens to you?" Presumably she means Daeus and not the story that Telamon speaks of, which gets a little eye-roll in his direction.

"Don't think I know that one, but it sounds like a drinking song or something." Some of Dolan's good humor returns at the lighter topic, although it isn't quite enough to wash all the worries away. Still, there is real relief there. "Why did this come to you now?"

Cor'lana's question earns her a more pensive look, one that on the scarred features is still a little scary, but with no malice in it. "I - um. It manifests differently every time it happens, so. I guess it's got to do with what you're doing. It's super rare, though. I don't usually hear anything at all, and the prayers I use are more rote than anything. I - I don't really know what happened down there."

Verna's fastidious fiddling with Auranar's hair begins again, though it is brief: more for tidiness and affection than distracting her own thoughts or venting energy. She then rises and moves to join the others. "Thank you, Cor'lana, but that will not be necessary. Not to imply that your poems are unwanted. What of this knight, Telamon?"

At the more serious subject of faith, Telamon smoothly sets aside his humor. "I think it's different for everyone. When I started... my veneration of Ni'essa, I figured I would need to spend some time developing the relationship." His eyes glint. "I mean, that's how diplomacy works, right? But the times I've asked her wholeheartedly for help... and Tanith came, well... I know she listens." He shrugs. "Does that make any sense?"

"To answer the question, though, yes. And since a certain person persists in annoying my wife," Telamon's eyes glint. "I've decided I can be a petty pain in the ass too. So now there's about a dozen aspiring bards and minstrels wandering around Alexandria, playing 'The Not-So-Brave Knight'. With a small change to the lyrics." He shows his teeth. "I do hope he enjoys the refrain. 'Brave sir Zalgiman, he bravely ran away...'."

Cor'lana smiles warmly at Dolan. "Well, your god supports you," she says. "You do His work, and you draw your power from Him, so... It makes sense to me that you'd have his favor. Even if it manifests in odd circumstances--and honestly, _especially_ in odd circumstances. If anyone deserves that, Dolan, I think it'd be you."

... And then she turns her head to Telamon. Slowly. Very slowly. She stares at him.

"You paid a dozen bards to sing a song to piss off Zalgiman?" she asks. Her eye actually twitches. "What if he comes to our house tomorrow demanding a _duel_ for my hand?"

And then she remembers something. "Dolan actually offered to help earlier with that. Something about a sword through the chest?" There's a look on her face that suggests she might like that a _little_ too much.

"You think?" Dolan's sharp and serious mien melts away, and for a moment, the bashful farm boy is left behind, scratching at his hairline. "Auranar said the same thing. I just try to do what I can."

The glimpse of the farmboy, though, melts away as Cor'lana brings up Zalgiman again. "Don't like the idea," he explains, wearing a serious frown, "but he doesn't strike me as the type to care about honor or what anyone else wants. He's the kind who if he can take it, it's his and better nobody tell him otherwise.”

The revelation of Telamon's tale, or rather than of the 'Brave Sir Zalgiman,' causes Verna's lips to curl a bit. A moment of humor, and levity, but it is brief before her countenance flattens once more. "I gladly offer my aid in that matter, as well, Cor'lana. You would also then learn more of what I sense when The Harpist responds to my prayers." Another thought, perhaps related, strikes, shifting her expression to frown of both displeasure and thought. A glance is made to the resting Auranar before she looks back, though she does not immediately comment further.

The look Telamon gives back to Lana is firm. "Gosh, that -would- be inconvenient. Demanding a duel for your hand. The city guard would probably have a good shout at me for turning him into a grease smear across the street." He sighs. "Look... Lana, I know this is incredibly discomfiting for you. But one, it's incredibly offensive on a social level, and two, it's a violation of the laws and mores set by the temples regarding marriages. I -can't- simply ignore it."

"Trust me, I don't _enjoy_ him challenging our marriage so publicly," Cor'lana says with a sigh. "I just... I don't want to provoke him into doing something that would see me sobbing over you, Tel." Her violet eyes look dark and heavy as she admits it. "I don't. I really... I really don't."

She shakes her head and looks away. "Sorry. I just--for all of my skill with words as a poet, sometimes I lack the words to convey how _I_ feel. And right now? I just want Zalgiman to go away. And I want my sister to get some rest."

A more serious discussion calls for a more serious mien, and the the sharply focused, stern stare of the Redeemer re-settles onto Dolan's features. He keeps an ear out for any sign of awakening from Auranar, but his focus remains on the others. "He's right, Lana. If someone was after Andie that way, I'd string them up by their entrails and use their balls as a counterweight." Deadly serious, that. "If you need me, Tel, just call. I've got some things at the Temple, so I'm there a lot of the time right now." He does not explain further. "I should get back, now that she's all right. Andie's probably off by now."

-End