Much Ado About Misha

Log Info

• Title: Much Ado About Misha

• Emitter: Dolan

• Characters: Dolan, Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Temple of Daeus

Probably the best thing about the Temple of Daeus in springtime is that it is dry, no matter the weather, thanks to the magic that protects the place. Although the skies are grey overhead, no rain falls, and a light, warm breeze brushes the grass of the courtyard.

Among all of the people going to and fro on various errands, or standing and sitting in various places and attitudes of prayer, reflection, or industriousness, one pair stands out, for the clash of heavy wooden practice blades and cheers erupting from that section of the lawn. Several Sunblades and other similarly-martial folk stand and watch as Dolan, stripped to shirt, trousers, boots, and the leather cuff he is seldom without, crosses swords with an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and not an ounce of fat on him. The Corona is not alone in being drenched in sweat, and the cloth of the shirt he wears clings to him front and back.

After one final clash, the older gentleman signals a halt, and Dolan gratefully lowers the blunted practice greatsword, to general applause. "Well enough," the older man tells the panting Corona. "That sequence still is not quite right. Use the broader angle for the defense, and it will defend both side and overhand. You do not defend the side."

"If I hold it that way, I've got no strength in it," Dolan answers.

"Work on that, then, as much as you can. Slowly. It will come."

"Yeah. I s'pose." He doesn't sound so sure of that, but relinquishes the blade and steps back to allow one of the other Sunblades to take his place, rubbing at the cuffed shoulder.

The older man spots that with keen eyes, and frowns. "I see," he says suddenly, the bushy brows creasing. "I have overextended you. Sheina will box my ears," he mutters. "Enough of that. Your lesson is done, you are dismissed." A half a smile holds apology, and he gestures that Dolan should leave the circle entirely. "We are nearly done here anyway. Go and soak."

With a long, exhaled breath, Dolan obediently steps out of the circle and turns away, still rubbing at the cuff over his shoulder.

Arm-in-arm, the Lúpecyll-Atlon couple stride into the Temple of Daeus--as they tend to go arm-in-arm anywhere they go together--and make their way into the courtyard. It's Cor'lana's violet eyes that flash with recognition as she spots both Dolan and the older gentleman. "That's Brydion and a superior in the Temple of Daeus, Master Zein," Cor'lana murmurs to Telamon. A frown comes to her mouth as she listens to the exchange that follows, her eyes observing the greatsword and the way that Dolan rubs at his shoulder.

"It's one of those days," she murmurs. "But--we still need to talk to him."

While Telamon does like to cut a path wherever he goes, for now he's dressed a little more conservatively. A cream-colored tunic over his favorite brown-wool trousers, tucked into his boots. But it can't hide the starlight in his dark eyes, the confidence in his step as he walks arm in arm with his wife. "I think I've heard of Master Zein, but never met him." He furrows his brow, noting Dolan rubbing his shoulder. "Maybe I should've brought some liniment rub."

Interestingly, in his other hand is a staff wrought of ironwood with a steel cap on the bottom and a polished bronze head at the top, the latter comprised of three concentric, intersecting circles. Looks very wizard-y.

The troubled look Dolan wears as he makes his way away from the group and, coincidentally, toward the pair, is impossible to miss, but when he spots the pair, he straightens and focuses on them both, turning his head just slightly to look between them "Tel. Lana. Brightest of days, what brings you here?" There is no trace of smile at seeing them, only lifted eyebrows and an abrupt focus. Those two don't come here for no reason.

"Vaire's verse in your heart, Brydion. We got your letter," Cor'lana says. There's a look in her eyes that very much suggests that she wishes this was a more casual visit. "And we've learned of what happened in full at the Defense beyond your letter. I think we need to have a talk in private."

"Indeed. Her light on your path, Dolan. But we do need to talk about a number of things." Telamon makes a face. "That's how it always seems like, isn't it? One of these days I'd like to drop by, invite you to the house, do some cooking, talk about gossip." He squares his shoulders. "One day. It'll come. In the meantime, yes. Business." He absently taps the butt of the staff on the ground.

"Yeah." The focus Dolan wears sharpens still further, and he nods towards the interior of the Temple, turning in that direction. "I'm s'posed to go soak, but that can wait. We'll use one of the antechambers."

In the end, it isn't far. Just inside the door is another door with a table and few chairs, intended for this sort of purpose, and he reaches for one of the chairs, turning it around to straddle it and sit backwards in it.

Cor'lana takes a seat, looking at Dolan for a moment. "I'm sorry about the shoulder today," she says first. "I promise we won't keep you overlong from the soak. Harkashan told us of a man that Marsward was abusing at the Soldier's Defense. N'thain. Given the status of the man according to Harkashan's testimony--I thought the worst thing that I could do was to show up as a stranger and demand answers of someone who's gone through Marsward's torment. Given that you're much more fully knowledgeable about the situation--I was hoping you could tell Telamon and I more about the situation, as I refuse to badger someone recovering from their immediate torment for answers."

Telamon sits next to Cor'lana, his expression grave -- but a touch of hope in his eyes. "While my first instinct was to sprint off to find the man, and see what Seraquoix sought from him, Lana suggested it might be a better idea to speak to you first. Gods only know what that filth Marsward has put him through." He looks quietly thoughtful. "But for Seraquoix to come openly to the Defense, and try to take possession of him, suggests the man must be of some importance -- at least to his schemes."

"Oh, that. I'd meant to come by today and ask you." Dolan's full focus is on the pair, and he sits up straight, rather than leaning arms on the back of the chair, shaking a sweaty lock of hair out of his face. "Andie and I sat down with N'thain once I was cleared," he explains. "He's a hostage. He's the lover of a man named Micha, and he asked us to help find him and get him out of there before Micha does something Marsward makes him do to keep N'thain safe. Have you ever heard of this Micha?"

"Micha?"

The name falls from Cor'lana's lips with a widening of the eyes, followed by the opening of Cor'lana's mouth. She turns to look at Telamon and stares at him for a moment, before looking at Dolan. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect that to be..."

She sighs and runs a hand through a clump of her wavy hair. "Micha is the man that I've inferred to be Zalgiman's 'replacement' for the brewery operation that the group was running as their recruitment arm. Recruit lost men and women to work at a brewery, like how Zalgiman was lost...And bring them into a cult. Marsward's cult."

She sighs and looks at Telamon. "Telamon has met the man. Care to tell the story, my love?"

Telamon actually looks startled. "Wait, what?" He clearly did not expect this. Then his eyes narrow. "Well. Well, well, well, isn't this interesting?"

He sits back in his seat. "I encountered Micha in the company of Seraquoix at a soiree thrown by Lady Carrough not too long ago. The two weren't exactly comfortable together -- this explains a lot. He said he had seen me in a vision, and I'm been attempting to schedule a meeting to ascertain the details -- though the revelations about Seraquoix causing trouble in the Defense make me wonder if I can pull it off. Still..."

He taps his fingertips together. "We have an opportunity here. We keep N'thain safe and alive, convince Micha that he doesn't have to dance to Seraquoix's tune..." He shows his teeth in an expression that is assuredly not a smile. "Two souls, plus gods know how many others, saved from Seraquoix's predations. I like this plan already."

"If you manage to meet Micha, tell him N'thain said you're my fire and I'll be waiting for you, and that he's safe and you know someone who can take him to N'thain. He should cooperate." A satisfied grin pulls at the mobile half of Dolan's features and twinkles in the brown eye. "That should get him out from under Seraquoix in a hurry. Now, where's this brewery you're talking about?"

"Lady Carrough said it was called the Blue Moon," Cor'lana elaborates. "Unfortunately? I have no clue where it is. Perhaps, when we meet with Micha--that will be one of the things that we find out. Zalgiman carrying a totem made it impossible to scry on him--I tried once--and..."

She finds herself pinching her nose between her fingers. "And no, he never invited me to his brewery for a drink, so I sadly did not have an address there. Gods." It's somewhere between exasperation and lament for a missed opportunity. At least she's not lost in grief.

Telamon reaches out to place his hand on Lana's. Squeezing gently. "I think I need to find this Micha fellow posthaste. Not just about his 'vision' -- assuming it wasn't some scheme concocted by Seraquoix -- but if I could speak to him about N'thain as well..." He looks at Dolan. "I assume this N'thain is under guard at the Defense? I'm tempted to suggest we move him, but..."

"We'd better have a damned good place to move him to, if we do it," Dolan counters immediately, allowing his comment to indirectly answer Telamon's question in the affirmative. His gaze goes to Lana, though. "Lana, the best thing you can do for Zalgiman now is stop Marsward and rescue Micha, yeah?" He offers this gently and openly, eyebrows lifted. "Andie and I need to go rescue Seb and track down that cult, but we've got promises to N'thain, too. We'll try to be quick, but it's Selentia. Can you find out where the Blue Moon is?"

"Precisely why I've wanted Marsward's head on a pike," Cor'lana answers in a way that's dark and almost frightening coming from Dolan's close friend. "We put down Marsward, and Zalgiman's at peace. We reunite N'thain and Micha--and we right one of many wrongs that Marsward has committed."

She squeezes Telamon's hand. "I can find out, one way or another," she says. "Telamon's good at talking to people. I'm good at... convincing people, one way or another, to give me what I want or need to know. I hope your rescue goes well--will you be requiring Telamon for that?"

There's a small smirk on her face as she looks at Telamon, like she expected him to already be requested for that.

Telamon seems unfazed by Cor'lana's bloodthirsty intent. Or perhaps he shares her sentiments. "Precisely." He offers Dolan a grin. "I've often said I can talk my way into and out of trouble pretty easily. Looks like I get to put that to use once again." His brow furrows. "I might bring Lady Carrough into this, but I'm not sure. She's... flighty. And she's not experienced at how these things can go off the path. I'd rather not put her at risk, even if she's been negotiating with the man."

At the mention of Selentia, Tel nods to Dolan. "You need transport, you only have to ask, Dolan. How many will you need to bring?"

Startled, Dolan straightens, unconsciously reaching for the back of his shoulder again, rubbing at the muscles along his neck with gentle fingers. "It'd be just me and Andie, and you if you go. We could honestly use your help, if you feel like helping us track down a cult and take Lady Calogref to task for consorting with demons? It'll be a castle-sized scandal." His wicked grin lights up both sides of his features, and there is no forgiveness in his features, either. "Who's Lady Carrough, though?"

"She's a recent arrival in the city," Cor'lana explains with a polite smile. "She's... as I like to put it, an 'escapee' from the noble courts of Llyranost. She is used to solving things by matter of diplomacy, gifts, and other means--and I have found myself mentoring her. I see some commonalities between myself and her, even if she was raised in a dramatically different way than I was."

She smirks a little at Telamon. "I'd only be an addition to that scandal," she says. "You go and I'll keep the house here anchored down--and I'll go and take care of your cats while you're gone, again, Brydion?" Standing offer.

Telamon tsks. "Every diplomat should have a little scandal attached to them. It helps deepen their mystique -- even if it's not true." He nods to Dolan with a grin, before raising Lana's hand to his lips. "Alright. Keep things buttoned down here, love. Don't let things start spinning out of control -- and I can be back here in a flash if something does fall off the horse, so to speak."

Tel gives Dolan a frank look. "This could end terminally for the Lady Calogref, you know. Does Andie understand that? I don't doubt her resolve, but family is family."

GAME: Dolan rolls will: (5)+11: 16

"Yeah, she knows." Dolan's grin fades, though, lines appearing at brows and lips that suggest that Telamon's concern is one shared. "She thinks her mother'll slither out somehow. Maybe she will. I intend to see to it that she doesn't." He scratches at a sweaty hairline. "Your point's taken, Tel, but let me handle it. I'll talk her down if it comes to that, yeah?"

He looks up, though, with a small laugh, and rests his good arm on the back of the chair. "Just Lana, take that buttoned down literally and keep your tits to yourself, yeah?" It's said affectionately.

Only Dolan can get away with a remark like that. Cor'lana laughs, and she laughs. "Considering Micha is in a relationship with another man--I do think I will be keeping them buttoned down, yes," she manages after a long moment of laughter. "Not that necessarily means he'd be totally disinterested, but--"

Okay, she has to laugh a moment longer. She shakes her head. "I have no intentions of employing that particular tactic again if I can help it," she says, finally, once the laughter's died down inside of her. "Alexandria is safe from the Temptress."

Telamon can't help but snicker as well. "Yes, please Lana, let's not go courting the Crimson Pen again. My nerves can't take it as is." He wraps his arm around her, hugging her close, before continuing. "There's one other thing I need to talk to you about, Dolan. Somewhat unrelated."

He looks at the man with interest. "You mentioned you'd dreamed some things into being, using the totem. Do you still have them? I managed something similar," he lifts the staff, "and my inspection of it has been... very confusing. I've gotten some peculiar results from my testing."

Faced with laughter, Dolan can hardly help but laugh himself as the mirth bubbles forth. He calms down quickly, though. "I'm sure Tel's glad for that. I know I am. Yeah?" His eyebrows lift again, but when Telamon is done speaking, comprehension has written itself across his features. "Yeah. Just the one, the sword, but yeah, I've still got it. It's in the apartment, though. Did you want to take a look at it? I can bring it by once I've had a bath."

"I think it'd be of curiosity to both of us," Cor'lana says. "Telamon's been studying his for quite some time and it's proven to be a veritable mystery for him and for myself."

She smiles brightly. "Perhaps you can come over and we can finally have a leisurely little event. A meal, something to drink, and plenty of time for Pothy to talk at you." There's mirth in that voice. "Goodness knows he would appreciate that much. He asks about you a lot, Brydion."

Telamon nods. "At some point, yes. I'd like to examine yours. There's some... quirks I've found with this staff. Like, powerful divinations fizzle off it, but it reacts to spells as if it were enchanted in some way." He makes a face. "I guess there are repercussions to pulling something out of the dreamlands, but I wish it was more clear."

Tel smiles at the notion of a relaxing dinner. "Gods know, we don't get enough of those. And as Lana says, Pothy does ask after you. Friends... we all need friends. Especially these days."

Dolan similarly smiles at the idea of a relaxing dinner, the mobile side of his face crinkling. "Yeah, sounds good. Want me to bring anything, besides snacks for Pothy? Pothy's a good bird." He drops both arms off of the back of the chair, then. "I can bring the sword over then, too. I'm not sure when Andie'll get out, but I need a bath and to run a few errands. We'll set up a night soon, yeah?"

"Anything you want to bring over is more than fine by me," Cor'lana says with a wide smile, rising from her chair. "All we require is merely your presence. Now, we won't keep you any longer from that soak, Brydion, and goodness knows the longer we keep you from that, the longer we keep you from seeing your fiancee later--so we'll get out of your way."

She takes Telamon's arm up again and smiles brightly at Dolan. "Vaire's verse in your heart, Brydion. Have a good day."

The Lúpecyll-Atlons depart for the next item on their agenda for the day, which could be anywhere or anything at all.