A Man Of Many Talents

Lupecyll-Atlon home, early evening

Another sunny day as eased into a warm evening, with a fresh breeze bearing promises of Autumn. The city quiets as the day crowds and activities change, bringing out the night life. Theatre-goers mingle with those heading for official functions, and others for taverns and pubs.

Along one of the quieter residential streets can be heard the patter of bare feet, and the panting of one small Goblin running as fast as her feet can carry her.

Running up a familiar walk, Simony reaches for the bell pull, tugging a couple of times in quick succession. She hops up and down, fussing with her wide-rimmed hat.

Indeed, summer is finally departing for autumn's grace. The air feels cooler, less oppressive, the first promise of the colder months. But for now it is pleasant enough.

The little neighborhood in the University District is no stranger to oddities. There are a few magi here, and two of them reside in a two story house settled and then rebuilt. A couple of children watch Simony sprint past, looking confused -- after all, at first glance she could be mistaken for one, until one gets a better look!

But soon enough, the bell is rung. There's footsteps at the door, and it opens a few inches, before Telamon opens it wide. "Simony! Good to see you again!" His expression is open and welcoming, though his eyes flick back and forth -- watchful, as always. "Won't you come in? I'm afraid Lana and Pothy have been hijacked by her aunt -- they're doing some shopping at a night market this evening." He smiles wryly. "I'm not sure who is more dangerous. Liandra Branfeax is a -very- formidable lady."

The Goblin steps inside, and after a moment, hugs at Telamon. "Thank you thank you thank you...", she repeats over and over for a few minutes, before going silent. She peers up at him, and pulls her hat from her head.

A copious amount of white hair cascades down her back, hanging down to her ankles. "It works! And oh... tonight is a fine night to be out, though it's a bit cool. Simony shivers slightly, being unprepared for the cooler night air, wearing a green summer dress.

Telamon shuts the door before getting hugged. Then there's the barrage of thanks. And then Simony takes her hat off and... "Wow," Tel says, eyes wide. "Okay, -that- I didn't expect. Good gods, don't use any more, or you'll have hair from here to the docks!" But he laughs as he says it, and guides Simony into the living room.

"Can I offer you anything? Tea, snacks? I can help you tie it up in a horsetail but I'm not sure I've got the skills to braid it properly." Telamon looks thoughtful. "If you want to keep it this long, I can also suggest a few things, based on what Lana uses. She's got this hair cream that helps keep hers, well, flowing like a wave of night."

The Goblin laughs. "Oh. Was I not supposed to use all of it? Oops. Well. It works!" She is easily guided, and settles into one of the cozier chairs. "I would like some tea, please and thank you. I'm not all that hungry." Her stomach begs to differ, with a noticeable gurgle. "Pfff, always making a liar out of me, my stomach."

Simony gathers up her hair, wrapping a hand around it, and attempting to see how a horse-tail would look. "A weaver of spells, broker of diplomacy, and founder of towns... defeated by an inability to braid hair." Her grin is broad and mischievous. "Erm, a simple horsetail is pleasing and easier to manage. If uhm you don't mind? And nono, I want my hair as natural as possible. Never cutting it all off ever again."

Telamon grins. "Here, let me get some things..." He heads into the kitchen, and clatters in the pantry a bit, before returning with a platter of small foods: cookies and small pastries, as well as a small bowl of nuts. Behind him, a pitcher and two mugs floats along on its own, and comes to rest on the coffee table along with the snack platter.

"I understand. I'm glad it didn't grow to truly ridiculous lengths." Tel snorts. "Look, there is an -art- to braiding hair -- ask Lana -- and it's simply not something I've explored. Lately I've been spending more time with one of the Bardic College masters, learning about music."

One of the cookies is quickly inhaled, the Goblin's eyes wide at the treats available. A second cookie is nibbled more reservedly. "Mhhmm. Thank you, these are delicious." Simony snorts and shakes her head, "I suppose it can be art, but surely there's a basic level of braiding that works without being extravagant. I suppose I could ask Cor'lana."

"Are you considering taking up a musical instrument, or putting your sonorous voice to work in song?"

"I'd just hate to do something, well, unpleasant to your hair. I mean, you just got it back and it looks -good-, Simony." Telamon smiles at her. "Well, we'll work on something. I think I remember how mother would take her hair up, and it'd at least keep it off the ground till you could get to a hairdresser."

He chuckles at Simony's effusive praise for the snacks. "They're from the Cheerful Corvid. It's a little bakery and coffeeshop that Lana's cousin, Addy, runs. Very cozy, and does good business with the students at the University -- for obvious reasons." At the question, he hms. "Instrument. Lana is taking up song, so I figured I should accompany, rather than joust with her." His eyes twinkle. "And I went and found Master Mayhew -- we'd met at an astronomy symposium a year back, and he's also a -highly- accomplished musician and bard."

"Yeah, but, that stuff you made can grow it back." Her cheeks flush lightly, "Well, I've you to thank for it, so give yourself a pat on the back. I am interested to see what your mother used to do with her hair. If it's easy to do, then I'll just do that."

"The Cheerful Corvid. Hah, is she into the fey bullsh... er... fey things like Cor'lana? Or is it corvid because of the family crest?"

Simony smiles brightly, "Oh, that's adorable, you're going to play duets? That's beautiful. But... which instrument? Lute? Flute? The Hurdy-gurdy?"

Telamon nods. "Let me work my brains a bit on that, it's been a while." He picks up a pastry, biting into it and chewing. Swallowing, he shakes his head. "No, it's the family. Lana's mother, Nadina, would've been Addy's aunt, and Pothy had been passed down through the family. So ravens and corvids are heavily featured in the Branfeax family's iconography." He smiles at the memory. "Gods. We ran across that place and Lana was absolutely floored to learn she had family. She and Addy talked for a while, and they still speak regularly. It's good for her."

At the question of the instrument, Tel nods. "Lute, actually. Master Mayhew is an accomplished lute-player. He actually built his own, which he still carries to this day. Calls it the Crimson Special." He looks at Simony curiously. "You might've seen him -- tall, older gentleman, curly hair gone silver?"

The Goblin reaches for one of the pastries too. "I love pastries, luckily I don't eat them regularly, else I would be a fat little Gobbo." She nods at Telamon's mention of it being good for Cor'lana. "Yeah, having some family to confide in, especially when it seems that some of her family, or yours, is hell bent to do you some ill... it's nice to find someone related you can connect with and just... shoot the breeze, as they say."

Simony crunches into the pastry, licking the crumbs from her lips. "Mmmhph. I am going to go meet her cousin, and see what other tasty treats she has for sale."

Rubbing at her chin, she smiles. "The lute is an excellent musical instrument. You can get some truly beautiful, yet haunting, music from it. It can tug easily at the heartstrings and soul." Her head cants slightly. "Master Mayhew? Is he a regular at the Observatory? Or the Chalice? Or perhaps the University? The name is familiar, though, I can't put a face to the name."

Telamon laughs softly. "Well, that and you're an adventurer. I've noticed there are -very- few portly adventurers. I expect it might have to do with needing to run very fast sometimes." His eyes glitter at the mention of people meaning ill. "Yes, well... those sort of people will be dealt with in time." There's an ominous tone to his voice, that 'dealt with' will probably be very permanent.

The moment passes, and Telamon's face relaxes again. "Well, she's always happy to see new friends and customers. Tell her Lana and Tel sent you -- or maybe we can go down there with you. I'm sure she'll be happy to let you try a sample before buying."

His eyebrows rise up at Simony's question about Master Mayhew, but then he shakes his head. "Bardic College and the Observatory. He simply hasn't got any interest in the Chalice, and that's fair enough. He's kind of craggy-faced, with hair down to his shoulders. Used to be dark, but it's gone silver now. He's still an amazing musician."

Simony grins mischievously. "I am going to walk in there and simply yell "SNACKS!" like Pothy, and see what Addy does." If she just looks at me oddly, I'll then say that you and Cor'lana bid her hello, and introduce myself. Though I'd be quite happy to tag along with you and Lana, should you head that way."

She reaches out to pat his hand, before leaning back to take a sip of her tea. "I should hope to never have you cross with me, Telamon. I feel that it would be scary to see you angry."

"Oooh, okay, I think I know who you mean. He enjoys playing in the Gardens sometimes, and there's always loads of people there to watch. And craggy faced is an understatement, I could fall into and disappear into some of his wrinkles."

Telamon sighs. "Sorry if I scared you there. I am... well, let's just say that as my power has grown, I have striven to master it. Control it. Not lash out casually or at a whim. But there are some in the world, well... my heart tells me 'Smite them from the surface of Ea, no matter the cost.' And the hardest part sometimes is -not- doing that."

At Simony's sally, though, Tel's expression lightens. "Well, she'll definitely realize you know us. But I do think Lana and I should come along just for the fun of it. We might run into Algar there too -- he's my cousin, and he's been courting Addy." He lays a finger along side his nose, eyes glinting merrily. "I do matchmake sometimes."

"Ah, now you remember. Yes, for a fellow over three and a half-score years -- and he's human -- he is still spry, deft, and amazingly skilled. The competition just to receive bardic instruction from the man is ferocious -- I'm only getting some pointers because of the lectures I've been giving at the University. If Vaire does not know his name then someone had better tell her posthaste."

"No need to apologize. And that is the consequence of power, knowing when it should and should not be used. It makes you a decent person that you fight that impulse, and strive not to let things get out of hand. But, I get the feeling that if such a thing is justified, you would not hesitate to smite them from the face of Ea. Which is also good, don't hesitate when a thing must be done."

Nodding, the Gobbo stretches. "I thought it might, and perhaps... just maybe, she would get a smile out of it: an albino priestess of Navos yelling snacks! So many coincidences."

Simony grins, "He looks good for an old man, I hope to look half as good as I get into my sunset years. Hah, I suspect she knows, or would guess quickly." She suddenly leans forward. "Oh, a matchmaker you say? Whom have you helped meet so far?"

"Some things aren't coincidences," Telamon points out with a grin. "As you say, albino, Navos, snacks... why, it might even be a sign, or an omen. Or just a new customer with money to spend and a hunger for blueberry scones."

He nods at Simony's comment on Master Mayhew. "He's definitely in good shape. But he once told me he was glad to have made it this far, to see so much. Maybe he's slower, and can't take the field any more, but passing on his knowledge is just as respectable and noble a task as being in the thick of it."

Tel smirks at the inquiry about matchmaking. "Well, my childhood friends for one. Algar's another. I admit it's not something I do a -lot- because... well, that sort of thing is intensely personal and I hate intruding. But I'd like to think I'm at least good at it."

"I shudder to think why I should be an omen, for ill or for good." Simony snorts and lets out a sigh. "But it is an interesting coincidence, given some of the things I have heard about, and personally seen. But I definitely have the money and hunger to spend on blueberry scones. Does she sell them with cream?"

"As for Master Mayhew, perhaps he cannot take the field, but you are right, passing on his knowledge to others is very respectable, and why should he not profit from his skills and knowledge in his waning years?"

The Gobbo giggles lightly. "I just want to hear the stories, how they slowly fell in love after a fateful nudge from you." She lets out a little sigh. "It is so cute to see people fall in love."

Telamon hmms. "I think she does sell them with cream. You know... I think I remember how this works now." He stands up, and gestures for Simony to turn in the chair a bit. "It's the reminiscing about my past," he explains. "Watching mother gather her hair -- she used to wear it longer."

As Simony gets situated, he hmms. "Well, when I was growing up, I... didn't have the problems some children have, when they come from human and sil parents. My family cleaves to the way of the wild rose -- that all family is precious, regardless of blood or bond." His starry eyes grow distant. "It was me, Raffy, Kordo, Algar, and Maria. Raffy and I were half-elven, Algar was full sil, of sylvanori blood, and Kordo and Maria were human. But we were all friends."

The Goblin grins, taking up another pastry, and turns around. She pulls her feet up and sits cross-legged. "Ah, my mother used to be so proud of my hair, a shock of white among the browns, blacks and even reds. She'd have me brushing it for hours and hours. Haven't needed to brush for a while now...'

Simony nods gently, "I imagine that it is difficult for Half-Sil, because you have the pain of both Humans and Sil, and it takes a long time to be able to appreciate the upsides to being a little of both. I am glad that your childhood was gentler, and you have almost as many siblings as I do."

Telamon's unseen servant brings a comb, and he begins to carefully comb Simony's hair out. "It could have been harder. It's one of the few things that deeply angers me -- when those who are family, who should be your closest, not only fail but deliberately drive you away. I swore, when I married Lana, I would make sure she would never want for a family -- both the Atlons of today, and whatever lies in the future, she would be cherished and loved."

He takes a deep breath. "Anyways. Father was, is, a diplomat and emissary. And while I had developed... some feelings for Maria, she would never have been happy on the road. Father wanted me to come along, to learn the family business." He begins gathering Simony's hair, hmmming thoughtfully. "So I nudged Kordo in her direction -- he was far more of a homebody, and his father wasn't taking him on an extended educational road trip."

Simony shivers slightly as the comb moves through her hair. "That sends little shivers down my spine. It feels pretty nice." She sits still, moving just enough to bring the pastry to her mouth and chew. "A good vow to have."

The Gobbo goes silent, and she sighs heavily. "That's noble of you, Telamon. I know you've found happiness, and my wish is that Kordo and Marie are similarly happy. But I am also a little sad for you. A path not travelled, one you wanted to follow, but circumstances forced you onto a different path."

"Ah, but Simony, if I hadn't, I would've never met Lana. And Maria and Kordo are happy as well, so..." Telamon shrugs. "One can mull over the roads not taken all day, but honestly? I wouldn't change any of it." He starts to carefully work on tying Simony's hair back before doubling it up. "I remember reading somewhere that while our past shouldn't define us, it's always with us, and it shouldn't be ignored."

He chuckles. "Don't feel sad. After all, then it led to an entirely -different- adventure, so to speak: being pursued by an amorous daughter of an oruch clan-chief. Good -gods- that was a fiasco..."

"I suppose you are right, Telamon. But there is some fun to be had in wondering what might have been had you gone a different path than the one you took. I mean, I'd be married to some brute of a Goblin, with like, twelve children by now had I not decided to leave. I think I prefer what I have now, but, he was the chieftain of another Goblin tribe."

Simony shivers again, a hand reaching up to feel what Telamon is doing with her hair. "I am enjoying your adventures, though. The ones that I get caught up in. Oh! That reminds me. Jinaru, Slixvah's memaw, is very grateful for the antiplague that you made for their medical ward. The number of Egalrin laid up with the disease has decreased greatly. There may be a squishy hug in your future. Fair warning. And for that, Tel, I say well done, and thank you."

Telamon hms. "Well, sometimes you have to find your own happiness, as well." He looks thoughtful. "Once my apprenticeship with father was done, I came to Alexandria. Hard to go wrong here with learning both diplomacy and magic. And so one thing led to another, and here I am now." He laughs softly. "With a lot of strange side trips along the way." He carefully piles Simony's hair up in an elaborate bun, taking up much of the slack. "Alright, I think I've got it, and you should be able to loose it if you need to without any problems. But I really think you should consult a hairdresser."

He picks up a large, polished mirror (left by the unseen servant) from the table, and offers it to Simony. "She said as much. I also offered to talk to Slixvah -- the work to help the egalrin there has been dreadfully fatiguing and stressful for her. But striving to heal the woes of others is never wasted, and I was happy to help."

"Yes, and now you can work magic with both your eyes and hands." Her eyebrows waggle, and she laughs. "I think you have done well, both the path you have taken in life, and doing up my hair." Simony gasps as the mirror is held up, and she gently holds the mirror, moving it around. "This is awesome, Telamon. I need to watch you do it the next time, so that I can fix it up. Thank you so much for giving me my hair back." A little hand reaches up, and pats at the bun, giggling lightly. "I really love it."

A little sigh is breathed out, and the Gobbo watches the bun bob as she nods her head. "The whole thing has taken a pretty big toll on her, for certain. We should see if we can't get her to take a little break. Rest for a while, just relax, take it easy, and not work on anything. To trust us to help things move along smoothly. She's done so much, she deserves a break."

Telamon grins. "Well, thank you. I admit I am a rank amateur at this, but I am glad to have helped. I like it when my friends are happy." He refills their mugs of tea. "It's important, though, to remember the... hm. Minor things in life. Friendship, food, hair, that sort of thing. It helps keep spirits up."

His lips turn down slightly in a frown. "Her mother said as much. Hence why I offered to talk to her. If she needs to rest, then she needs to rest -- we'll arrange for others to help pick up the load as needed. I won't have them run her like a rented mule till she drops."

The Goblin growls.

"I don't like how she's treated with disdain, ignored, and that they're even reluctant to come to her for help. It's slowly changing, but, well... I did not like it, and I was tempted to growl and bite. But... they were all in a bad way... So I bit my tongue instead."

"So then, Telamon. What can I do for you, to put another smile on your face?"

"I can't decide what irks me more; the way they treated her before, or how they came begging for cures after." Telamon takes a deep breath. "We can't beat it out of them, so we have to set the example and make it stick. And be there for our friend so she knows she doesn't need to face it alone."

"How did you become a priest of the Historian, anyways? I admit to some curiosity here -- most gobbers I've met were devotees of Reos the Maker or the Great Serpent, that men call Rada."

Simony gently sets the mirror down, so that she can smack her fist into her palm. "Oh, I think you don't know if you can do a thing until you try. We've not tried to beat it out of them, therefore, we cannot say we can't do it. Shall we try?" The Gobbo grins beatifically. And sighs after a moment. "I guess we should follow your plan. I think she'd be happier that way, even if there are people she thinks deserves a bit of an ass whooping."

Her grin returns. "Oh, well, you see, it started with me always getting the books and anything remotely intellectual in nature when my tribe returned from a raid.. I was only able to bring a few books when I fled my home. Along the way, I learned what a library was, and that Navosian temples and monasteries have the best libraries. They had a hard time keeping me away... then one day a monk approached me."