Seat of Our Noble Line (Part 7)
Log Info
- Title: Seat of Our Noble Line (Part 7)
- GM: Riptide
- Place: Ivyhold Manor
A period of rest is had. Seldan, Telamon, Verna, and Zeke have all been able to sleep and to recover their spent resources and energy, albeit with strange dreams. When all are roused in the morning, however--or the closest approximation there might be within this place--there is no Cosette, the headless maid.
Nor are there ready morning refreshments. It seems that one might have to call Cosette if morning tea is desired.
For all the strangeness of the surroundings, Telamon slept well. Still... the dreams are different. Oddly familiar. Tidying himself up and dressing takes a few minutes, as he mulls over what they've seen so far. "Hmmmm. Sir Seldan, a few moments of your time? I've been considering a few things."
Pulling out a carved ivory comb, Tel begins combing out his shaggy, tousled hair. "You spoke of a magical plague, and how it was originally used to repair a wizard's tower. Did this predate your ancestor, Rhain? I'm trying to put together a timeline here."
Despite the softness of the bed and relative comfort, Seldan is left rubbing his eyes blearily. A combination of strange dreams, one's own thoughts, and being more used to roughing it than being pampered combine for a not-wholly-restful night's sleep. Nowhere is evidence of this last plainer than in the fact that it does not occur to him that Cosette might be summonable, and he merely reaches into his pack for journey rations without thinking about it.
When Telamon asks his question, he looks up, and shakes his head. "No, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon," he answers. "Naught will Rhain know of such things. His is another mystery entire. Worry not for me, or for that." He waves a hand dismissively, and turns to the teapot. "Zeke, if you will fill the teapot, I will warm it."
Zeke rouses early, and without being asked or told, begins to quietly make tea. He has brought of course the necessities for the creation of said tea with him of course. All he requires is a fireplace - which there is of course - and a bit of flame. An easy enough thing to create with flint and steel... But Seldan offers to heat the tea and Zeke gives him a pleased and grateful look.
He quickly sets about filling the tea pot then and brings it to Seldan for the heating. "Sssa. Thisss one isss grateful kin." One should never have to go through the day without tea after all. Like the others his sleep had been filled with dreams, but if they bothered him at all he doesn't show it in any manner.
Verna awakens with a sharp intake of breath and a start; both imply a state less than rested or, at the least, perhaps not comfortably so. Admittedly, they are in a location that would certainly qualify as strange and unusual. She blinks several times, re-orienting to her surroundings as her breath slows to the inaudible norm, punctuated with a slight clearing of throat. She then looks to Seldan and Zeke. "Tea would be most welcome. Might I assist?"
Regardless of need nor aqcuiesence to aid, she rises to her feet nonetheless. Any restlessness from her dreaming seems to have continued, as she does not stand in place.
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (11)+25: 36 GAME: Verna rolls perception: (5)+29: 34 GAME: Zeke rolls Perception: (18)+8: 26 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (15)+25: 40
Telamon eyes Seldan with a rather discerning if disconcerting stare, before shrugging slightly. "Well, we still have much ground to cover here in the mansion." He watches with an approving gaze as Zeke and Verna get the kettle on, nodding. "I think I brought some lavender-mint, I find that's good for..."
He pauses, trailing off. His head tilts slightly, and he raises a hand to forestall any questions. Turning in a slow circle, before stopping and staring at the wall Cosette had passed through. Very softly, he whispers, "Does anyone else hear crying?"
GAME: Seldan casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 16 DC: 20
Seldan, who had taken the teakettle from Zeke and cast a quick and simple cantrip over it, then set it down before him with hands hovering just over it, does not appear to have seen the stare. He does, though, sit up straighter, clearly having heard it as well. "Even so." It's at that moment that he remembers Cosette, and drops his hands. "Cosette, think you, or another? It had not come to me that she might yet be about." A small, rueful smile accompanies that. "Too many years has it been. Call them forth, perhaps, for I doubt not that this place is full of ghosts."
Zeke frowns at the tea pot in his claw, well insofar as sith can frown. It felt cold. Moreso than was usual for the little tea pot, but he shrugged it off with a little roll of his right shoulder and proceeded to offer the tea pot to Seldan.
Telamon's query caused the sith not to listen more intently, but to sniff the air, in order to expand his senses. He had little doubt that there was a sound being heard, but it was beyond his hearing. "Ssssalt? Thisss one thinksss that you are right kin. Another ghossst. Bessst we ready ourssselvesss lesst it ssshow up."
He quickly pours the tea into cups and begins passing it around. Haste, not waste.
Verna hood pans and cants at the soft sounds, as it is yet too soon for the noise to come from the kettle. "Indeed, it could be one of many..." There is reason for concern, for what they have seen... and yet Seldan's mention of Cosette brings a belated thought. "If the is you, Cosette," she notes to the wall with ample conversational volume, "our boil of kettle is no disrespect of your services...
Perhaps Verna has some experience with servants. That, or perhaps it is optimism that it is the ghost one knows.
There's a sound like a great big clearing of the nose and a gulp of air before Cosette steps out of the walls and bows politely before the group. Still herself, sans head, in the exact same uniform from before the group's rest and relaxation.
"My apologies for disturbing your relaxation, m-milord and guests." There's another sniffle despite the fact she doesn't have a head to sniffle with. "May I assist you in any way this morning?"
GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (20)+32+5: 57
Sniffling might as well be an alarm bell to the kindly half-sil sorcerer. "Cosette, dear, whatever is the problem?" Telamon crosses to her, though he doesn't take her hands or touch her. That wouldn't be proper (and to be honest, Tel's a little unsure how solid she is). "If it's about us making our tea, I'm sorry. We're all seasoned campaigners and it's not like any of us have servants. We're just so used to doing things ourselves."
Telamon is careful to keep his eyes on where Cosette's head would (approximately) be, despite the fact there's nothing there. "Hush now, there's no need for tears. Are you worried you won't have employment once Master Seldan is properly invested here? I assure you, he isn't that sort of fellow. I'm sure things will change, of course, but it will be for the better."
An odd sniffle comes from Cosette when Telamon says the words 'Master Seldan'.
Seldan is not the everybody charmer that Telamon is, but he regards her with his same even, steady gaze that he turns on anyone, watching her for a long moment. "Speak your mind, Cosette," he offers quietly. "I shall not punish, nor harm you, for doing so, nor do I mean you ill. It is as my friend says." The teapot is largely forgotten for the moment, and he merely sits on the edge of the bed, in shirt and trousers, watching her just as if she actually had a head.
If Seldan fails to be the charmer that Telamon is, then Zeke is even less so. He pays the maid little mind beyond a glance to assure himself that she is there and not near himself at the moment before sipping his tea. One must have tea after all. Siiiiiiip.
Verna is relieved when it is Cosette that steps through the wall. She opens her mouth to offer further platitude, yet pauses when Telamon swoops in most elegantly. To be followed by Seldan, whose word would carry the most weight here. In the end, it is Zeke's lead she follows, as she moves to pour herself a cup of tea and then sip.
Even with Telamon's gentle assurances, Cosette seems so hesitant to speak until Seldan tells her to speak. At that point, she bows again, but never rises back up.
"I was... remembering on the past, milord," she answers. "How I would bring tea to the master in the mornings. I had his favored cup of tea ready for him every day. I would replenish it throughout the day at the times I noticed he would feel tired and we were... Close. Until..."
Her fingers find the hem of her dress and they squeeze tightly. "Until it began to happen, and everyone left. He ordered everyone out. I insisted on staying. I don't regret that. I just wish..."
Her last three words are stained with tears and sniffles.
"You were loyal to him," Telamon says gently. "And maybe, just maybe, we can set things right here, Cosette. But if you can help us, to help him -- because we know he's been praying for help for a long time now -- this can have a better ending. Don't be afraid. Wherever we go, Ni'essa is there, lighting the way."
His dark eyes are lit with stars, but they're also warm and friendly. "Whatever you can tell us, we will gladly listen. Because you are a good person. I know you are, because even in the face of whatever happened, you remained to stay with him."
The woman's words, the picture she paints, brings her role into clearer focus for Seldan. "He calls for aid now, and I am here to aid him," he puts in, quietly. "_We_ are here to aid him. What can you tell us of what happened?" The tea is forgotten, for the moment, and his entire demeanor withdraws, just a little, as he settles into a listening mode.
Telamon was quite right of course. This Cosette had been a good person, and though she was dead now her decency had not left her. Zeke looks at his tea. He sighs. He hadn't even thought twice about making a morning pot of tea for himself and Seldan; having done it so often. Yet now he wondered if his thoughtless habit had injured this poor soul.
"Sssaaa." He hums to the woman thoughtfully. "Sssshare wordsss with ussss, thisss one will pour you sssome tea if you like." Perhaps he could make some small amends.
"I have no use for tea now, honored guest," Cosette responds to Zeke, still bowed. Her voice is still saddened. "But I would like--" She takes a moment to sniffle again. "--To accept your invitation to share in your company."
She finally raises herself upright and joins Zeke. She stays a respectable distance from him, however. Being next to her is like a chill, and so she tries not to be close to any of the living in the room. "Master Rhain was--is--a good man," she says. "He lost his wife when his child was young. It was a dark day then, from what I was told. From that point on, he lived for young Mariana--and for his research."
Her hands go to rest in her lap, clutching at the fabric there. "I believe he was interested in... planar travel. To reunite with those who have gone past Vardama's Judgment and have found their place elsewhere. Or so he admitted to me once when he was deep in his cups of red. But there was more beyond that."
Telamon beckons for Cosette to sit with the others, as he moves over to finally take a cup of tea. "I believe you," he says calmly. "Good men retain loyalty like nothing else. Fear can instill obedience, money can buy a mercenary, but the trust of a good man is a powerful thing indeed."
Taking a seat, his expression grows faintly pensive and his eyes shift to Verna. "It is not given to mortals to move beyond the Hall of Waiting, save as petitioners before the court. I've read of some who did, but even powerful magic cannot gainsay the will of the Harpist; most accept that they must plead their cases to her servants in the Antechamber."
Seldan closes his eyes and lowers them as the sense of what Cosette is saying, and the likely implications, come clear. "He desired the return of that which he loved and lost," he murmurs, very quietly. "And for that, he turned to magics dark indeed. Cosette, what became of his eye?"
Almost as an afterthought, he turns to see if there is any tea poured for him already, or if not, if there is any to be had.
Zeke seems to accept Cosette's company quickly enough, not commenting or even seemingly overly aware of the chill that her presence provides. Though in fact... he is perhaps even more keenly aware of it than are the others. Instead he picks up his tea and listens to the story she tells intently. "More beyond?" He queries politely, encouraging the ghost to tell her tale, and with the effortlessness of care offers Seldan the tea that Zeke had already poured for him.
Verna quietly sips her tea. She neither ignores Cosette nor avoids her, listening respectfully. Both the living and the not deserve such, afterall. Her cup lowers and she swallows firmly following mention of Rhain's tragedy... and more the implied goal that followed. Her eyes meet Telamon's briefly before they move to Cosette. "Indeed. The Cycle is absolute. She may return those whose time has not yet come, yet there comes a step that cannot be untaken. Such truth is fixed, no matter the yearning otherwise; yearning that can pull one onto dire paths if not cautious."
"He became obsessed with the Padaryn lineage," Cosette explains softly. "How the family once held a noble title and was lost through complicated legal means. How he was convinced that the family could tap into the eldanar's blessed lineage and could steal a mote of angelic power to visit the worlds that lay in wait beyond the Harpist's Judgment. He even talked of building a staircase to that realm. It is on the third floor above us, should you gain access to it. It is inaccessible even to me."
Her shoulders seem for all the world like the shoulders of a woman about to cry again. "He never noticed that there was someone who loved him here in this plane, this reality," she says gently. "Someone who loved him enough to..."
She shudders all-over. And then she turns her headless body towards Seldan and says, "The Eye was the source of his corruption. It told him to do things. To cast certain rituals. To make certain preparations. In the end--he... attempted to replace one of his eyes with the Eye," she explains. "He had me... help him. And when it was... installed, that was when... the house in its current state was created. That was when I died and was trapped like this."
Telamon sighs. "A tale as old as time. And you couldn't stop him, even though you loved him." He straightens, and takes a sip of his tea. "Where is the Eye now, Cosette? He has been begging for help, to destroy this thing. I don't know what the nature of it is, but we must try at least."
He looks at the others with a sad smile. "It almost sounds like a song, doesn't it? Something about a stairway to heaven." He shakes his head again.
Seldan reaches for the tea that Zeke offers him, cradling it in both hands, staring down into its depths. He says nothing, immediately, but the sword in its sheath, at the side of the bed, speaks up, its voice that of a deep, younger female. "True nobility's got nothing to do with lands or title. It's about how you serve others."
"Even so," the paladin agrees, his gaze lifting and going to the blade. "I shall see it done," he states. "First must we find it." He finally lifts his head and turns it towards Cosette, sipping at the tea at last. "Your love is true indeed, and it seems that releasing him shall release you as well."
The story is as old as the love and folly of man. Zeke is far from surprised to hear that this ancestor of Seldan's had fallen in such a manner. The others offer comforting words that Zeke can not offer himself. "It sseemssss, that we mussst try to reach thisss third floor." He offers instead as a suggestion, his tea empty, so he returns the cup to its place after rinsing and drying it quickly.
Verna's lips purse into a frown of concern, softened with some understanding. Love and loss have pulled mortals and more along in great measure and quantity, indeed. "Yes. This Eye. This Stairway. We shall return all to as it should be." Her cup is regarded a brief moment before she upends it. A gesture then cleans it before it is resturned. It would be impolite and wasteful to simply discard the remainder. "At your convenience," she notes her readiness to all.
"I am not certain of where the Eye is in this house," Cosette replies gently, "but given that I have yet to ever sight it here on the second floor or on the first--I imagine it is on the third floor, where I cannot venture. Something prevents me from doing so. I have... tried." She motions to the ceiling, and one might get the impression she's tried to do a vertical version of her passing-through-walls trick.
She gives a heavy sigh. "Milord," she says to Seldan, "I thank you for your kindness. But I wanted to stay--until the very end. However, if my love was enough to free him, it would have done so already." There is something bitter and sad about that. "I must trouble you to do so in my stead. For that, I apologize most dearly."
She rises from her chair and bows again. "I will leave you to your morning preparations. But..."
Cosette seems to consider her next words. What she can say. What might be helpful. "Do be careful of the ghost Mariana," she replies. "She can be... tempestuous. I do not understand why she is here, given that the young mistress was sent away from this house when she was young. I fear..."
She grows silent and instead makes her way to the wall instead.
Telamon exhales slowly, adjusting the hem of his tunic before rising as Cosette begins to leave. "Cosette," he calls as she starts to depart. "Have faith. Sometimes, even when all seems darkest, love does find a way." He looks to the others. "I think we need to look into this third floor. But Rhain... if the Eye is influencing him he may not be in his right mind, regardless of his state."
His eyebrows come together at the mention of Mariana. "That one puzzles me. I had thought her a simulacrum, crafted from Rhain's own memories. Though such a creation would... only serve to remind Rhain what he had lost."
"Her light," Seldan stops himself in the midst of his automatic farewall, halfway to sipping his tea, but then he remembers, and lowers his teacup. "Her light on you, Cosette." He then takes a longer pull of his tea and sets the cup aside, running his fingers through his hair to tame it. He stands, then, and starts towards his armor, clearly making ready to move on. "There is work to be done, and I would be about it. The third floor it is."
Zeke gathers the tea cups, stowing them away once again, and offering a polite nod to the ghost as she goes to leave as well. He feels a bit awkward leaving her like this, but they have no intention of actually leaving her to this fate do they? No, they intend to free her and everyone in this house of the curse that had been wrought upon it.