Simony's Haven

University District

A light snow has been falling all morning, after several days of sunshine and bitter cold. People go about their business in the neighbourhood, a rather ordinary day. Until it's not.

It starts as a low, hushed whisper that starts to spread, and is further fueled by movement of the city guards in formation. Their general direction is towards the university district. Here and there, once can hear screams and shouts, with a general unease settling into those out and about in the city.

The fervent knocking at the door is preceded by one such scream, more a cry of shock.

The door, when opened, reveals the haggard and ghastly state that Simony's in. Hair burnt to grey wisps, her normally pristine robes barely covering her, and what skin that shows is badly burned with the faintest traces of any sort of care given. The Goblin appears to have knelt in blood, given the mess around her knees, while her bared arms are covered in blood from her fingertips to her elbows.

She draws breath only to sob and stagger inside.

Telamon may be unfazed by the cold, but he's not a huge fan of snow. Which is why he's happily ensconced in his nice warm house, with a fire burning in the hearth and a cup of hot tea and a good book. What could possibly disrupt this state of affairs?

One of these days, Telamon will remember not to tempt fate like that.

He frowns at the knock, and the cry, dropping his book and striding to the door. He's dressed casually, in simple tunic and trousers with house slippers on, but the focus in his mind is that if there's trouble, he's going to be happy to -stop- it.

And then he opens the door, and freezes in shock. "Simony!" As she staggers in, he kneels to catch the battered, bloody goblin up in his arms, uncaring of stains. "Gods! Easy, easy... let me carry you." His mind flicks to his wife, calling to her mentally.

It would indeed be a good state of affairs to be snowed in, but any thought that Cor'lana has on it is quite soundly shattered by the call of her husband. She strides downstairs, outfitted in a cozy woolen dress that matches the color of her hair, and her violet eyes widen when she sees how much blood is on Simony.

"Everything will be well," is the first thing that Cor'lana can think of saying. She goes to help Telamon with the carrying, also unconcerned with getting blood on her clothes. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

The Goblin struggles to rein in her upset, struggling to even breathe easily, and for a short time she closes her eyes and simply lets the tears flow. And the breaths come when they may. She does cling tightly to Telamon's hand, however, painfully so, putting all of her strength into it.

"Hell came to Alexandria.", she blurts out. "The Arcanist's dungeon's magical protections have vanished, and Hell came to us." Her eyes open, and she focuses her haunted gaze at Cor'lana first, and then Telamon.

"I went with Aelwyn to the Arcanist's dungeon to visit his brother. Harkashan and Verna also accompanied Aelwyn. We intended to try to discern what had happened... remember the demon summoning at the circus troupe's show, Aelwyn's old group?" Simony inhales and exhales a ragged breath. "We started talking to the man, trying to see what he remembered." Her hand reaches up, grabbing ahold of Telamon's tunic and using it to pull herself up into a sitting position in his arms. "Then, all at once... I could feel Navos' presence in my head, that little feeling of pressure when I am able to command that sliver of divinity given unto me. And then everything was burning. The bars holding prisoners in burned like the prisoners themselves."

Simony lets out a little squeak of fear... "I can't, I can;'t... why did it have to be fire?" A hand goes up so that she might see it, shaking and shivering... "I.. I am sorry about your tunic, Telamon. I'll ..." Her eyes flick to Lana, and she nods lightly... "I hurt all over, it stings, I burned like the ... the prisoners."

Telamon listens intently, his expression tight. "Damn. That's going to set the cat among the pigeons. How the hells did they break the anti-magic ward there? I asked once if I could give it a push -- with permission, obviously -- and I couldn't get so much as a cantrip out."

He exhales. "Alright. Let's tend to immediate issues. We'll draw a bath for you, get you cleaned up. I'll mend your robes, and I'm sure we have some healing draughts around here, what with all the trouble Lana and I get into."

"I wonder who they'll get to restore the ward?" Tel muses. "Probably Mikilos. He's well known enough."

"Any ward can be broken with persistent enough damage... And interlopers who sneak in and weaken it," Cor'lana muses. For her part, she gives Simony a comforting pat on the head for a moment, given how the goblin is in Telamon's arms. "Let me go run the bath. Pothy? You've got a Navosian to comfort!"

It's not long before Pothy swoops into the room as Cor'lana's leaving it. The raven comes to rest on Telamon's shoulders, soft-taloned as always, and his blue eyes peer down at the albino goblin. "Ohh dear," he says softly. "You really did get yourself into a number, huh, Simony. It's okay. You can share all of my snacks."

Cor'lana's smiling just a little to herself as she slips into the bathing chamber to run the bath. It's hard not to smile at Pothy trying to be a little friend.

"We.. we saved him though. He should have died. He did die. But he wanted to live more than I wanted to save him."

The Goblin shudders, going limp in Telamon's arms. "A uh bath sounds nice and terrifying at the same time. Do you have any aloe? It should help with the pain at least. And uhm..." A deep breath is taken, one that causes her to cough. "S.s.sorry.. uhm. I know how it was done, Telamon. And this is the most ingenious and insidious thing, I recoil at thinking too much about it.'

"The fiend... I do not know how this was accomplished, I do not understand how Jacob came to meet the fiend, how a deal was struck or anything... but the fiend inscribed his magic INSIDE. THE. MAN'S. SKULL." Those last words forced out with a tone of fear and loathing in her voice." She sobs again. "Verna and Harkashan helped me operate... with my bare hands.." The Goblin gestures to her tiny fingerclaws. "A sharp rock and a large gem, I cut his skin and opened his skull so that we might expose it to our magics, and physically scrape the circle away." That would explain the excessive amounts of blood that is mostly not hers.

"S.sorry, Pothy.. they confiscated the little pouch I have filled with peanuts for you and.. and... I forgot it on my way out." This is apparently more upsetting than all the other things happening, and she bursts into tears anew.

"Sometimes people cling to life even in incredible circumstances. They refuse to quit. It's admirable." Telamon lets Simony clutch at him, blood and tears and dirt be damned. His arms around her, careful not to touch the healing burns. "We do have some soothing salves. But you need to get this blood and filth off you, Simony. Don't worry about clothes, or towels. We'll deal with that."

He listens to Simony's description, and something flickers in his eyes, deep and dark. Then he shudders a tiny bit. "How... you know what, I don't want to know. I don't want to know how the bastard did it. That's the sort of thing you just don't want to learn about." He grabs Simony's bloody hand. "But Simony, you have to remember: you saved him. Yes, he wanted to live, and you helped him be free. Hold onto that." As the goblin priestess bursts into tears again, he offers Pothy a grateful smile. "Thanks, little brother. You're a good friend."

"The capacity for cruelty that fiends have never cease to amaze," Pothy says derisively. "Although there are others who are just as cruel in the world." His voice is a haunted, knowing tone, and his feathers puff up in a sort of defense mechanism. "Don't worry about the peanuts, Simony. There are plenty of peanuts at the market. But they're fresh out of Simonies. You're the only one. Can't buy another one if I tried." His little boyish voice is, of course, gleeful with the implication there.

"You don't own Simony, Pothy," Cor'lana says with a sigh as she reemerges from the bathing chamber. "Bath will be ready shortly; it's just filling up now. That had to have been awful, Simony, and I'm so dearly sorry you endured all of that. It's as Telamon says... You helped save him."

She gaves a sad, knowing smile. "And every day that you do get to save someone who should live is a good thing."

"It was the only good thing that happened between then, and y.you opening the door, Telamon.", Simony says sadly. "But the day is not over. Prisoners escaped. Some died, some are badly wounded and perhaps dying, but some escaped. The implications of .. ah fuck, I think one of the guards was in on it, one of them was acting a bit oddly and ran off just... just before Hell opened up."

She reaches up to rub hat her face, leaving red smears all over herself. Only then she realizes and the look on her face is on of revulsion. "Eewwwh..."

Her smile returns, though, with the antics of the Raven, and the praise of a good deed done, no matter how arduous it was. She snorts. "You don't own me, but I would allow you to borrow me for brief periods of time. For the sharing of snacks."

The smile slowly recedes, however. "I.. I might quit this time around. I... I close my eyes and all I can see if people burning. I don't know if, this time, I can commit again to stepping into the unknown. I... I just want a comfortable little library and an unlimited supply of pencils, pens and paper. Safer."

His face turns into a scowl. "That's going to have 'lots of guild business' written all over it," Telamon remarks. "And it won't be easy, either. Those prisoners won't want to return to their cells just because someone asks nicely." He pauses, and can't help but smirk. "Not even if I was the one asking."

He pulls out a handkerchief and tries to wipe the red smudges off Simony's face. "Look... Simony, you're straight up freaked out and traumatized. If I'd been in your shoes I'd be gibbering in the corner. So before you make any decisions... I think you need to recover. Rest. Heal. You don't draw on an empty stomach or when you're sleepy, do you? Same thing."

Tel gives Lana a grateful smile. "Lana, my love, you are a goddess among mortals. Do we have any aloe salve in the cabinet? She may need it."

Cor'lana grins at Telamon. "That's dangerous to say in front of a Temperence," she says, but then again, she likes his throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude... Sometimes. (Otherwise, as some rumor papers have argued, Telamon might not have married the bewitching Temptress of Alexandria.)

She quickly retrieves salve from the cabinet and brings it to Telamon. "I can apply it," she offers. Sometimes there's some comfort in a lady being treated by another lady, even if Telamon and Simony's relationship is, in a way, not all that different from Pothy and Lana's. Or Pothy and Telamon's. Or Pothy and... Pothy has a lot of siblings who feed him snacks.

Pothy looks on. "Well no, I don't own Simony, but technically, we do answer the call of the same entity," he says, before adding, "Libraries are not very safe places, either. Paper cuts. Forbidden books filled with knowledge. Nadi opened a book once that was supposed to be filled with erotic delights and it nearly snapped her hand off with the maw it suddenly grew. That's what happens when you design a book-shaped trap intended for a man, especially when one hand's occupied."

It's suddenly and abundantly clear that Pothy's trying to do a standup routine to take Simony's mind off the moment of awful that she'd been subjected to.

The Goblin goes silent for a moment, regarding Telamon curiously. "I refuse to believe that you would be gibbering in a corner. That's not you." She giggles lightly as he tries to clean up her face a little. "I mean... magical compulsion aside, or fear powers... you have always had your head about you, in my experience." She abruptly attempts to stand then, to wiggle free from Telamon's care. "The bath sounds like a lovely thing now. But.. I don't want to be alone, would you all come with me? Just standing by the door would be fine... and I would need help getting the aloe onto my back. It is going to be difficult enough to sleep..."

Simony pauses a moment. "There's little I do intentionally on an empty stomach, to be fair... And you are both gods among us mortals."

Pothy's antics this time around draw a different reaction. Her expression becomes ... shrewd. "Do you answer Navos' call?", the Goblin wonders, looking thoughtful now, and then she wrinkles her nose. "Little brothers should not be reading such things."

"Lana, why don't you help Simony with the bathing, and putting the aloe on? I'll sit by the door with Pothy, working on her robes." Telamon lets Simony wriggle loose, now that she's not shaking and sobbing. "We all have our limits, Simony. Sometimes you don't find out till you hit them."

He grins at Simony's study of Pothy. "You could say that, Simony. But that's not really my tale to tell. I'll let Lana and Pothy tell it -- so I don't make any mistakes."

"Don't let Telamon and I fool you otherwise," Cor'lana says gently to Simony then. "There have been times both of us have hit our limit. I have seen Telamon afraid. I have seen Telamon shed tears. And he has seen me plenty in both of those states. There were a lot of tears in the path to now, and there are tears in the path ahead. That is life, and that is living--two different and yet related things, in a sense."

She smiles a little, taking Simony's hand gently. "I'll happily come with you. It's not fun to try and bathe when you're burnt. Grandfather has a sleepytime tea blend to help with the sleeping, too." It's another lavender tea, but this one is lavender and chamomile, often sweetened in the Lupecyll-Atlon home with a bit of honey.

Pothy stands at attention almost dutifully on Telamon's shoulder. "You could say that," he replies to Simony. "###### made me." The name--or word--is like static noise. "So there's... a relation. I am, after all, a source of knowledge for every member of Cor'lana's maternal bloodline who has inherited me."

"Even if all he knows is food," Cor'lana says with the roll of her eyes as she leads Simony to the bathing chamber.

The Goblin is quick to follow Cor'lana to the bath, willingly being led by the hand. Wiggling out of the ruin of her robes, she reaches around the doorway to hold them out for Telamon to take. "I would also be in your eternal debt if you would allow me more of that hair tincture. I.. would shave myself bald again, but I uhm.. " A sniffle is heard. "I got used to having nice long hair. And... I wish I wouldn't hit limits when... things are dire, and someone's life is literally in my hands."

Simony steps into the bath gingerly, slowly sinking down into it, alternating between sighing in relief and making little tssss noises of pain. "Tea will be helpful to relax my mind also.", she notes. "How... do you manage to get back up every time, Cor'lana. Yourself and Telamon have both gone through some pretty horrible things. You are both powerful and pretty people, and you face jealousy and envy, people who wish you ill, even things that aren't even people. Does it get any easier?"

"If I had any idea how truly awful it would be sometimes, I might not have left the comfort and safety of home, even if it was gilded, it was a cage."

The Goblin's ears straighten slightly, and she rubs at them... "Sorry, whom did you say made you, Pothy? And... I would be happy to learn more of you and your purpose, if you and Lana wish to share." Simony glances between the two.

Telamon takes the bloody, burned, tattered robes easily. "See, I'm not sure you -did- hit your limit, Simony. You didn't crack when someone's life was in your hands. Yes, you kind of fell apart -here- -- after the battle was done. That's not a terrible thing. No one can endure all the weight of the world."

He begins to murmur a chant, drawing magic into his fingers. The robes starting to knit back together, stardust coalescing into new fabric. "Lana and I have faced many things. But we've faced them together. I don't know if it's become easier per se, but... we've gotten stronger, able to endure without falling. And, of course, we know when we have to keep a strong face, and when it's all right to cling to each other for support."

"Telamon has the right of it again," Cor'lana remarks, producing a bottle of oil from a cabinet in the bathing room. She pours a bit of it into the bathtub, and it proves to be something that helps soothe all the more. "And there have been times where I have fallen apart in the duration of action. There was a dream where the snow was falling... Where winter came, and..."

She sighs. "That was long ago," she says. "Months ago. Nearly a year, now. Since then... I have simply done what I am called to do. I cry about it later. There have been nights where Telamon's woken up to me screaming of night terrors. Yet I perservere."

Cor'lana's eyes are hard, like amethyst gems. "Because if I do not, then all the evil and darkness in the world just might. Because if I do not, then how is the future I am working for going to unfold? There is a world ahead of Telamon and I, with three little daughters waiting to be born. And I work every day for a peace in which they might play and wonder at the world around them. And I work every day for a peace in which they might never understand the songs of pain and sorrow I have sung. I don't want them to. I think that's every mother's wish. It was mine--and she caged me for it, too, Simony."

She sighs again, this time more gently. "But I am here. That is the point. I am here. Despite it all, I am here."

"And it's everyone's problem," Pothy quips as he watches Telamon work. "Now, as for who made me... Umm. There isn't much I can say. We haven't talked in a very long time, and... He changed." Pothy's voice is very sad.

"Possibly a servitor of Navos, is my guess," Cor'lana offers, "but I don't know, and Pothy's rather mum on the subject."

Simony's mood has slowly improved as the memories of just a short time ago have begun to recede, as she moves forward, away from the carnage and horror. The mess that had caked her body, especially her arms, has slaked off. A long breath is drawn in, held and let go, and the Goblin stands, hopping from the tub with a greater enthusiasm than when she jumped in. The towel is used gently, for though aloe and hot water have soothed the aches and pains associated with burns, even the softest towel might wreak havoc on that tender skin. "Thank you both for being here when I was lost. And for everything. You are my dearest friends."

"To be honest, it has been you two who have kept me going in the darker times. The feeling of being part of something larger, not hearing about history, not witnessing it... being a part of it."

"Someone once wrote, 'There is something going on in time and space, and beyond time and space, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty.'" Mony smiles broadly. "That's what you speak up, Cor'lana. We owe a duty two that bright future. I guess we also owe it to ourselves to remind each other from time to time, of this duty."

Fully wrapped in a towel much longer than herself, her grin only broadens. "I know, Pothy. He changed. But... well... have to keep your chin up. As we mortals go, so do the Gods. What has been wrought can be undone."