A Fiend In Plain Sight

(Note: This scene takes place before To Find A Mourner)

Lupecyll-Atlon home, midday

The proper days of Spring have arrived, where the showers have eased off and the sunshine is gentle and warm. The citizenry go about their usual business at ease.

Simony is also out and about, wearing a copper-coloured summer dress, protected by her wide-brimmed hat from the sun. Upon her back is a large, closed basket, and despite it's apparent heaviness, she carries it along as if it weighed little.

Her destination is the Lupecyll-Atlon house, where she knocks on the door noisily, a cheerful little beat of a cheeky pub song of an impending marriage and the singer suggesting all sorts of ways of entertainment that they might need to be rescued from in order to make their wedding day.

After a moment, the door to the Lupecyll-Atlon house opens up to reveal Telamon, dressed down in a loose light gray cotton tunic over trousers, his feet tucked into simple slippers. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite priestly goblin!" He gives Simony a big hug, before beckoning. "Please, come in. I have company, but he won't object to meeting one of my friends."

That sounds promising. Or ominous. One wonders who Telamon might be entertaining this fine spring day. "I'm afraid Lana stepped out to hit the market with Addy. She's hunting for some spices to refill our spice racks."

The Goblin grins cheerfully, stepping forward on bare feet to hug at the man. "You have more than one priestly Goblin friend?", she wonders, as she pulls herself free of the large basket. Her ears seem to perk up a little, and she cants her head. "Oh, I do apologize for interrupting someone else's visit... but I'll meet them if they don't mind."

A pale hand pats the basket lid. "I have a few gifts for yourself, and Lana, and the pixies. Some fruits and vegetables from an early harvest at the monastery. I've been trading them in the market for supplies at the monastery, and I've been given leave to take what I wish."

Simony hangs her hat upon a peg on the wall. "Okay, ready to say hello!"

Telamon laughs softly. "Alright, I know maybe... two? Fidget? No, she's a wizard. The proprietess of the TarRaCe -- ah, yes, she's a priest. But I don't know her as well as I do you." He shakes his head. "He knows I get visitors. Besides, you've met him before -- albeit under less congenial circumstances."

Checking the basket, he smiles. "Thank you for this, Simony. I promise it'll be put to good use. I do enjoy cooking and experimenting and Lana, Pothy, and the pixies all appreciate my work." Carrying the basket, he leads Simony into the living room.

"Father, I believe you know Temperance Simony Smithsdottir?" The elf rising from the chair has a saturnine countenance, with arching brows set above dark, thoughtful eyes. His hair a wild shock of dirty blond, he's dressed in a loose-fitting silk shirt, breeches, and slippers much like Telamon's.

"Indeed," Telperius Atlon says as he regards Simony with a faint smile. "Last year, at the Guild, that mess with Periandr Calathra. A pleasure to see you again, Temperance."

"Oh yes, the TarRaCe! Three priestesses founded it, I've heard. The current proprietor is one of them. A Goblin, you say? That's neat. I don't think there are many of us running around, despite being in a city full of temples."

"The hot peppers are on the top, wrapped carefully in paper. There are tomatoes, and a variety of sweet peppers, they're only lightly spicy. And wild strawberries for the pixies, they're tiny, but I think the pixies will like them."

Her cheeks begin to colour immediately, and she fusses with her dress a little, feeling a little underdressed. Offering a polite curtsey, she returns the smile more enthusiastically than given, "A pleasure to meet once more, sir.", she says in faintly accented Sildanyari, switching to trade as she continues. "Ah, Periandr. I hope Periandr is doing well, despite.. well, all that erm... I hesitate to say it was a mess, out of politeness. But it was a bit touch and go for a little while. It did, however, broaden my horizons. To think that there are other worlds close by.. well, close is relative, isn't it. Closer than the gods, farther than a trip to the Jade Isles."

While Telamon is carefully unpacking the basket and storing all the goodies therein, Telperius waits for Simony to take a seat before returning to his own. "The pleasure and honor is all mine, Temperance. From all that Telamon told me, it was something of an adventure for the books." He rubs his chin contemplatively. "I never ran across anything like that myself, thanks be to the gods. This world can be trouble enough."

"I believe the phrase you're looking for, Father, is 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'." Telamon returns, bearing a tray with three talltankards of chilled tea. Setting it down on the coffee table, he takes his seat again. "I spent a fair amount of time contemplating what had happened as well, before deciding it wasn't worth worrying over. If it comes up again, well, then I'll deal with it."

The Goblin settles in a little spot where she is almost equidistant from the others. "I can certainly empathize with your thinking, sir. My time here has been short, and will certainly not be as long as yours, and I feel I have experienced enough of the evil in the world for two lifetimes." She laughs a scratchy little laugh, "But I have seen some amazing things, too. And I have your son to thank for some of those things." A cheeky smile is flashed Telamon's way before glancing back to Telperius. "I hope you're here for a social call, and not something too pressing?"

"Social call," Telamon responds with a smile. He passes a talltankard to his father, and another to Simony, before taking one for himself. "Oh, there's some gossip mixed in, but Father is just in town to check up on things with the embassy here."

Telperius takes a sip from his tankard, nodding in approval. "Telamon does like to hear about what's been happening in Ylvaliel when he's been busy. Instant travel is one thing, but sometimes needs must." The elf inclines his head to Telamon. "Sufficient indeed. But there is happiness to be found. And my son has found it in abundance, even though he's had to fight for it."

Her talltankard is accepted with glee, and she drinks down about halfway before she pauses to let out a happy sigh. "Now it is truly spring." Simony nods her head to Telamon and Telperius.

"If it's worth having, it's worth fighting for, as the old adage goes. Though, I feel it a bit unfair. But the world is rarely fair, all we can do to balance it out is to be kind."

Her expression is pensive for a moment. "No progress as yet to report on finding Kozzy, Tel. I am working up the courage to do a bit of remote viewing."

"Just so." Telperius lifts one arching eyebrow, listening, before flicking a glance at Telamon. Telamon, for his part, makes a disgusted noise. "A fiend, Father. One very good at hiding. I've been applying your mundane lessons, but it's hard to tell where he might be if he's intent on staying under the surface. I even called in some specialist help."

Telperius tilts his head, considering. "Are you sure he's hiding at all? You believe him to have hidden himself away. He may have a different tactic -- you remember the story I told you about Tervin in Selentia?"

The Goblin's eyes flick back and forth between the two Sil, her interest piqued at the mention of Tervin.

"It could be... hiding in plain sight, if that is what you are implying, sir. Whatever its current disposition, it has thus far dodged and corrupted a celestial servant of my deity, as well, it has kidnapped Verna, a dear friend to us all. The servant was attempting to locate the fiend, was corrupted and returned to attempt to kill me."

She flexes a pale, skinny arm, which momentarily thickens and bulges with musculature before shrinking back to normal. "The fiend found my strength more than a match for my servant's. Verna was likewise searching, however, she was scrying I am told, and was taken somehow through that."

Simony lets out a breath at length. "I am a servant of Navos. Knowledge is what I seek out, and I am finding myself drawing blanks. This fiend is a master at getting places it should not. It... it was able to get into the Arcanist's dungeon. Magically. It also shattered their protections and brought hell to us." The Goblin shudders at the remembering, raising her hand to her head, where her hair remains barely more than peach fuzz.

"I had to surgically remove the demon's magics from inside a man's skull."

Telperius's eyes flick to Telamon, but the half-sil sorcerer's gaze is steady. "We are on the move, Father. Verna will not remain imprisoned for long. And any who seek to bar our way, well..." Telamon calmly closes his slim hand into a fist. "They will be dealt with."

There's a long moment, before Telperius makes a hard smile of approval. "You have grown, my son. I only wish I could offer more than simply my thoughts." Telamon shakes his head. "We'll be hitting it with a full team. Besieging it with an army risks a massive diplomatic incident with Charn. No, we'll be in and out and leave nothing to directly connect us." He exhales. "But yes, Simony. I think the bastard's hiding in plain sight somehow. Remember, celestials and fiends are so bound up in their motivations, they have trouble deviating from them. He's probably no different."

Simony nods enthusiastically. "We will return Verna, and knock down Charn if we have to." She smiles at Telperius, "I imagine you would make a dashing adventurer, sir. Your knowledge and experience would be as frightening as any weapon."

She frowns then, her voice lowering.

"If I am guessing correctly, I am going to have to operate on a local noble. He has a way of getting into people's heads. Literally."

Telamon chuckles at that. "Father, one day you'll have to tell me some stories when you were in Her Majesty's service. I know you were more than a diplomat." He gives the elf a wry grin. "You can't hide the calluses on your fingers, sir."

Telperius's expression never changes, but he tilts his head to acknowledge a point. "Someday," he agrees. "But not now. Suffice to say, Temperance, I have served the Mythwood in many ways. And I continue to do so."

At the mention of operating, both father and son raise their eyebrows. "Step carefully, Simony," Telamon warns. "If this fiend has his hooks into a noble, we'll need more than just our word to do any kind of... intervention. The Alexandrian nobility are notoriously touchy about us 'knuckle-dragging sellswords' causing trouble."

The Goblin grins at the clue Telamon provides, and nods to Telperius. "I will hope to live long enough to read what you may write, or have already written, about those days, sir. I do love reading about such things."

Glancing back to Telamon, Simony's expression grows blank. "I will do what I must to send that thing back to the depth of Hell whence it spawned. I am a priestess of Navos, among other hats I may wear, and nobles may wish to step carefully around me. I think they'll agree that fiends should not get their hooks into anyone, and any who... impede or obstruct an intervention may just find themselves under scrutiny." She lets out a lengthy breath.

"But I understand your caution. This thing has already tried to kill me once. It is dangerous. As are nobles who get their underclothing in a bunch."

"Perhaps. And you're doing the right thing. I just don't want you to become a pariah or outcast from the city." Telamon leans over to take Simony's hand. "Even if you'd be welcome in Ylvaliel, I wouldn't want that to happen to you."

Tel furrows his brow. "Still. Maybe we can turn this against the fiend." His starry eyes consider, then a small grin appears. "Father, remember how you once managed to slip out of Ecclesia?"

The elder Atlon looks bemused. "Yes, but I'm not sure what you're getting at, son."

Telamon chuckles in response. "We need to encourage the nobility to take steps to protect themselves from being influenced. Couch it in terms they'll understand and they'll line up around the block at the temples for warding."

Her brow furrows as she considers that for a time, before shaking her head. "That would be upsetting, I'll agree, but... I honestly never againt want to remove the top of a person's skull with naught but fingerclaws, jagged pieces of an expensive gemstone and a rock. If annoying the nobles is the price of that, it is a price well paid."

Simony glances from Tel to Tel and back again, a smile returning to her expression.

"That's easy, Telamon! Just explain to them that the fiend will spend their gold on frivolous things. Like seven thousand copies of the Crimson Pen. Or multiple useless ships with rotten sails and full bilges!"

"Precisely," Telamon grins broadly. "Most of the nobility can't stand the idea of becoming 'common', or -- gods forbid -- needing to get a job. If they think this fiend's out to ruin them... they'll run, not walk, to get protection. And we can narrow down who it might be."

Telperius is smiling as well, the hard curve of the experienced professional. "You'll still need official imprimatur," he warns. "But if you can get the temples involved -- I imagine the Vardamen, for example, might be willing to issue writs that would force the question with any suspect nobles." He shrugs lightly. "They have had their own problems with infiltration. I imagine they might be inclined to help."

Her expression grows serious once more, and nods to Telperius. "The Vardaman temple will most likely assist us, we are going to go and rescue one of their most senior members. That at least gives us an in." She finishes off her tea, and hops down from her seat, setting the talltankard on the table.

"I have some writing to do, it seems, and more planning." Simony curtseys once more to Telperius, "A pleasure, once more, sir. Be well, and may we meet once more on a sunny, calm day." Telamon gets a hugs. "Thank you for the tea and company, Tel. Enjoy the fruits and veggies, and say hello to Cor'lana for me, and the pixies." She can be heard giggling as she races to the front door.

"Are they still enjoying their eye candy on the fresco?"