Unravel Their Riddles

Lupecyll-Atlon home, midmorning

The sun blazes outside on this clear Tariday morning, washing over Alexandria and a two-story house in the University District in particular. The windows are open, the warm breeze flowing through the house, aided by a gnomish-built box-fan set in one of the windows and driven by unseen hands.

Still recovering from an unexpected jaunt and some serious pain, Telamon is sprawled out on the couch, dressed in light cotton garments. A talltankard of frosted tea sits on the table next to him, and he is paging through a book, his dark eyes focused in thought. There's no sign of obvious injury, only a relative slowness to his movements that might come from anything, really.

Casually, the sorcerer picks up his tankard, draining it, before hmming and gesturing to thin air. A large pitcher floats over from the kitchen, settling on the table.

The Goblin's announces her presence by flying around Telamon's house, passing by upper windows, though she doesn't intrude by peering into them.

A short time later, she announces herself inside the doorway. "Hello Telamon! Cor'lana?" Her little face peeks into the living room first, and she grins. "Tel! Taking some time to relax? This is good!" She approaches the couch, "How have you been?"

Telamon's head comes up at Simony's greeting, and his face relaxes into a smile. "Simony! Come in... I had something of an unpleasant night. It started rough, and got rougher, and... well, I survived, but now I have more questions than answers."

The half-elf sits up from the sofa, stretching with a groan. "Lana's out getting some things." He tilts his head in that characteristic way. "And she says hello, and that I'm not to overdo it today. No gardening. She insists you help with that." He smirks faintly. "Here I am, pushed around by my lovely wife and my friends."

There's a distinct frown from Simony, and she comes to the couch, floating in the air about six inches from the ground. A translucent pair of angelic wings sprout from her gold and silver chainmail, flapping lightly to keep her aloft. A little hand pushes against his shoulder gently. "If Cor'lana says to relax, then you should relax. I can tend to your gardening, if you wish to tell me what needs doing. It would be my pleasure."

Simony laughs lightly. "I am not pushing you around." She smacks a fist into her palm. "But first, you're going to tell me what happened last night." Okay... now she's pushing him around.

"More like she said, and I quote, 'sit on him if he tries to do anything more strenuous than lifting a teakettle'." Telamon grins. "Since I know your predilections and skills, I will abstain from challenging you." He furrows his brow, a new line there since she saw him last. "I think it would be easier to show you."

The unseen servant heads upstairs, returning with Telamon's haversack. Removing a scroll from it, he aims one of his rings at the scroll -- a shimmer of light briefly appearing, before winking out. Tucking the scroll away, he nods. "Are you familiar with memory-sharing spells?"

"Well, if you are injured in some fashion, I couldn't do that, Tel. I mean, I am willing to sit comfortably in your lap, though perhaps not in this armor. But I am not going to do anything that will hurt you. As amusing as it would be for Lana go come home to find me having used righteous might to sit on you as an almost seven foot tall Goblin lady." Simony giggles at the idea.

Her eyebrows raise up and she lifts a hand, waggling it slightly. "I know of them, and well, their use is pretty self explanatory. I have not had the erm pleasure of having one used on me. But if it's easier, I'm willing to give it a try."

"I'm not hurt, not like that. Just... achey. Probably from a combination of dream-injury and yanking myself through the planar void unconsciously." Telamon sighs. "Alright, hold still. I'm going to sit here comfortably, but you get to experience this." A simple gesture, a murmured word, and Telamon touches Simony's forehead--

The dream plays out for her, the encounter in the gardens, the realization of something lurking inside the hapless changeling. Telamon enduring the pain of the evil, but not being felled, and instead -wrenching the daemon free-, his fist around its neck.

But it's not enough, and after Lana is violently ejected from the dream, Telamon flees with the changeling -- first to Quelynos, and then to Leca'fi Amdamu. Simony shares in the memory, and can feel Telamon's terror and exaltation as he successfully excises the summoning circle from Yehor.

The Goblin is not having a great time during this shared memory. First there is pure rage, her knuckles cracking loudly at the part where Telamon pulls the daemon free. Her size increases noticeably, as she attempts to crush the daemon with the strength loaned to her by Navos, the White Raven.

But her shock at seeing how Telamon excises the summoning circle is palpable.

"Could you actually do that outside a dream?", is her earnest question. "If so, we may need your keep if we're to fully purge this fiend. As much as I am loathe to do, I can perform more surgeries. But I do not know if I could survive the task if there are many people that need to be tended to."

Abruptly, they are back in the house, the sun pouring in and a second talltankard making its way over. Telamon pours tea for both of them, gripping each tankard to chill it properly, before he responds. "That's... where this gets weird. The last time something like this happened, it involved the totems. Somehow, by stepping through the dream, I was able to bodily transport myself to Quelynos."

Tel makes a disgusted face. "Fortunately, I was wearing pajamas. But I didn't have my gear. Hell of a shock for poor Lana though. She said I just -vanished-. Yes, I know, the ward -- and this bothers me too. I shouldn't be able to do this. What worries me more is that guess who showed up to collect Yehor, the changeling, after I'd excised the circle?"

It takes a few moments for Simony to relax, seeming to deflate as the motes of Navos' strength leave her. Her frown is renewed. "Those totems... I am still irked that Ous was allowed to keep one," Rubbing at her cheek, her eyebrows raise up. "Uhm. Perhaps there is some meaning of teleportation, or gating, that is outside the ward's parameters? Intentional or otherwise."

The Goblin settles back upon the couch, running a hand over her fuzzy scalp. "Okay, so I know that when you go into the astral plane, you have a uhm ... tether? A thing that keeps you anchored. But it can be broken. What if dreaming is the same thing? That our minds wander the dream world but we're tethered to our bodies. What if the ward can't prevent that? We're not teleporting, we're dreaming. So what if you just simply dreamed yourself to Quelynos, and then yanked on your tether, pulling your body to you?" The Goblin shrugs.

"I mean, stranger things have happened."

She shivers.

"Who?"

Telamon frowns. "That is... not the way I would've conceived it. But you have a point. Damn. I mean, the totems were crafted from deific power, I could understand them being able to pierce the Alexandrian ward. But this... worries me." He taps his fingertip against his chin. "Let's -not- spread this around, Simony. The city council does not need to hear about this yet. But I definitely want to discuss it with Verna."

He picks up his tankard, sipping from it. "Captain Doyle," he says flatly. "Which, when we last saw him, came by to collect Varyssa." He cuts his gaze to Simony, his starry eyes intent. "I do not believe in coincidences. I find it beggars imagination that the Queen of Air and Darkness's right hand just -happens- to keep popping up when we're bouncing off this daemon or his schemes."

The Goblin makes a gesture, as if she were drawing a zipper across her mouth. "I won't breathe a word of it to anyone." Her mouth hangs open, and then closes again. "Uhm. What if it is deific power that the fiend is using? And what if it was deific power that you used? You are one of Eluna's favourites. She may grant a boon if you prayed or wished hard enough for it Hopefully in the form of some servant of hers, and not direct intervention. That would ruffle feathers among the pantheons."

She frowns deeply at the name. "How so very convenient. Too convenient. If she's meddling, she is going to get a comeuppance, Telamon. This cannot stand."

"Perhaps. I... think I may need to inquire directly. The castle is well guarded, and She would certainly hear my plea for guidance there." Telamon rakes his hand through his hair. "It may well be she has granted me this boon, that I might be able to counter the fiend. Or fiends. Remember Verna's speculations that we are dealing with more than one."

"Which indeed leads back to Doyle, and his Queen. Do not discount her, Simony; she is the power in the Unseelie Court. Capable of charming and compelling those before her who do not enjoy the blessing of true love." Telamon drums his fingers on his knee. "The question is -why-. What does it profit her? I know she is cruel, and delights in cruelty, but I would expect such machinations alongside a devil, not a daemon."

"May I come along with you to visit your keep? I could look around while you convene with the White Disc." Her good humour seems to return with this opportunity. "A boon to counter the fiends, or, a means of escape. And I am beginning to believe her. There was someone, a guard, on the inside who enabled the Arcanist's Dungeon to lose its warding. Likely had one of those summoning circles in his head... and pulled off a feat that sidestepped around their ward. I really do not like nor believe in coincidences. Also!"

Here her frown returns. "Lancet returned, and apparently Gearsmasher did as well. That smacks of deific power, Telamon. Though, perhaps it is a necromancer, but it has not been said that either Lancet or Gearsmasher were undead after their miraculous return." Simony sighs.

"I do not discount her or take the threat lightly. But it appears, more and more, that there is a hand guiding the fiend. We have had numerous plots lately..." She trembles. "Does this have something to do with Animus?" A shrug then. "Something only she can answer. Or, perhaps, our good Captain Doyle."

"Not every villain's return is a sign of deific intervention, Simony. Sometimes all that is required is mortal hubris -- or idiocy." Telamon places his hand on Simony's shoulder, squeezing gently. "And meanwhile, while there is life there is hope. We will continue to face them down."

"I think you'd appreciate Leca'fi Amdamu, Simony. So yes. We'll make arrangements -- I don't plan to be away from here long, after all. And of course, the larder is stocked and the wineracks filled. It's nice to have a refuge." Tel's eyes twinkle merrily. "You should see the bed in the master bedroom. Absolutely ridiculous."

At the mention of Animus, Telamon's expression becomes thoughtful. "I don't know. It's hard to tell sometimes what kind of machinations are in play. But that's why we have minds, and magic, and are willing to ask for help. We'll unravel all their riddles."