Jamboree Aftermath

While there was an underlying tension in the markets when she arrived, and when she left, Aya did not expect any eruptions nor explosions. Certainly not any time soon, and most assuredly not in a LITERAL sense. Thus the brief pillar of fire lighting up the market she had only just departed was surprising. Not to mention conspicuous. Still undelivered groceries are in hand as she moves back through the crowd towards the smoldering epicenter.

GAME: Seldan rolls 6d6: (17): 17

On this most dreary of days, the market district has been rocked by an explosion. People lay all over the ground. Some of them with their clothes torn. Stalls are mostly intact, but a couple are the worse for wear in the aftermath. The sky is threatening to rain, as if to make everything that more... dire. Yet it holds off a little while longer, allowing those who witnessed the events to gather. Dirk and his pony, Ravenstongue and her Pothy. Seldan, still looking crookedly at a statue in his hands. And Serene, looking much the same worse for wear that Seldan is... or was until a moment ago when divine magic spread through her body and restored much of her vitality.

"Your marksmanship was inspired, Hunter, and your heart was true when you went for the statuette," Serene tells Dirk as he's turning away, and her attention goes to that very statue. The battle clearly revealed some of its role in the chaos that erupted in the market. Or at least its importance. "And the way the two of you," she goes on to say, including Ravenstongue, "Reacted to the magic that befell the people here.. it is not your first time dealing with Caracoroth's children."

Cor'lana is, thankfully, no worse for wear than when she'd first stepped into the marketplace, although there's dust on her dress and on Pothy's feathers. She looks at Selene and nods. "Yes, I've had a little bit to do with them," she replies, "but my fiance, Telamon Atlon, has actually dealt with them more as of late."

She looks at Pothy with a little smile, patting the white raven on his little fluffy head. This gets a set of small coos from the bird, who is more than happy to receive his mistress's affection. "And I've met that... creature before," she says, gesturing to the spot where the demon had been with a nod of her head. "She tried to kill my Tel, and I knew that if my magic didn't work on her before... The likelihood of it working again would be slim. Especially with what I've gone through lately. So I focused on making sure you all could get into the fray and making sure the furred ones wouldn't be so likely to harm others."

Dirk sets his rifle aside and settles down heavily into his chair, reaching for the pipe he'd set down on his display table. He knocks the ashes out of the bowl and goes to refill it from his jar of cherry blend, nodding his head. "No, m'lady, it's not," he says, tamping the bowl with a fingertip. "There was another lass siccin' lycans on innocent folk, right here in this verra market, not so long ago." He tucks the bit of of his pipe in the side of his mouth and fishes in his pockets for a match, striking a flame and puffing the tobacco to life. "It was awful," he says around a billow of sweet pipe smoke, snapping the match out and flicking the spent matchstick into a nearby rubbish bin. "Deer, fox, martin, or badger, I can bring down easy. Hell, I've brung down bear a time or two. But those werewolves... Great Gilead's Ghost, they're a terror!"

Seldan is leaned up against a stone storefront, rather thoroughly bloodied and with a nose that is quite obviously broken. He'll probably have a spectacular set of bruises in short order, and only after the silver light fades beneath his hands do his eyes appear to be fully focusing. When he speaks, it is with a much heavier Myrrish accent, the sound distinctly off, unusually quiet and nasal. "Indeed," he agrees. "I would hear this tale." He seems entirely unaware that the statue of a woman in armor in his hand looks entirely different from the one the demon carried.

"That is then the one that threatened you? That is well, although ware you, she is not destroyed, merely sent home. We must find her summoner, or pursue her into the Hells."

As the people move to and fro, some approaching, some fleeing for quieter pastures, a platinum-haired half-elf comes striding through the throng. Dressed in fine garments as is his wont, Telamon walks with a -purpose-, with intent, his starry eyes intense as he searches. Until, finally, his gaze lands on Cor'lana, and he swiftly moves towards her. "Lana," he says -- that's all he needs to say, all that needs to be said, as he reaches out to take her hands in his. She's safe. That's what matters.

The sound of an explosion in the marketplace has drawn not only the return of those who were previously here, but the presence of new figures as well. Zeke makes his way into the marketplace at a somewhat hurried (for him) pace and looks around at the group of people before lighting his eyes upon Seldan. "Kin." He states quietly, then seems to realize that there are others. "Peasssce on your nessstss."

He sidles closer to the paladin, the blue-scales of the sith-makar shining in the dimness. Nothing compared to the crystal limbs that are attached to his left side however. They are wholly remarkable things that move as if he was born to them. "Thisss one heard the explossssion."

Aya steps, possibly nudges, her way through bystanders dazed in the aftermatch. "Serene?! Cor'lana?!" she calls as she reaches ground zero. "Are you... Seldan? Zeke?" Some she knew were recently present, others she was unaware were or have arrived. She stops, looking between those leaning, possibly smoking, and/or may appear otherwise unscathed.

Cor'lana's face lights up as she pushes herself into Telamon's arms, hugging him tightly--and pushing her head into that space underneath his chin where she so neatly fits. "Tel, I'm okay. Not a scratch, promise," she says softly, squeezing him a little before she lets go of him.

"Werewolves again, Tel--and our unwelcome guest again." There's a beat where Cor'lana clarifies, "Sorry, the fiendish one. Sir Seldan and Lady Serene here just sent her back to where she belongs--which means she's not gone for good, but it'll take effort to get her back here." She seems happy about that.

Then she looks at Aya and nods. "Yes! We're safe. Everything's okay, it seems."

Serene seems satisfied that most things are in their proper place. Most. She gives a short not, absorbing Ravenstongue and Dirk's responses, explanations. Seldan's followup. Her gaze does rest upon the statue for a moment; she hadn't the best of looks at it before, but it definitely seems different. But then her attention moves on. Another time. Priorities. "Sunguard.. please assist, you have devotions left from the day. Some of the people here were transformed against their will. The hunter and young arcanist's actions saved many from being hurt, but there still may be injured." Of course, many, if not most have likely fled, and still more seem to be showing up to investigate the explosion. But Serene won't let anyone still here go overlooked.

Telamon folds his arms around Lana, burying his face in her hair for a moment. A long, shuddery breath, but then he composes himself again. Focused. He keeps her tucked in for a moment longer, before nodding. "Then we're in their debt, even if the respite is temporary. Werewolves and demons and chaos... never a dull moment in the city."

He squeezes Lana once, before turning his eyes to the others now, as if remembering there are others present. "Thank you," he says, quietly and heartfelt.

Seldan appears to be pulling himself together, although he's bloodied pretty good. His nose is quite clearly broken, and he's bruised and weary, his skin reddened. Despite this, he appears both coherent and well-satisfied. "Kin, Her light upon your path." Visibly brightening at the familiar greeting, as well. "The Mourner warned me that the Hound was active in Alexandria, but I had not myself seen it before this."

Slowly, he begins to gather himself and get to his feet, and finally focuses on the statue in his hand. "That is strange," he murmurs.

Serene does pause two steps towards her task when she hears her name, and turns and looks. "Aya." The name weighs heavily as the paladin looks at the mul pugilist, then she gestures towards the gathered people with her chin. "If you would lend what assistance you can, I have some questions to ask you when I am finished." The words indicate it's option, entirely Aya's choice. But to those who know Serene, there's also an assumption there that her request will be heeded as she moves amidst those who remain of the afflicted to see there is any assistance she can give them.

Zeke blinks at Seldan and looks at his injuries. He nods once to Serene, and his eyes flicker around briefly to see if anyone other than his kin is injured before he determines quite readily that the main injuries suffered were suffered by Serene and Seldan. "Thisss one would heal you firssst kin. Your sssnout... nossse isss broken." He moves toward the other man and prepares to help when he notices the statue. "It issss... interessting? You may be deliriousssss Ssseldan. Let thisss one heal you?"

Dirk looks up as Aya arrives on the scene. His eyes get wide, and he rises to his feet, taking the pipe from his mouth. "Wait a -tick-," he growls. He points the stem at Aya, trundling over towards her. "You... ye sure -look- like that lass who was here the -last- time!" His eyes narrow. "Why've ye come back? Come tae finish the job, have ye?"

Cor'lana remains close to Telamon, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it as she looks up at him with that warm and reassuring smile. It's a look that says, 'Everything is fine, and everything will be fine.'

She looks back to the group and looks more intently at the statue that Seldan's indicated. "Oh, Sir Seldan has a point," she says. "That statue looked different before when it was on the lady's belt--"

And then there's Dirk's accusations. Cor'lana grimaces a little. "Dirk, that's madame Aya," she says. "She's a nice lady. Aryia's sister, too."

Aya blinks owlishly as she takes in the aftermath, Cor'lana's assurance to her (and some of her words to Telamon), then Serene's ... 'request.' "I ..." Am not a Sunguard, Seer, Silverguard, nor anything of the sort. Am not a healer. "I will do what I can." Turning to see whom might in need of aid not requiring any measure of medical assistance, she finds herself facing Dirk's accusation. And pieces fall together with certainty.

Her initial reaction is a collection of Yrrch expletives. Yrrch is just so much more ... vehement and expressive in such cases. Her fists clench a moment, then release. "That was NOT me."

Telamon seems to untense a bit at that smile, and he looks to the others. "Is it the same as those gods-awful statues we've been chasing in relation to the Nightmare? How is it different?" His voice is curious, inquisitive.

However, when Dirk gets a bit... pointy in regards to Aya, Tel's face becomes stern. "That is -quite- enough. I was -there- when Aya was..." He pauses for the best word. "Reclaimed? Through the efforts of her sister Aryia, and Jinks, and Mourner Verna, and yes, even Archmage Mikilos." He looks sour. "Do not be surprised that such creatures such as demons would delight in mistaken identities or confusion. Even if no one is hurt, it is a petty, cheap insult that cannot be easily answered."

A very slight smile from Seldan, and his eyes go briefly far away, then return. "As you will, kin, but I would have you see to Serene as well, does she will it. The demon dropped hellfire upon us, ere she was banished." He settles back to let Zeke do his thing, knowing that him trying to straighten his own nose is unlikely to be done correctly.

"Peace, Telamon. It is even so, Mistress Aya has a demon doppelganger. A moment, and I will explain, but was the statue not green when it was wrested from her?"

GAME: Zeke rolls heal: (5)+16: 21

Dirk boggles a bit at all the tallfolk talking down at him. He looks from Cor'lana, to Telamon, then to Seldan, before turning a squinty-eyed gaze on Aya. "Hrmph!" His beard bristles a bit as he looks her up and down. But he relents, relaxing himself. He reaches up to doff his tricorne, giving her a bow of his head. "I meant nae offense, missus," he says. "But... the resemblance is -uncanny-. An' the things she done..." He sets his hat back atop his head, harrumphing again. "Well. If these other good folk will vouch fer ye, that's enough fer me, I'll warrant. Anyroad.... sorry."

Zeke takes careful hold of Seldan's face, his green eyes set in contemplation. Moving his crystal hand and fingers with ultimate care. He does not even scratch the other man with his claws though it would have been easy to do so. He hums low in his throat and waits for Seldan to take a breath... And SNAP!

He sets the bone in the proper place and then settles a healing spell upon the other man to take away his pain. A true healing spell, to mend the bone properly and mend whatever other aches the man is hiding. "There." He seems satisfied, and nods to Seldan. "Thisss one will sssee to Serene nessxt."

His eyes flicker to Dirk. "Thisss one undersstandsss your reluctanssce. Aya isss..." He glances toward Aya. "Oft missstaken for a demon, asss the demon did look like her exactly for a time. It isss asss the man there sssaysss. It revelsss in making othersss hurt even in sssmall wayss." He motions toward Telamon in his explanation and then moves slightly away to give Seldan room.

GAME: Zeke casts Heal. Caster Level: 14 DC: 20

Aya exhales a breath as she steps to aid a fallen, yet (hopefully) otherwise uninjured shopper to their feet. Aid that is waved away before the man finds energy to regain his feet on his own. She is mul'niessa afterall... and the events just witnessed might add some -small- bias in addition. She winces at the snapping sound as she turns back to the others, beginning with Dirk. "You have every reason to be wary. I do not fault you for it. While it is not me," she refuses to engender it, "it may as well be in nearly every respect. In the end, its presence here is my own doing."

Cor'lana looks between Aya and Dirk for a moment before she shakes her head. "There's nothing we can do to change the past," she says. "We have to keep moving forward or nothing else will ever get done."

She does wince in sympathy for poor Seldan, and she looks over at him and Zeke for a moment. "Remind me to never break a bone if I can help it," she says. "Getting my head drained of all thought was bad enough..."

The sorceress mutters for a moment before she looks back at the statue again. "Yes, I think Telamon can talk more about the statues?"

Seldan makes a strangled noise of pain as the bone snaps into place. That _definitely_ didn't feel good, but it doesn't last long, as the healing spell that follows numbs it and fills him with renewed vigor. It lessens the reddening and burns on his skin, and stops the bleeding. "My thanks, kin." The voice sounds much more like Seldan, and less off. Although the Myrrish lilt is still present, it is somewhat lessened. "Do not doubt that Mistress Aya still has things for which she must answer," he tells Dirk, sitting up as if to get to his feet.

Telamon rocks his hand back and forth. "Somewhat. The statues are... it's complicated." His eyebrows come together in thought. "I don't recall any of them changing appearance before, though. Which is why I wonder if this is something else entirely."

He flinches as well at the sight and sound of Seldan getting his nose straightened. Even with magical healing, that looked and sounded unpleasant. "We all have things to answer for, eventually. But in the meantime... take heart in the victories we accrue."

Zeke is scanning for Serene but when he notices that Seldan is trying to make his way to his feet he sighs a breath and offers his flesh-and-blood hand to his kin. "Ssslowly kin. You are only resscently healed. Do not forget that." As if one could easily forget having ones nose broken or 'rebroken' so easily. "Thisss one reccomendss that thisss one take you home asss sssoon ass isss posssible. You need ressst."

This is offered a bit firmly, but not without obvious care.

Dirk gives Aya final nod before lumbering back to his seat. He settles himself down with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "This is surely the end o' times," he mutters, lifting his pipe to puff steadily at it. He looks up just in time to see Seldan getting his nose set. The old dwarf winces, shrinking back in his seat. Dwarves have big noses, so they're a sensitive subject for them. "Errsh. That must've hurt," he mutters. He looks around at all the tallfolk, speaking of great and weighty affairs. Ventures into the very Nine Hells after this wicked demon. And here he is, a simple woodsman, in the company of heroes. He casts his gaze down, letting loose a gust of pipe smoke with a soft sigh. "Dana's teats, what'm I -doin'- here? I'm nae hero," he mutters.

Serene returns. Truth to tell, Ravenstongue and Dirk had done an excellent job with defending the unturned from the turned.. and in keeping their efforts non-lethal in regards to the afflicted as well. But Serene had to be sure. And so she missed the brief flare up of suspicion direct at Aya, at her moment of frustration. The unsettling resetting of Seldan's nose. And if she moves a bit more slowly than she normally does.. well, there was that explosion. Thankfully, the darker shade of her skin helps hide some of the hurts she took. "Those creatures do enjoy petty taunts.. but often they hide purpose behind it." So maybe she'd heard some of it. "Aya, when you are free," Ie. The sooner the better and make time for this please. "I would have you tell me what the link between you and this creature is. Perhaps you have told others. I will need to know as well. This link between the creature and these werewolves seems no coincidence as well. There is a plague upon us that needs be arrested."

"You're... Well, you're doing your best, Dirk," Cor'lana says with a smile. "Trust me, I was in your shoes a year ago. I showed up at a meeting because there was free food and Pothy's a glutton, and it turns out they were discussing how to resurrect a /god/. I was scared out of my mind."

She looks at Telamon with a little grin. "Truth be told, I still feel like I'm in over my head from time to time--but it's easier to handle when you've got people you can lean on."

"I have not forgotten, kin." Seldan blinks in surprise at the offer of the clawed hand for just a moment, then takes it and allows the sith-makar to help him to his feet. "It was in my mind to return us to Mal, when we are finished here. Will you return with me?"

He turns and studies the statue again with narrowed eyes, and looks up. "Serene. Let Zeke aid you. There is a mystery to solve, for the statue does not stink of evil. It has - changed in some way, and how, I know not."

He turns next to Dirk, and his entire expression softens sympathetically. "Nor was I," he answer the khazad quietly. "Perhaps Zeke will share with you the tale of how we first came to meet. I was no hero. I was but there when the need called, and I acted. It is still so. You need not be a hero, to accomplish great things. You need but act, when the need calls."

Telamon nods to Cor'lana gently. "It's always easier when you have friends to help out." He looks thoughtful. "I need to talk to Dolan about this. He... may have some insights. Or that oh-so-clever lieutenant, the one who doesn't talk much."

He rubs his chin, and smiles at Dirk sympathetically. "In the tales that mattered, people just seem to fall into them along the way. Very few of us set out to be 'heroes'... but some day you may wake up with that sobriquet hung around your neck like a medal."

Zeke nods at Seldan's question. Silently answering it and then his eyes light upon Serene and he looks at her firmly. "Thisss one can provide you with healing ssshould you allow it Ssserene." It will not be the first time that he has done so for the woman, but Zeke does not heal others without their consent. Every. Time. He moves toward her though, offering his crystal claw to her. "You like Ssseldan are in need of ressst regardlesss."

This talk of heroes... he says nothing on. He himself is no hero, neither a great one, nor a small one. Only a healer.

"But act wisely," Aya offers to Dirk in addition; not smugly, but... cautiously. Amidst talk of a particular demon, the mention of statues and werewolves only now fully registers and she looks sharply to Seldan and his statuary. "Seldan, is that... are you... calm?" True, it does not resemble what little experience she has with werewolf-related iconography, but ... she eyes him with some concern.

She does not ignore Serene's request, though still keeps one eye upon the other Silverguard. "I am at your disposal. I do not know all of the fiend, but will share what I do. It is, or was, a powerful lieutenant of Eclavdran. As was I... though not powerful enough for his liking, I suppose."

Dirk glances up at the others and manages a weak smile. "Kind of ye all tae say," he says. "Me mum an' da raised me up tae help others when I can. Tae never stand by an' do nothin'. I just want it all tae be useful." He snorts a chuckle. "When I was a wee beardling, I'd dream o' bein' a grand hero, just like in all the ol' clan-songs. Even though we Stormgrips are a black sheep clan. We've always been overdwellers. Walkin' the wood. Livin' from the green land's bounty. We're never welcomed in the mountain halls unless we bring fur or leather to trade. But... all boys have their dreams, nae matter where they come from, eh?"

"Few people truly understand what a hero is," is Serene's contribution to that part of the conversation. "If they did they would realize they walk amongst them every day." Well, okay. So she has an opinion, just like everyone else. Zeke's approach draws a look; the words 'I am fine' are obviously on the tip of her tongue. But she relents after a moment, giving him a nod. Maybe to set an example. Maybe to follow an example. And while she waits patiently for Zeke do put his skills to work, she listens to Aya. Pushing pieces around in her mind. "That is a start, Aya. I wish to hear everything you can tell me." Once again her attention is brought to the statue.

"Well, what you did saved a lot of people here today, Dirk. I'd rest easy tonight knowing your shot was what saved a lot of people. I can go home with Tel, for instance," Cor'lana says with a smile.

Pothy looks at Cor'lana with a long, long look, before he makes a noise that's not too far off from a cat hacking up--which gets Cor'lana's hand wrapped around his beak for a moment as she smiles politely--although there's a twitch of her eye that tells its own story.

She looks to the statue. "Should we have that brought to Dolan, then? Or should Seldan keep it?" she wonders.

Telamon shakes his head at Lana. "If it's not safe with Seldan, I'm not sure where it -would- be safe. The nature of these things is... unpleasant. If he finds himself suffering nightmares, though, he should seek assistance at the temples."

He smirks at Pothy getting stifled by Cor'lana, and he comments, "I told you that big mouth would get you in trouble, Pothy." Chuckling, as he returns his gaze to Dirk. "That's all that's necessary, friend. Do the right thing, help others."

"If there be one who knows more of them -" Seldan looks between Telamon and Cor'lana. "I shall do as you suggest. These are associated to the Hound, and nightmares would make sense. I shall seek the Seers, do I find myself in difficulty. Magical nightmares are quite unpleasant." A shudder ripples through him, and he goes to gather his hat.

Reunion, when picked up, pipes up in the voice of a crotchety old man. "Are you leaving yet, Seldan? You've well and truly blown your cover, you know. You heard the Council flunky, you really better leave before they find you."

Dirk puffs thoughtfully for a long space, his gaze growing distant. In some distant memory, he remembers. Running through the trees with his friends, pretending to be heroes from the old legends. A gentle smile creases his features. "Aye," he says at length. "Do the right thing." He rises to his feet, upending his pipe and knocking the ashes from the bowl, before tucking it into his hip satchel. He gathers up his goods and stows them in the cart. Lumbering around, he unstraps his pony's feed bag. He eyes the inside, before looking over to Cor'lana. He whistles sharply through his teeth. "Oy! Pothy!" He upends the bag, letting the last few grains of oats that Thistle couldn't get to scatter onto the cobbles. "Snacks!" Chuckling softly, he tosses the bag into the cart and clambers up onto the buckboard. "I best be gettin' on back. But if you all need me, I'm sure I can wring another lucky shot out o' me thunderbelcher." He tips his tricorne to the others. "Green Lady guard ye, friends!" He gives the reins a snap. "Gee-yup!" With a serene whicker, Thistle starts clop-clopping down the way, pulling the old dwarf's cart after him. After a time, he can be heard striking up an old merry tune. His good spirits rekindled by his comrades' faith in him. All it took was a lucky shot.

Zeke moves toward Serene, expending another healing spell to cure what ails her. With that done he turns toward Seldan, nodding at Reunions' words and making his way slowly back to the paladin. "Your sssword isss right Sseldan. We mussst return to Malik. Thisss one will go with you. Thisss one hasss no desssire to be quesstioned by the sssoft-ssskin athoritiesss."

Aya approaches Serene as more is requested, though does so obliquely to Zeke so that she does not do so approach from nor stand behind Zeke. "I swore to serve him on pain of the Wild Hunt, he accepted. He..." an involuntary shudder runs through her at even vague, nebulous recollections. "I do not know what he did, and I do not know what transpired after. Only that my soul was retrieved from the Halls of the dead by my sister and restored to my body, ejecting the fiend that was within it. It did not take kindly to this, and has tormented me since. It knows what I knew, does what I could or can do, and often takes my form or nearly so. Neither is it pleased that Eclavdran is no more," she looks to Seldan with no small amount of gratitude, "thanks to the Silverguard I was told."

Cor'lana smiles as Dirk leaves with a spring in his metaphorical step. With the conversation turning to leaving, she looks up at Telamon, too, squeezing his hand. "I think that's a good sign we should probably get going too, huh. Back home? Dinner out? I'm up for whatever, really."

Oh, you know, just survived an explosion and saw a demon getting killed, let's go get dinner. Pothy even does a bit of a double-take at that one. But there's a sparkle in his blue eyes as he tries to weight the factors here... Snacks at home? Or dinner out? Snacks at home? Dinner out...?

Pothy panics. How can he possibly choose? "FOOD!" he says, a little loudly, in his mistress's voice.

Cor'lana blinks a few times. "Sheesh, Pothy, lower your volume," she complains.

Telamon hmms. "Home first, to tidy up. Then dinner out, I think. Whenever there is a victory, rejoice." He squeezes her hand back, raising it his lips. "It's important to be happy whenever you can."

At Pothy's slightly dyspeptic outburst, though, he snickers. "Never change, birdbrain." He reaches over to pet the white raven, before leading Cor'lana out of the market square, raising his hand in farewell to the others as he paces off arm in arm with his beloved.

While the others speak, Seldan is finishing gathering his belongings, although the easel is shattered into splinters by the force of the explosion. He says nothing to the sword in response, only pulling its sheath from the knapsack, cleaning and sheathing it, and shoving it back into the knapsack. The hat, he re-dons, and speaks a word - and the scraggly street girl returns, tunic, skirt and all.

She picks up the knapsack and looks innocently at Zeke, then towards the north gate.

Serene tilts her head, a thank you, towards Zeke, her shoulders straightening a little bit as his healing magic does his work. Unfortunately for her, there are certain things even the potent magic of an experienced healer can't touch. Then, as the Sunguard the other Silverguard depart, Seldan donning what she realizes now was his disguise, she watches them until they disappear. "It seems it remains to me to explain to the authorities what has transpired here." She turns her gaze back to Aya. "If you would do me the favor of meeting me two hours hence, in the gardens, I wish to hear this in detail. What led to it. What you remember of your time of service. Of this other creature that masquerades as you. But for now.. it is perhaps best you are not here when the authorities arrive to investigate."

-End