Painting Prospects

A heavy rain and dark clouds precludes the use of the Observatory this evening, and so, the place is mostly quiet. The patter of rain on the protective covering above adds a soothing background noise to the place.

A small table, with a couple of comfortable wicker chairs around it, has been set near the collection of scrolls. A teapot, covered in a woolen tea cosy, sits in the middle, with a few teacups awaiting use. In one of the chairs, fast asleep, is Simony. A small map of a corner of the cosmos above is unrolled in her lap.

A light snore echoes out, just barely heard above the patter of rain.

It's definitely not a night to be out and about. Telamon had been chased in by the storm, and while he might be inured to the cold he really hates being soaked to the skin. And so he slips inside, checking the rooms, and pausing when he hears the snore. Quietly, he peers in, and blinks at Simony, before grinning.

Softly, he pads in, and carefully removes the map from her lap, making sure there's nothing she might flail at or knock over, before gently touching her shoulder. "Hey there, Simony," the half-elf says with a smile. "Catching up on your sleep?"

She comes awake at the shake, a sharp intake of breath followed by saucer-sized eyes. Recognition quickly fills her expression, and she hops up to hug at the Half-Sil. "Hi Telamon! Sleep? Oh no, I was uh just listening to the patter of rain above, and the soft step of a certain man with fireflies in his eyes." Simony knows she was caught, and simply winks.

"I must have fallen asleep because it's rather soothing in here. I was waiting for the tea to cool a little, so I was looking..." There's momentary panic in her eyes before she spots the map in Tel's hand. "At one of the starmaps."

Telamon gives Simony a hug in return, before giving the map back. "It is rather soothing. Although I have a bad feeling it's not going to let up soon. Getting home is going to be a hassle -- can't teleport this close to the city." Tel's expression is wry. "I mean, I do have my gyroparasol, but it's seriously coming down out there. I think I might wait and see if it calms down a touch."

His eyes are quizzical, and in them can be seen that glow of distant stars. "Looking for anything in particular? I don't mean to pry, but I wouldn't mind helping."

"I was hoping I'd find you here actually. Just to talk. You've been the most helpful, and friendly, ... uppity ups that I've run into." Her cheeks colour slightly. "I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just that ... never mind, just idle chatter." Rubbing at her cheeks, the Gobbo lets out a slow breath. "So uh, the Chalice has a lot of knowledge under its roof, doesn't it?", she wonders. "And uhm, you're welcome to sleep in the chair, as uncomfortable as that is.. and you're welcome to some tea, too!" Simony steps over to the table, lifting the teapot to pour a deep red liquid into two teacups.

His eyes slide around the room for a minute, and one might get the impression he's seeing -everything-, no matter the lighting in here. "Uppity... oh. The gentry and nobility." Telamon laughs quietly. "Well, I get that sometimes. I know I'm something of an outlier in the ranks of adventurers -- my idea of 'roughing it' is no tea. But I'd like to think I'm a friend to anyone who needs one."

He takes a seat in one of the wicker chairs. "Well, when you say 'knowledge', I don't know how codified it is. It's a social club, crossed with a research group, and heavily invested with the 'uppity-ups', you might say. You get someone like me, or Master Turow, who can give extensive lectures on arcane theory." He rolls his eyes. "And -then- you get some popinjay who asks about 'love potions' and thinks dream-walking techniques are only good for having good dreams."

She grins broadly at the man. "You can see in this light, hmm?", she wonders. "Is there anything you can't do? Except maybe touch your elbow to your nose?" Simony nods to him as he speaks on the uppity ups. "Yes, gentry and nobility. I see you as one of them, except one of higher character, better judgement, and one likely to put their money where their mouth is."

She walks around the table to set a saucer and teacup before him, "Do you take anything in your tea? It's uhm, they call it gunpowder tea? It's black tea. Pretty strong, but should help with wakefulness in the quiet places like this."

She snorts and giggles. "Love potions... bleh. People are so silly and superstitious sometimes. Uhm. Do you accept people like me in the club? I'm really interested in the research aspect of it. I am horrible at anything social, however."

Telamon raises his eyebrows. "As a matter of fact, yes. My... talent has some interesting tricks, and one of them is that I see perfectly in darkness. I guess this is what it's like to have darkvision? It's very different." Settling back in his chair, he nods. "Well... if you're not comfortable being around gentry or nobility, I can't recommend it. I can deal with it, but Lana took some time to get used to it -- she's not a member but the Chalice accords her respect since she's my wife."

He accepts the tea, and he grins. "I'll try anything once. Though there are some things I think should -only- be tried once. Like kir'kagal bloodworms." He makes a disgusted face, before taking a sip of the tea.

"That -is- strong. Is it tea, or is it coffee that got lost on the way to the coffeepot?" Tel grins at Simony, before continuing. "I mean, here's the thing... a lot of the Chalice members come from money. Either nobility, or upper-class merchants and gentry. And it's -all- sorcerers. A number of different bloodlines and aspects, but there's that thread that runs through it." He furrows his brow. "Hmm. Maybe we can arrange for a provisional membership -- I think there's an allowance in the charter for that. Let me talk to Master Stiger and Mistress Julica, and see what they think."

"It is very different than normal vision. And I suppose it is greatly different from what Sildanyari and Khazad have, too?" The Goblin's pupils suddenly dilate to an extent that the iris is almost swallowed up by the pupil. She glances around, and then peers at Telamon. "Hmm, subtle differences in how you appear, I've never really put a lot of thought into it. Perhaps I will study this."

"I am willing to try a provisional membership, and brave the slings and arrows of the gentry and nobility, for the chance at greater research possibilities. I am grateful for your support. I am in your debt."

A saucer piled high with sugar cubes is fetched from the other side of the table, a tiny pair of tongs taking up one of the delicate cubes. "One sugar cube should take the worst of the bitterness away, if you wished to try?"

"Well, the khazadi have darkvision as well, but the sil's eyesight is more suited for moonlight and starlight." Telamon's dark eyes glint merrily. "Not many elves live underground, after all -- though the mul'niessa have darkvision, which raises some questions as to where some started out." He shrugs. "Honestly, it's not a question I'd ask lightly."

He accepts the sugar cube into his tea, nodding. "Some things really do need sweetening to counterbalance them. It depends on one's tastes." He takes another sip, and nods. "Then I'll take a look at it. Of the major 'players' in the Chalice, Stiger is probably going to be the hardest sell. Turow ... well, Turow is happy to have anyone who stands still long enough for him to talk shop with. Daneira is... odd, but generally accepting. So I'll work on the good count, and with any luck it'll get you in the door."

"I would be willing to broach the topic with a Mul'niessa, delicately of course. It would be an academic interest and we'd dance carefully around any uhm mention of ill tidings, Taara, Charn and so on. Circumspect." The Gobbo holds up a hand, and wiggles it back and forth. "It is interesting, now, to me."

She leaves the saucer of cubes near Telamon, the tiny tongs arranged within easy reach. Simony moves back to her chair, and moves it closer to Telamon. Settling back in, she carefully rolls the map up, and sets it on the table, far from potential teacup spills.

"Don't spend too much on it, please? I would really like to join and I will work really hard if I am allowed in. But I don't want you owing too much, you know? I know how..." The Gobbo gestures with a pale hand. "I know how these games can go..."

Telamon hehs. "I'd prefer to ask while hiding behind a wall of force. As I've joked before, I'm a fool, not an idiot." He takes another sip of tea. "Having been to Charn once... eh. Once was enough. We had to sneak in to kill a demon hiding there. That was... stressful. It could've been worse though."

He tilts his head at Simony. "But what's the point of power and influence if I can't use it to help my friends? I feel the same way about magic. Why bother gaining magical power if you're not going to do good things with it?" He chuckles. "Which, I might add, is why I also give lectures on ethics at the University..."

The Goblin shrugs. "I like to think that I appear unassuming enough that questions would be taken at face value. I point out that I would only ask Mul'niessa that are familiar with me. I would stay away from strangers."

"Oh? You went all the way to Charn to kill a demon? Goodness... when did you do this? You all got out alive, yes?"

She peers at him intently then, and nods. "I am wary of the intangibles. I have a better time asking you for something solid, a physical thing... a cookie, or some gold. Or to borrow, say, some garden tool. I am perfectly willing to owe you, gold, or say, my life. These are knowable things. I would owe you a favour, but I would be wary about doing such. I trust you. But a favour can be ... open ended. Your character is unquestionable. But I am unable to say the same for all those in the Chalice, I do not know them. I dislike the feeling of you possibly owing someone an intangible thing, in my stead."

Telamon lifts an eyebrow. "Yes. It had tormented Aya and Aryia, and at one point tried to strangle me. Lana killed it. And good riddance." He grins tightly. "I have been in more dangerous situations, but... well, let's just say there weren't many of those."

His eyes meet Simony's. "I'm not sure I follow the reasoning. I'm not asking for a favor." He puts on a slightly humorous mien, and states in a rather posh tone, "I am simply trying to increase the sum of knowledge in the Chalice by inviting an alternate viewpoint. Who could -possibly- disagree with that?"

Her expression is full of concern. "Goodness. You certainly do get into a lot of scrapes, don't you? I am happy to see that you escaped unscathed, or at least, your injuries were quickly reparable?" Simony smiles. "You and Cor'lana make a good team, er, well, I suppose there were others too? Two people by themselves in Charn sounds far more dangerous than you would risk, I think. Aya and Aryia went also?"

She raises a finger and opens her mouth to say something, but it closes. Her eyes slowly go crossed-eyed as he speaks of inviting alternative viewpoints in a voice that makes her laugh shortly afterwards. "You know what I mean, though, right? It is a uhm... horse trade? Something will come along later that you'll feel obligated to allow, because there I am." Simony lets out a breath. "So aside from finagling the rules... what does it cost to join?"

Telamon shrugs. "'The life', as the oruch say. Can't be an adventurer without getting into some scrapes. I've seen things people wouldn't believe -- hell, I've seen things I'm not even sure -I- believe." He runs a hand through his hair. "But yes, I've been lucky. Or good. Maybe a little of both. I try not to rely on luck, myself -- yes, I know, Tarien laughs, but I'll always try to stack the deck in my favor."

"But yes. Aya, Aryia, myself, Lana, Sir Seldan, and Critias. We were there to kill it, and make sure it stayed dead." He smiles a bit. "Honestly, not my favorite thing -- I'd rather save people, rather than assassinate demons."

Tel takes a pull off his teacup. "Obligation? Look, if you want to trade... hm. Alright. I will smooth the path to a provisional membership in exchange for you doing a painting of myself and Lana. That seems fair, hm?" He nods. "There is an entrance fee, though it's not onerous for provisionals. It gets expensive when you pursue full membership since you're expected to contribute to the coffers for supplies." Tel rolls his eyes. "After all, pickled mountain oysters don't grow on trees."

"Djovo!", she says with a wide-eyed look. "Does... Cor'lana know how lucky she is? Even if she does, you should remind her again." Simony winks and then laughs. "I did not expect you to know Yrch-speak, let along inform on the life. We all share something with the Oruch in that." The Gobbo chuckles. "Never count on luck to save your behind, but always pat it on the back when it does."

Her expression changes, looking more somber. "Well, if it helps any, oh, also, thank you once more. But if it helps any, by killing that demon, you have saved people. No one can unwittingly fall under its influence, nor get caught up in its schemes any more. Charn cannot benefit from its presence. And I am sure it would kill you without hesitation, and indeed, by your word, it tried to do just that. If it was any easier, demons would not be the problem they are, right?"

Simony blinks at his proposition. "Fair? Maybe... I would love to. But I have an addition. An idea. I want to help with your renovations. I want... I want to paint the roof. Maybe not the entire thing, but like, the ceiling in your ballroom, or perhaps the dining room. A fresco, I think it is called."

Telamon laughs softly. "I should've warned you. I speak a number of languages, quite fluently. Yrch-speak, khazdul, draconic, lucht-speak, gnome-speak... it's stood me in good stead. It's amazing how people open up if you address them in a familiar voice." His eyes twinkle happily. "Lana actually taught me Sylvan, and handspeech, so she's no slouch either."

At Simony's point about ending the fiend, he nods. "Indeed. Still, it was a creature that had endured for who knows how many centuries. And now it is gone. There is something melancholic in that, even though I will not regret what we did. As you said, it was responsible for numerous terrible acts, and would've committed more." He shrugs. "I lose no sleep about it."

He coughs at the 'ballroom' comment. "Well, we don't have a ballroom... but a fresco across the living room ceiling, that might be nice. Lana and I will sit down with you, hammer out what we'd like to see. That way you'll be working with a complete idea on what to paint."

"Oh, well..." Simony looks a little sad. "When you say it that way, it's a tragedy. To lose the vast amount of knowledge it must have had. Damn you, Telamon, for making me mourn a demon!" Her little tongue sticks out, and she giggles, letting out a sigh after. "You constantly offer viewpoints I have not considered."

Her expression looks more upbeat as she recalls the languages. "I would learn Gnomish, Lucht and Draconic, for those ones are not yet known to me. Sylvan too. I could offer Merctalk and Gobbo-talk, in return, if that was of interest to you."

Simony then nods enthusiastically. "I have a small idea already, and I am willing to work with you both to get it just the way you like. I... I thought something that honored and spoke to your.. selves. For her, a fey landscape, forested, with fey beings abound. We could add likenesses of the fey creatures who roam the grounds and your home. For your side, I see a starscape, of wonders at great distances, a view that calls to people, invoking a feeling of yearning to explore it.. see what lies beyond."

Telamon chuckles. "That caught you off guard, eh? This is why I teach ethics, and one of my lessons is that you are responsible for every spell you cast." He shakes his head. "If you need a reason to not mourn the fiend, I would note it stole Aya's body, imprisoning her soul, and used it to commit a number of atrocities. So no, in the end, I would not mourn it much."

"Merc-talk seems like a waste, but I wouldn't mind picking up gobbo-talk. I've heard it has roots in both gnomish and yrch-speak, so it might be interesting to compare the three."

At Simony's idea, Telamon looks intrigued. "That is... a very good thought, Simony. Obviously, we need to run it past the missus, but I think she'd appreciate it as well -- I'm sure she'll have some thoughts on the matter, but it's definitely a good starting point."

"Just slightly. I mean, it's honestly a bit difficult to really feel sorry for a demon. I mean... you kind of have to be the most terrible of people to be cast down, and made into a demon, right? Someone who stole bread to feed his family isn't doomed to such a thing. Like, you really have to try very hard. That's an understatement even. But to think of all that knowledge, lost like tears in the rain."

"As for Merctalk, Warrick said it was a good language because it is very efficient for battle. The best words from many languages, and you can command people from just about anywhere, you know? But, as it may surprise you, I am quite fluent in Goblin-talk." Simony giggles lightly and then nods.

"Obviously, nothing of this magnitude happens without the missus' word. And I had hoped it sounded like a good idea. It's a laborious process, though. One I am happy to undertake, but I don't want to wear out my welcome... But for as much as I am able, I will eat, sleep and breath fresco paint while I am on the job."

"That's how I understand it," Telamon replies. "And honestly, I suspect anything constructive or useful in terms of knowledge had been discarded by the fiend in favor of 'forty four ways to flay a mortal without killing them'. Which I think we can agree didn't need to be preserved."

Tel's expression is dubious about merc-talk, but he shrugs lightly. "Might be worth looking into at least. But yes, I wouldn't mind a primer on goblin-speak. And I'll teach you in return."

Telamon reaches over to take the teapot. "In the meantime though, let's kick around some more ideas about this fresco. I'd like to present what we have to Lana without any vagueness. Will you need the pixies, or Jyndei, to sit in for sessions so you know how to paint them?" Tel grins. "To say nothing of having to bribe Pothy to sit still. Well, at least that'll be easy. Just snacks!"