The Hunter And the Hunted

The evening has drawn on, and evensong is done. Having attended to his business here in Alexandria, Seldan finds himself running behind, and he strides now quickly for the northern gate, his gate near an all-out run. Knowing full well that he has likely missed the closing of the gate, he nonetheless makes haste in full if toned-down armor and armament. He does not seem to mind this time, but it does mean that he is far from silent.

That Seldan has returned isn't exactly a secret, of course, though he might notice that some people seem to just have a hard time noticing him. It's perhaps an after effect of carrying the Veil, or their favor. r

Soon, a figure is on its way towards him, however. Maybe they've been looking for him. Human, dressed nicely. He's clearly someone on official business, and given the wary looks around he's taking, uncomfortable and anxious.

"Sir Seldan," he offers, "I'm glad you've returned safely to us."

Seldan slows to a stop, a sheen on his forehead by the light of the manalamps indicating a run that is not short. Seeing the human figure, well-dressed, instantly has his attention, and he promptly and politely bows low. "Her light upon your path, my lord, but it is in my mind that you have the advantage of me. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" He stands straight and tall, a touch pillar-like, but his gaze level, sober, and open. And polite. Very polite.

"I am Lokas Tempy, humble servant of Lady Rawyn Telenil and representative of the Council and humble agent of the Guild."

He clears his throat, gently, "You've been difficult to find, perhaps more difficult than you realize. The Llyranessi are here and on the active search for you, even if they're not entirely sure who they're looking for. So far, we've been able to stall them considerably, but we need to know ourselves what's happened. There's been quite the political firestorm since the fall of the Veil."

_Ah._ Something in Seldan's shoulders relaxes, and that pillar-like look melts away as he bows again. "My time is yours, and I shall share as much as I know as is safe to speak of, Master Tempy, but it is in my mind that here is not the place for a conversation of such a nature. Can you recommend a better?" He pauses a moment and speaks a word in the sibilant sildanyari tongue, and his armor melts away beneath the robe into a simple shirt and trousers, with the same weapon belt and robe atop it.

"Yes, we'll go someplace quieter," he remarks, smiling.

"Wherever you're comfortable, truly. A man such as yourself has been through no end of traps by answering a stranger's behest. Lead the way." He gestures abroad.

"The Council has been playing a delaying game with the diplomatic delegation, but they're actively hunting for you. We need to know how we can back you. Tell us what you need."

"Very well." Seldan looks around gardens that are by now nearly deserted, and finally settles for a small alcove, away from the statues and the manalamps, a quiet corner of the garden. Perhaps less secluded than one might initially expect, but there is something to be said for traps from strangers.

Once he has settled on the bench, he begins. "I know not how this shall be spun, but the truth is that the Veil did not fall. The Veil of Llyranost is an intelligent being, and she chose to abandon Llyranost. Yes, I took her, at her behest, for to imprison an intelligent being, be they flesh or spirit, to serve one's own agenda is evil in the extreme."

He gestures that the official should sit as well. "She hid me, and that is why I was so difficult to find. Llyranost is in a pickle of its own making, Master Tempy. I have heard it described as spoilt children throwing a tantrum over the loss of a favorite blanket, and that image is not far from the truth."

"...oh boy," is the response from Lokas, shoulders slumping. This got a lot more complicated, it sounds like.

"...while any number of adventurers can be irresponsible or cavalier with doing what they 'think is right', we did not believe that this was one of those cases, no. Our efforts to help stabilize the area bought us some time, but the elves are ... displeased, to put it mildly, and they're howling for you and your allies to be placed in custody. We've declined. We have no interest in doing what they want. What this means, however, is that there's no clean or easy solution."

"No, there is not," Seldan agrees simply. "I did not expect that they would be pleased, but consider you this. You are aware of the warlord in Charn, are you not?" He does not bother to name the Griever, and holds up a hand. "It is well that he not be named, for he holds an artifact that allows him to see the truth of all that he looks at. My purpose is to stop him. With such an artifact in hand, subterfuge has no effect upon him, and he is both ruthless and evil in purging his ranks of any whose loyalty is false."

A deep breath, and he continues. "His intent is believed to be to conquer the world entire, and it may be that in abandoning Llyranost, she has given it a fighting chance. The Veil herself is formed of Eluna's will and Animus' spirit, and she is dying. She will not hold forever. Do they continue to hide behind her, until the world entire is conquered, and the spirit passes away, what chance to they then stand?"

"We've heard troubling omens from Charn, yes. So how do we help?"

That's his next question, of course. "The timing of the wights coming over the mountains couldn't be worse," he groans, putting a hand over his face.

Telamon has left.

Seldan's gaze remains sober, level, and serious. "Remind Llyranost that seeking revenge, or justice as they may choose to term it, will avail them naught," he answers simply. "For the Veil desired to leave them. She will not return as readily as they believe. Instead, they must now face the truth that is, that both Dragonier and Charn move, and do they focus on such pettiness as myself," here, there is a very small smile, "they will not survive. Instead, bid them stand with the peoples of Aeryth in facing the twin threats. The warlord is mine, and I shall aid you against the wights as I may."

"...they won't like hearing that," he remarks with a wry tone, "but it's the least we can do."

He rubs his face. "What did you do with the Veil? I get he sense it's not coming back, but..."

"As far as I can tell, Master Tempy, I am her vessel." It is interesting that Seldan continues to refer to the Veil, not as an _it_, but as a _her_. "She protects many souls right now, and I know not if she hears me, but-" His features suddenly take a far-off look.

_Can you hear me?_ he asks, inside his own mind, directed at her. _How shall I explain?_

There is no answer. Seems she's distracted -- but one can sense that he's still under their protection to some extent. Still, no answer... yet.

"I seer, this is ... hm."

He rubs his face. A lot. It's a lot.

Presently, Seldan shakes his head, and returns to the present, but does not seem displeased. "She does not answer, but she is yet there. I believe her to be distracted. I do not wish to waste your time, Master Tempy, and yet some of my tale may help you to mollify the llyranesi, or at the least, shame them into, at worst, merely returning whence they came, and at best, aiding you."

"I think we're well beyond 'mollification'," remarks Lokas Tempy with a sigh. "The Council will want to see you at some point. Just remember: we do have your back here. It's the least we can do. We'll keep running interference and slow things down as much as we can, but know that they are here and they are hunting you."

"I am at the Council's disposal, and I am grateful for the warning, and for the support," Seldan's eyes lower, and close, and he lets out a long breath. "I shall walk quietly, and remain here as little as I may. With that said - there is a thing that I would have the Council be aware of. One of the Guildmembers has a doppelganger within the city walls. This doppelganger is a demon servant of the destroyed Eclavdran. She stalks several people, and is not lightly to be trifled with. I can slay her here, but I would know how she got here at all. It may well be that Eclavdran yet has a cult of followers within the city walls."

He shakes his head quickly. "I cannot aid them, or stop her, if I am discovered, nor can I stop the Griever. I shall be wary, and scarce, but I would have a way that you might leave me a sign when the Council summons me."

"With t he wards, an impressive feat. I'm not familiar with the case, but I can look into it and see what's already known to us, and go from there."

He nods. Seldan asked, he'll try to help.

"Few are, and I myself learned of it less than a week past." Seldan, in turn, scrubs at his own face wearily. "You have my thanks, Master Tempy. In truth had I thought myself of little consequence and fewer in friends. I ask your, and the Council's, forgiveness for creating a difficult situation."

"...you did what you had to do," remarks Lorkas after a moments thought. "I think we're good here, for the moment. We'll have more questions. You may get a chance to confront the Delegation." He extends his hand over to him to shake.

Seldan reaches to take the hand, pauses a moment, and smiles apologetically as he pulls a gauntlet off and sets it aside before shaking the hand firmly. Although the rest of the apparent attire remains intact, the gauntlet is clear for what it is - a finely crafted thing of magic. "I shall be at your disposal, and if it is in the best interests of Alexandria that I be offered that opportunity, then I shall accept. For now, Her light upon your path."