The Weight of Responsibility

Lupecyll-Atlon home, early afternoon

The snow has been falling for a few days now, making for quiet streets as the drifts become unmanageable.

This does not stop Simony, who arrives at the Lupecyll-Atlon door hovering a few feet off the ground. She reaches for the bell, and then pauses, as if unsure. The Goblin is there for some time as she seems to consider and ponder something at length.

Letting out a huff of breath, she seems to make up her mind about something, and pulls on the door bell.

Who ordered all this snow? Telamon would like to have a word with them. At least it means he's indoors, working in his study, muttering to himself as he picks up a cup of tea and knocks it back. "How hard can this be?" he mumbles. Then the doorbell rings.

Tel stares at the three books on his desk, before shaking his head. "Alright. Take a break, we'll get back to this in a bit." Padding down the stairs, dressed in casual clothes and slippers, he reaches out to unlock the door, opening it to reveal... "Simony! Good to see you again! Come in, come in..."

He steps back so that the goblin priestess can make her way inside out of the cold. "I was about to put a pot of tea on and have a snack. I, ah... got a letter the other day and I've been hitting the books a bit."

The Goblin is dressed for war. When out and about, she normally wears armor, but it is hidden beneath her robes. But today, the gleaming breastplate is overtop. A burnished helm covers her bare head, and strapped to one arm is a wooden shield, reinforced with a metal rim.

Her curiosity is piqued though, with Telamon's statement. "A letter?", she wonders, stepping inside with a gait that says she is unused to the helm and shield's extra weight. "And you've had to study? What news did the letter bring?"

Telamon shuts the door firmly before locking it. "Here... mind if I take your helm and shield?" he inquires. At the question, he looks serious. "Well... here, they say a picture's worth a thousand words, but a letter can explain better than I can." He removes a folded bit of stiff parchment from his breast pocket.

The letter bears the seal and markings of the Arcanists, with a polite and formal greeting to 'the Lord Archmage Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon', requesting his assistance in restoring the anti-magical wards in the dungeons there. Compensation to be provided as well as any components or implements necessary, your dutiful servant, etc.

"I figured they'd go to Mikilos," Telamon says, a bit bashfully. "I... keep forgetting that I'm an archmage these days as well. So I requested some texts on the ward, and I believe I can restore it."

She seems hesitant at first, but nods and methodically shrugs out of both pieces of armor. Her eyebrows lower as she remove her helm, revealing her shaved head. As Telamon turns to store her helm and shield, there's a smack as Simony hops up and swats at the man's behind.

Hands on hips, she frowns at the man. "Tsk. Telamon, remember, ideal lord, be the change in nobility you want to see in the world. I would wager you are at least as powerful as Mikilos, however... how many bans and wards have you caused to be enacted and created? How many towns do you think Mikilos has founded or helped found? The answer to both questions is zero, and there's a damned good reason for that."

Simony hmmphs, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her lips begin to curl upwards at the corner, and she nods, "That is well and good, Tel. I uhm... I have been charged with dealing with the fiend. I've summoned a planar ally, and instead of payment as per the usual agreement, it wants me to gather forces and see to the fiend's end. We've gotten the full story from Jacob as to how the fiend go into his head. How a pact was formed without a written contract. Will have to figure out why this fiend wanted revenge on Aelwyn, though..."

Telamon blinks at the swat, but then laughs lightly. "Ah, my own words, come back to haunt me. So to set your mind at ease, I did say 'yes', hence my research to make sure I get it right the first time." His lips quirk. "I was tempted to add something to it -- a little illusion of myself shaking a finger and saying 'nuh-uh-uh' when someone tried to cast a spell. But I decided that might be a bit too disruptive."

Once Simony's helm and shield are hung up and Tel leads her out to the living room, he hmms. "A serious burden, but one I think you're suited to handle. What's the ally doing while you're chasing this beast down? Protecting Jacob?"

Tel tilts his head, as he puts the teakettle on, and retrieves a bag of cookies from the Cheerful Corvid. "Remember, fiends, celestials, even elementals and fey do not always operate on the same time scale as mortals do. It could be something one of Aelwyn's ancestors did, or something one of his descendants is prophecied to do."

"I asked it to find the fiend's location." She lets out a slow breath. "I thought that was the best course of action. I figured a group of us could contain and deal with it while being able to protect the city around it. A singular celestial of the power that I can muster may not be able to do that by itself. But..."

Simony sniffles. "I fear some of us may die in this battle, and I.. I am finding that hard to bear. I have made my peace with the world, Telamon, and am ready to do my duty no matter what it takes. But I feel it will be a waste if ... one of my friends die."

"Let me ask you this, Simony. Did you force any of them to join with you in this? Did they come of their own free will?" Telamon shakes his head. "Every soul is responsible for its own destiny. If they came willingly to help you, then put such thoughts out of your mind. And who knows? You might even win out. One fiend, unless it is truly powerful, will not have an easy time against such allies as you might muster."

As the teakettle rapidly heats, Telamon puts out cups, along with honey. Then the tea is poured, piquant and delicately scented, along with a plate of hazelnut chocolate cookies. "I suppose my next question is, do you need help? Bear in mind I am going to be restoring that ward, not to mention taking that trip into the Desolation soon. I fear I can't hunt with you."

"I want to ask you, but I also do not wish to. I had a feeling they would come to you for restoring the wards in the prison. And likely, you may be asked... begged even, to help recapture the more dangerous wizards that escaped. It would be selfish of me to impose that upon you, even at the best of times." The Goblin dabs at tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't want my friends to die, Telamon. Whether or not they come of their own free will, with the same zeal and enthusiasm as I can muster. I do not think I am any great leader of people. I am not hard enough. And I fear the consequences of failure here. Not just the safety of people in the city, but... my own deity will be watching. The thought of failing makes me nauseous."

"So mostly... if the worst comes to pass, and I die, I want you to have all my artwork in my room. I... am also leaving you the silver statue, to be made into a small shrine to Navos, with a little bird feeder and birdbath. And I want you to tell the Watcher thank you, for me. And ... tell the watchlings that I will keep an eye on them from the afterlife."

Telamon just looks irked. "What's the point of being an archmage if I can't help my friends? Especially in a noble endeavour?" He fixes Simony with those starry eyes. "It doesn't matter if I need to recapture those wizards. I'll deal with that like I do everything else; one step at a time."

He sits down next to Simony, putting an arm around her. "I think you're strong enough, Simony. You've striven, fallen, and gotten right back up. And that's why you're going to succeed, and live through this."

"And if you think a little thing like -death- will stop me from bringing you back here, you are -sorely- mistaken, Temperance Simony. You still have a portrait of my family to paint. You are -not- released from that task. Besides," and here he reaches down into his haversack, sitting beside the sofa, and he pulls out a small jar which he sets in front of her. "Once you've ended this fiend, you'll need this."

Simony leans into the Telamon, squeezing gently. "I'd much rather risk it by myself, but I also realistically know that the fiend is tenacious enough to best me, like, a serious threat. I... I guess I find it just better to follow than to lead. I know that death is a... possibility in all the dangerous things I do. But... it's never been my responsibility before. I do my best to keep people in fighting form, but I do that without worry. This is different. It feels so different."

"I'm going to do my best, as I always try to do. The mission will succeed, of that I have little doubt. It is whether everyone but the bad guy sees the light of the next day."She laughs, despite the new wave of tears rolling hotly down her cheeks, which she rubs at in an annoyed fashion. "That's supposed to be my line, being the cleric and all, Tel." Her eyes widen at the jar. "Erm. What is this?"

Telamon shakes his head. "There is no need to 'go it alone', Simony. This is what friends are for. We do these dangerous, terrible things, but we should never try to do them by ourselves. When I faced the Corpse-Eater, did I do so alone and unaided?" He snorts. "Gods no. Many hands make light work, remember?"

"And understand that to face down a fiend, banish it... there are much worse ways to meet one's end. Indeed, it might not -be- the end, either." He gives her a firm look. "I am proof of that." With that, he pushes a cup of tea over to Simony, as well as a cookie. "Oh, the jar? I thought you'd recognize it. Hair tonic. I mixed some up for you."

"I know I am not going to go it alone, I... I guess it';s just the burden of leadership... Being charged with a task by a servant of my deity. I've never asked Navos to notice me before. I mean, well, there's still the prayers I guess, magical motes of power in this tiny body. But nothing like hiiii, could you send me an angel, pretty please?"

The Goblin laughs, looking at the jar. She hugs at Telamon once more. "You are a wonderful friend, Telamon. I don't think I could ask for more in this life /and/ the next." She lets out a lengthy shudder and sigh. "I know it might not be the end. If I find myself passing through Vardama's halls, and I hear a call to return to this mortal realm, I would return. I still haver lots to do. But... I am also not kidding myself about the danger this particular mission entails."

Telamon wraps his arms around Simony, and hugs her in turn. "You have many things yet to do. Don't be afraid. Be strong, trust in yourself and in Navos, and what you wish done, will be done. When I found Ni'essa, and started putting my faith in her... she began putting her faith in me in turn. Focus on that. Yes, it will be hard. But I think you're up to the challenge."

"However," Telamon adds with a grin. "You might not want to use that tonic until after you've dealt with the fiend. Just in case there's fire again. This way you can celebrate afterward by growing out your hair once more."

There's a momentarily haunted look of fear at the mention of fire, and Simony shudders, nodding glumly. "That was my plan. And well, this is quite a bit more than the last time. I intend to use it sparingly, but there is a small part of me that wonders what would happen if you put it in places where you don't have hair. Would I be able to grow a mustache? A beard? Maybe a full body of hair for winter?"

That's definitely a Goblin line of inquiry.

Telamon actually looks a little nervous. Not at the mention of fire, but at the mention of growing hair in other places. "I, ah... really don't know. I didn't think to test it that far." Heck of an admission, and probably not one he'd make to anyone outside of his wife, family, or friends. "You... might want to take care, although it didn't make hair grow on your fingers when you put it on, did it?"

"Anyways!" he says, rushing on to something safer, "I expect that if I get the ward repaired, there will be more inquiries. I will find myself playing 'the great game' of politics, much to my dismay. It's good to know you'll be here to keep me well-grounded."

"The Great Game is not so great, is it?", the Gobbo wonders. "The worst thing about this whole thing, Telamon, is that if you do not play it, someone else will. One should always be wary of people who willingly desire power and to play the game. I am incredibly happy you are cautious and forget that you are more powerful than just the sum of your spells and magical powers."

Simony leans against the man, nudging him with her elbow. "You have Cor'lana to keep you grounded, and she, you. I am only here for a third opinion, and also advice where short people are concerned."

Telamon nods glumly. "I said as much to Lana when we married. There were always people who wanted to make more out of it than there was -- that it was a diplomatic marriage to help the treaty between the Mythwood and Alexandria." Tel's expression is one of disgust. "Never mind that Lana had come here not that long before I did, and was originally from Rune." He exhales. "Well, I can only play as well. We'll see how much they want me in their game."

He snorts at Simony. "Yes, Lana is always with me. But that doesn't mean we don't appreciate friends. You can't have too many of those."

The Goblin smiles brightly. "The more the merrier, I say." She nods then, and straightens. "I should be back out there, I don't know when the call will come, but I should be ready to go at a moments notice. I ... thank you for the pep talk, Telamon. It's far harder that I realized, but you've helped me so much with but a few words of encouragement."

The jar's held up. "And some future confidence."

"You're not the only one who's ever felt this way, Simony." Telamon's voice is gentle. "Gods know, I've had some times where doubt has clawed at my ankles as well. There's no simple trick to dealing with it either. All you can do is keep moving forward, keep your goal in sight and in mind." He smiles. "And just keep working for that better tomorrow."

"Now... if -I- run across this fiend, because you know that happens to me too... I will most certainly be disposing of it. Hopefully that doesn't cause you problems with your ally. But I'm not going to try and catch it. That's a bit more than I want to deal with."

"If there's anyone I would feel confident in dealing with the fiend, it's you, Telamon. I wouldn't wish you the trouble of it, but I can't say I would be mad if you disposed of it. It'd be a huge load off of my mind, as well as a sigh of relief for all those involved."

Simony straps on her helm and begins to shoulder her shield. "Well, except for the fiend." Simony giggles. "I will see you again soon, hopefully with great news and a grand story to tell."