What Else Do You Know?

Mikilos fusses around the shop, windows open to the warm spring weather, as tiny whirlwinds of magic scour the corners of the shop for grime and dust, collecting in a small pile outside the door. Not that there's much to collect, easy enough to clean even locked up in winter, when magic is involved, but Spring Cleaning goes that extra step, just to be sure.

It is right around the noon hour when a figure is visible outside the windows, a familiar one in shirt, trousers, and an open robe over it. Seeing the small pile of dust outside the door, and the open windows, Seldan cracks a small smile that quickly becomes cheerfully boyish. A gesture and a word that is well familiar to Mikilos, and the dust pile outside the door vanishes into nothingness. Only then does he step into the shop in a jangle of bells, letting the door close behind him. "Her light upon your path, Master Mithralla," he greets, fairly formally, although there is something in the way he carries himself, in the set of his features, that speaks to something on his mind. <sildanyari>

Mikilos glances up a smiles, returning the greeting. "May your path be chosen with wisdom. Here for your armor? One moment and I'll fetch it." The elf heads for the storeroom behind the counter, letting the little wisps of magic take care of themselves... not that they exactly have complex tasks to finish out before fading away. "Anything else with which I can assist while you're here?" <sildanyari>

Forward and direct, by sildanyari standards. Seldan can go with that, and he leans his elbows on the counter while Mikilos heads into the storeroom, flipping that stray lock of hair from his eyes, a lock that needs to be cut short to be fully controlled. "Yes, I am grateful that you were able to finish it so quickly. Regarding the other ... perhaps you have some time? I have learned things that may be interesting, and am in hopes that you know more." His sildanyari is not perfect, but he is improving, and is comprehensible, although he has a definite accent. <sildanyari>

Mikilos has an accent. Everyone does. Anyone who thinks they don't is just bias enough to think theirs is the 'right' accent. "Certainly. What would you like to know?" The armor is fetched quickly enough, set a few steps beyond the door, just waiting for pick up. "I don't foresee any problems, is a simple enough enchantment, but if there's anything odd or uncomfortable, let me know and we'll take care of it." Not exactly a lifetime warranty, but a policy of quality. <sildanyari>

As full plate armor is a thing most readily transported while being worn, Seldan removes the robe and sword belt and lays it on the counter, then goes over to the package, frowning as if looking for something. "There is no ... ah, of course. The enchantment would mean that padding is no longer needed, would it not?" A smile breaks out across his face, an expression of simple joy and appreciation for the wonders of magic, as he picks up the breastplate and begins to don it. He smile fades, though, as he works to put it on. There are a few pieces where he will still need assistance to fit it properly, but the smile is missing entirely when he looks up. "What can you tell me of your knowledge of a man named Menel?" <sildanyari>

Mikilos assists with more skill than might be expected by one who doesn't wear armor himself, but he does work with the stuff on a regular basis. "There's still some padding, of course. Anti-magic fields are a little too common to remove it all, but the reduction in weight should help." He frowns mildly, considering a few moments. "Human swordsman, from the northern territories, originally, I think. Was taken by the White Tower quite some time ago, was a slave for a rather long time, though very hard to be certain how long. Helped quite a few escape the Tower, including myself, before fleeing himself to die in the woods free from Her. Thankfully was able to track him and get help before he froze completely. I believe he's been staying in the temple more recently, trying to help with other victims." <sildanyari>

Seldan listens carefully, nodding, as they work together to put the armor on Seldan. It really is an incredibly fine piece of work, mithral but not blinding-shiny as mithral so often is. A coating on it makes it more opalescent, more like moonlight than sunlight in its look. At the last, his expression closes somewhat. "I see. What memories do you have of the tower, of your time there?" He hesitates. "I know this to be a painful subject, forgive me. But ... if we hope to learn more of what She is doing...." <sildanyari>

Mikilos frowns mildly, considering a few moments. "Nothing firm. Impressions, fleeting images. Stone hallways and the passage of time." He considers a few moments. "I remember Menel's eyes." He sighs. "I trust him, but from your cautious verbal circling, I take it you've learned something troubling." <sildanyari>

Seldan continues to work, piece by piece, with the patience and ease of long practice, providing access where he needs Mikilos to tighten or loosen something for him. He works in silence to put on the pauldron in his hands, but then looks up, all trace of humor - and indeed anything but concern - flying away. "Mikilos, why would She want to kill him? What does he know that leads her to corrupt minds to send after him? Twice in two days has there been an attempt on his life, by minds under Her control." <sildanyari>

Mikilos relaxes a tension he wasn't fully aware he'd built. "A great part of her power is being unknown. A mystery. He remembers Her. Much of what we've learned has come from his assistance. She's hates that. I suspect hates much of anything that isn't under her control, which is certainly a part of it." <sildanyari>

"More than remembers Her," Seldan answers. "Remembers Her tower. Something of its layout, and something of what She does, and what she may have access to. I have ... spoken with him at some length." Some of the smile comes back. "He has done much for me as well. He has spoken of things that we will need to know. Did you know that Kol is not alone, that he has created a brood?" <sildanyari>

Mikilos sighs, and shrugs. "I didn't know, but I can't say I'm surprised. I can only hope they aren't empowered by her the way he is." <sildanyari>

The armor is nearing completion as they talk, and Seldan begins to flex, to move, to test weight and range of motion before adding the last pieces, though he remains serious. "I do not know. I do know that they are as insane as he is, and that it is good to be careful. Some of his brood walk into the sunlight, they are likely the sane ones." <sildanyari>

He pauses to adjust a strap that is binding. "Master Mithralla, I ... am curious to what else you might know, that has not been shared. We must all work together, and I do not doubt that you have learned a great deal, of the plague, of the tainted cisterns, and of Her motives." <sildanyari>

Mikilos chuckles. "Sadly, I'm sure there is more I know that others do not, but I assure you it's not from some desire to hoard secrets. I'm well aware of just how many things I -don't- know. And far too often think when I do find something out, I'm amoung the last to know. No reason to go telling others, surely they've already found out... only to find later how mistaken I was." He considers a few moments. "My current concern is with Her. All else that's happened, she's either been behind it, made it worse, or indirectly influenced it. Take Her out, and the rest becomes... well, not easy, but less difficult. Sadly, killing an Immortal Fae isn't a simple task. I'm plaaning to visit the Fairy Queen of Winter, in hopes I can learn more of True Death weapons, that can slay even an Immortal. I also hope to learn of Her standing amoung the fae. Perhaps they aid her, for whatever reasons. Or perhaps they greatly wish to slay Her themselves, but have been vexed by the Tower. Perhaps they don't care. With fae, it's often impossible to guess." He considers. "If the Queen is unable, or unwilling to help, then I will meet with the mad King of Light and Illusion, he hopes that he might be of assistance." <sildanyari>

"From none other have I heard of this line of thinking," Seldan tells Mikilos levelly. "If I can be of aid to you, or accompany you, speak, and my blade is yours, for I, too, would know these things. Still do I think to strip her power, by seeing the cisterns cleaned, and the water made safe. I have asked those who may work quietly and with little magic to assist with that." He pauses, as another thing comes to him. "Have I spoken to you of Nenarulo Calanalata? Much has happened, and I would ensure that I do not keep from you that much may aid us." <sildanyari>

Mikilos cconsiders a few moments. "Nenarulo Calanalta? If they have been mentioned, it was not by name." <sildanyari>

By now, Seldan has finished assembling and donning the armor, and makes final adjustments. "I ask your forgiveness. You recall the day Kol," he pauses as if searching for a word, "assaulted the Temple of Vardama, no?" His wording in the sildanyari tongue is somewhat awkward. "He was not there idly or out of a mad desire to taunt. He broke into a tomb, thieved a body and the staff, orb, and necklace buried with it. She is known to do things with the bodies of the dead, although what she does is unknown." <sildanyari>

Mikilos tsks. "I'd heard of the assault, and vaugely recall something of looting, but I'd not heard any details." <sildanyari>

"The one thieved was a man named Nenarulo Calanalata. A sorcerer executed for demon worship, his body burned to ash centuries past. Why she stole it, I cannot say. That she has his items of power worries me." Seldan turns his full attention on Mikilos now. "His origin does not appear to be here, from all that I have been able to learn, though what it is, I cannot say. Whether he may be tied to Eclavdran, or to Her?" He shrugs. <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods, and ponders. "I do wonder Eclavdran's efforts in all of this. I believe his first tie came when Llyranost used the Tower to journy back 1000 years and try to use him to stop Her before she came to power. The attack that made Her hate them in the first place, quite likely. But i wonder, with all the time manipulations, if he influnced Llyranost to pick him specifically." <sildanyari>

Seldan nods slowly, his body language that of a man who had not put it all together yet, but hearing that makes a great deal of sense. "A good question. One does not randomly choose to summon a Duke of the Hells, and I wonder at Llyranost's," he pauses, searching for a word, then renders it in Tradespeak, 'hubris', "in summoning not only a demon, but one of such stature." Abruptly, he snaps his fingers. "I am remembered. I have asked one of my fellow Silver Guard to find you on this, a woman named Serene. She has taken a keen interest in Eclavdran's motives." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods. "Llyranost was desperate, I can understand their rash actions. But I by no means approve of them. As for Serene, I know her, but have not spoken recently." <sildanyari>

"She is only recently returned, and offered me her aid." There is real appreciation for that in Seldan's words. "Desperate, perhaps, but in their desperation, perhaps influenced to do so as you say. He is yet bound to seek her destruction, but one wonders what he will do when that is done, for surely he he free to go, a thing which could cause calamity upon Ea. Do we destroy Her, does that set Eclavdran free?" <sildanyari>

Mikilos considers. "...not free. Not fully, certainly. But it may loosen his restrictions. His pact to destory Her is not his only binding." The elf sighs, and rubs absently at his hairline. "And not all his pacts bind -him-. I still own him a favor. An Oath witnessed by the Sunlit Lands." <sildanyari>

Seldan stops cold at that revelation, and turns from where he had begun to go for the robe laying across the counter. He does not sound angry, though, so much as carefully calm. "I would know what pact you have made with him, and the other pacts known to you that bind him. You are not alone in having done so." He absently pushes that stray lock of hair from his eyes again. <sildanyari>

Mikilos considers, trying to recall details. "We summoned him in the Undying Lands, at the recommendation of the Guild. They had learned he knew a little something of the Tower. He agreed to offer us a magical Map that would lead to the where the Tower would be, at the time of our choice, that we could attack it in force, at will. A map we have yet to utilize. In exchange, each of us present would owe him a task. A minor favor not harmful to ourselves, and 'no more distasteful than working for a demon must be'. Before he would turn over the Map, however, one of the favors would need be granted first. Fetch a magic mirror, kept on the Celestial Plane, barely guarded. We were able to grab it with no real effort." He wizard glowers a moment. "We had no idea how to use the mirror. He did. He used the mirror to learn about the Tower, and then used that knowledge to enchant the Map." <sildanyari>

Seldan stops in his going for the robe, arrested by the description Mikilos gives, listening intently to every word, resting one gauntleted arm on the counter. "Similar to Halani," he murmurs, clearly thinking aloud. "I see. He collects favors to an unknown purpose, that do we know. Your possession of the map is known to me, but the time is not yet right to use it. Not yet. There is still more to be done." He speaks slowly. "A dangerous thing, to owe a task to a demon. Was it he who marked you with the snowflake, or her?" <sildanyari>

"Yes. From what Serene has said of him, he seems - unusual." Seldan finally picks up his belt and weapon belt again, donning those with hands that have gained long practice. He does not make comment on the answer to his question, though. "I still would know what he wants the favors for. Demons do not idly do favors for others, not unless there is something in it for them." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods. "A few I've no doubt are gained as opportunity presented itself. Others I'm sure had something specific in mind. And I dare not ponder which are which." <sildanyari>

Seldan finishes fastening the weapon belt, and picks up the robe, placing it carefully over his shoulders. Doing so requires some care given restricted movement, but the enchanted armor is far less restrictive than most of its ilk. "And yet must I ponder it, lest we unwittingly with her death unleash calamity untold upon Ea. He has a plan, and the least dire of those plans involve using those who owe him favors to unleash destruction upon her." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods. "He is a problem that will need be dealt with before this is all over. But i suspect dealing with him will be far easier than dealing with Her." <sildanyari>

Seldan frowns at that, the expression combined with the armor giving him the look of the Disapproving Paladin (tm) somehow. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is no easy task, that much is certain. Whether he is worse is a gamble I care not to take." He flexes experimentally again. "The armor fits well and is exceptionally comfortable. Fine work, as always, and you have my thanks. I fear that I will need it sonner, not later." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods. "A gamble I certainly don't care for. You are most welcome. Hopefully you'll never need it, but I doubt that. Again, if you;ve any troubles with it, let me know." <sildanyari>

"I know better than to think it will not be wanted, Master Mithralla. I have spent too much time foiling the plans of the wicked to think that I will not want it, and perhaps to sleep in it." Seldan's eyes light up with laughter, but there is a serious tone beneath the lightly-spoken words. "I shall continue to frustrate evil for as long as I draw breath, and I would have it no other way. Do I think of more to ask you, shall I find you here?" <sildanyari>

"That is well. Do you wish a blade to accompany you to the Fairy Queen's realm, you have mine for the asking. May Her light continue to fall upon your path. It is known to you where to find me, should you learn something, and you have my thanks for what is shared." With that, he begins to turn towards the door. <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods to Seldan. "Fae are a particular bunch, I'm still tring to find a time where it would be traditional for them to help." The tall elf lingers near the shop counter, the store open to the spring weather. <sildanyari>

Elleandra enters slowly, leaving the sunlight behind her. Taking just a moment to look around, she is surprised at the sight of Seldan. She makes her way towards him, though her attention frequently shifts to the elf he is speaking with. Once she draws close enough, she slips into a curtsey, "Hello Seldan! It is a blessing to meet you here."

Seldan pauses in his movement towards the door, turning with a frown. "We must wait for an auspicious time? Such knowledge is not mine, but I mislike a delay. Perhaps we can ..." He trails off, turning at the new voice and shifting immediately to Tradespeak. 'Elleandra, you have returned to the city? What of Kamaria?' <sildanyari>

Mikilos grins. "Not 'must', but they tend to follow certain traditions... on the first day a spring, for example, a maiden asking for shelter is, by tradition, granted safety without call for payment. Of course, a tradition might be broken at any time, so it's certainly nothing certain. Anyway..." the wizard turns his focus to the new arrival, nodding with a smile. 'Hello madam, welcome to Mirhtalla Merchandise. I am Mikilos Mithralla, Builder Arcane. How might I be of service?' <sildanyari>

Elleandra bows her head to Mikilos before she rises, "I appreciate your welcome. I actually was hoping to speak to you about sensitive matters." She looks to Seldan searchingly, "And honestly, I have questions of both of you, but I prefer discretion and privacy from prying eyes and ears." <sildanyari>

Seldan, who appears to have been heading for the door, relaxes - a little, both at the shift in language and at the explanation. "I believe to understand." His sildanyari is not perfect, but it is intelligible, and he would be considered by those who speak it natively to have something of an accent. The Myrrish accent in his Tradespeak does not improve this, and makes it obvious that the tongue is a second language to him. "Ah, I believe I understand. Elleandra is a druid, lately come to the area. I have sought her assistance in the matter of the cisterns." <sildanyari>

Seldan, who appears to have been heading for the door, relaxes - a little, both at the shift in language and at the explanation. "I believe to understand." His sildanyari is not perfect, but it is intelligible, and he would be considered by those who speak it natively to have something of an accent. The Myrrish accent in his Tradespeak does not improve this, and makes it obvious that the tongue is a second language to him. "Elleandra is a druid, lately come to the area. I have sought her help in the matter of the cisterns." <sildanyari>

Mikilos speaks with a casual fluency of a linguist, switching back with hardly a thought. "Of course. The shop has minor wards, but if you favor something a little more potent, can go into one of the inner rooms and set up some more powerful enchantments." <sildanyari>

"I appreciate your suggestion," says Elleandra. This is her native tongue, though she uses it only rarely. "Or is it safe to discuss matters here? I am seeking out those who have an interst in safe drink." She looks from Mikilos to Seldan, curious. "I have thoughts that could use shaping." <sildanyari>

"The wards, I think," Seldan remarks. "I would hear your thoughts, but this shop is known to many, and it is better if She," he leans slightly in the word, "not learn of what I have asked of Elleandra to do." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods thoughtfully, considering a few moments, and nods, haeding for the back storeroom. "This way." It looks like a fairly typical storeroom, with an assortment of crates and boxes, most related to the crafting a perfectly normal weapons and armor. Of course, some contents are a little more exotic. near the center of the room, a complex circle of runes has been scratched into the stone. A warding circle. Nothing too complex, but enough. 'Belhan!' Mikilos calls. 'I'm making a Mansion for a secure conversation. Keep an eye on the front.' The assistant lounging near the back door glances up from his book and nods, as Mikilos steps into the cirlce, murmurs for a moment, and steps though the magical door that appears in front of him. <sildanyari>

Elleandra follows in silence, doing her best to look around without seeming to be looking around too much. When the door opens, she follows. Only the slightest shift in her pace hints at her uncertainty. It is soon gone. "This is certainly one way to be assured of privacy." Once they are inside, she asks Seldan, "Would you like me to prove that I am still free of any snowflakes?" <sildanyari>

"No, that will not be needed," Seldan answers, shaking his head quickly after being the last inside. He, too, looks around, appreciation and joy lighting the blue eyes. "Most impressive, Master Mithralla." The door has now vanished behind them. "I would learn this spell, I think." <sildanyari>

Mikilos nods. "It's a surprisingly handy spell. One I wish I'd had earlier in my adventures. A single casting in Sendor could have saved lives. But it's also usful to have a pocket dimension for security." The elf waves past the ornate foyer, to a massive banquet hall, piled high with an elaborate feast. "Go ahead and indulged, will all disappear when the spell ends, unfortunately." He sighs. "As for snowflakes, I can offer no such proof." The wizard pushes up his sleeve, showing where a hand sized snowflake was carved into his flesh, many months ago. "But, between the wards and the shift in dimensions, it would be difficult at best for Her to Scry, and require enough force that it would be hard not to notice." <sildanyari>

"Perhaps this tongue will make you more at ease, Seldan?" asks Elleandra. "But I admit I find joy in hearing other races speak it." She will make the shift for now. "To get right to the point, I believe that we might be able to purify the cisterns by boiling them dry. Due to the danger of using magic for such a task, I had a mind to seek out those who wield natural flame with great skill, such as the khazad, whose furnaces were in many of my mother's stories." She settles herself at the table and with the hosts invitation, helps herself to trying a pale yellow drink. "I don't imagine one could arrange to spend their wedding night in these accomodations?" There are many things on her mind.

"There is no need to accommodate me, Elleandra. Your tongue is yet new to me, and I confess that the practice does not go amiss." Seldan slides back into Tradespeak with the ease of reverting to a native language, although the Myrrish accent is still present. Never one to turn down food, Seldan nonetheless nods his understanding of the magic's limitations. "So, we may eat our fill, but it will vanish if taken from this place. I understand."

Following suit, he too, settles himself at the table, setting aside gauntlets for ease of use. "I know not if ordinary fire will slay the plague oozes, Master Mithralla. I know only of diluting them in water, and crushing them. Still might her plan force them to show themselves."

Mikilos quirks a brow and grins. "Not a situation I've been asked before, but I suppose is possible. There are alcoves towards the back with beds, enough for over a hundred. There are also arcane servants to clear plates away and refill glasses, though I sent them to the back as I doubt they'll be needed." th wizard take a seat himself, grabbing some sort of buttery fried bread. Though not so gaunt as he was a few days ago, the elf is still quite thin, a side effect from his recent bout with the Plague. "I do most everything with magic, so I can only offer so much. But I agree if one wants a large non-magical furnace, the dwarves are the ones to go to. And while I don't know if these specific ooze are vulnerable to fire, I can't imagine they enjoy it."

"What do know of them?" asks Elleandra. She eats, to be certain, but her mind is settled on the task at hand. The matter of her wedding night will wait, but it seems Mikilos' magic would be better than any surprise she might manage otherwise. "Can we use magic to detect them? When they infect a person, are the oozes still alive, or are they.. something else at that point? I have heard from another that there is something of a cure, but that it kills those it fails to work for." She is just getting warmed-up when it comes to questions, but there are limits to how much one might answer at one time.

"They live," Seldan answers between bites, but sets down his fork for a fuller explanation, silently taking this on to allow the still-thin mage to eat. "They can be detected using magic, but doing so will activate them, and they will seek to infect another. It will do the same, does it comes into contact with a magical aura of any kind." He stops entirely, and picks up a glass, although his choice is deep red in color.

He sighs heavily at the second question, closing his eyes. "Say rather that the cure is ... painful." Something in the carefully chosen words speaks of experience. "Only the most determined and strong would survive what must be done, and therefore whether it works or not is of little consequence. Worse still, it leaves ... marks of its passing, when cured in that way."

Mikilos considers. "I'm not aware of a divination that detects them, but I've not tried any. I assume they're as alive as ever inside a person, though exactly how it works I don't know. An Inquisitor spell has been used to cure several people, but the casting is harmful to the target, not everyone will survive." He falls quiet for a few moments. "It was... very unpleasant. And while any single casting -might- work, there's no promise that will draw out every last scrap of the ooze." He sighs again. "However, in my last self-treatment, I use a simple Dispel Magic, which while again it took many, many castings, does appear to have eventually worked. But, I'm not fully confidant in the method. I'm not exactly a normal case." He considers. "As for the ooze themselves, they're filled with Primal energy, perhaps drawn directly from the Source. The Mistress didn't make them, but she has used them, and if not caused their adaptations, watched over them. The life force they devour is stored, to be used for some purpose, though we don't know what."

Elleandra is lost in thought for a moment, trying to determine what questions to ask next. After consuming some golden-skinned fruit she's never seen before, but clearly loves, she decides she is ready to learn more. "So the cure is challenging, dangerous, and unreliable. That is a serious shortcoming. What can we say about how these oozes spread? Do they go only person to person when magic is involved? How do they select their targets? And it we were to purify the cisterns, would they likely repopulate it by spreading from their host?"

"It ... lives in the lungs, and may so spread, but ... by far the most dangerous is the introduction of magic." Seldan picks up his fork again, but only picks at his food. "They are mindless, I believe, and simply target anyone not already infected. It seems aware of who is so infected, and who is not, although those bearing or using magic are of course its primary targets."

For the last, he thinks before shaking his head. "I cannot say, but I think it unlikely."

Mikilos nods. "They're attracted to magic, and thus to casters, but they aren't actually intelligent. And while they clog the lungs, they seem to live inside the body as a whole. They can infest golems and creatures without lungs, so I'm not sure how that works. As for the cisterns, I think they -can- be infected again, but i'm not confident they would be. I don't know how much effort it took to infect the water itself. Usually adding water weakens them."

"I fear the removal of these creatures is a task that will be challenging beyond my talents to aid," muses Elleandra. She doesn't like admitting that. "Are the oozes themselves magical? You mentioned dispelling magic as a way to stop them. Eventually. I'm very curious why that killed them. I imagine using magic to purify the water only results in something horrible happening. Do they.. leap out to infect others?" She busies herself with some salad of greens and peppers.

"In short, yes," Seldan answers, seeming to regather his equilibrium. He tucks back into his food, taking a bite before going on, his use of utensils very precise. "I would demonstrate, but such a demonstration is very dangerous. I would place neither you nor he so at risk." A nod to Mikilos. "I would not say - beyond your talents. Say rather that it will want all of us together, and that by focusing on removing the oozes from the cisterns, you will aid the effort greatly."

Mikilos nods. "It doesn't kill them, it annoys them. So much that they struggle out of the infected's lungs to try and attack whatever disrupted them. Maybe they're attracted to the spell and think it tastes best, so run out to try and eat it? I don't know. But once outside the body they can be killed without massive effort. But typically in the rush to get out they leave a chunk behind. And the tiniest chunk can rapidly grow to full sized inside the body. It's only the rare spell that leave a victim cured. Perhaps one in two dozen, be there isn't enough information to run real odds."

"They sound loathsome," Elleandra says. "But this food is delicious." She considers the cisterns. That seems manageable. "I have a few thoughts. One, is to empty the cisterns into the plane of fire. I can't imagine that environment will be something they can survive. I believe it will be easier to boil the water, however. Do we have any if these creatures can survive boiling? Can they survive outside water and outside a host?" Every answer she receives seems to inspire still more questions.

"My first encounter with these was upon the Plane of Fire." Seldan's tone is rather grim. "As they were drawn from the Source, I would either return them to the Source whence they came, or simply cast them into the Void." He laughs quietly, and for a moment, he gets a boyish look to him. "I have at times wondered what would happen did one shoot a bag of holding into a portable hole in the presence of such an ooze."

Mikilos grins. "They feed on magic, including magical fire, but i'm not sure how the plane of Fire itself would run. I'm very wary to unleash them onto another plane. A person infected transformed into a fire elemental doesn't fare well, but i don't know about infecting someone who is already made of fire."

Elleandra nods, surprised at the news. "Then I will attempt to boil all the water away and see what is left of them. And I will not use magical fire, but rely on the primal force itself. I don't suppose there is any safe way for me to test this, is there?" The tension of the questions is getting to her, and she diverts her mind to the reason this is all so important. "By the way, the beds that are here. Are they as good as the food? Are there baths?"

"I am certain that a test for the matter could be developed." Seldan continues to eat, but defers the matter of the mansion itself to Mikilos, instead turning his attention to his plate.

Mikilos shrugs. "The witch Alba was, last I heard, trying to work with a live sample. I've not seen her in some time, so have no idea what she might have learned." He waves vaugely towards the back. "The accommodations are fairly minimal, but the beds are plush and soft, and the rooms warm and dry. There currently is no bath, but I'v never tried to create the mansion with one. I suppose it's possible."

"After we are successful, I hope I can rent a mansion for a night," says Elleandra. "It is a wonderful place for a wedding party and it seems very comfortable. Particularly for those who are used to city comforts." By the way she says it, she doesn't include herself in that group. "I will seek Alba. Do you have any suggestions as to where I might find her? If boiling doesn't work, perhaps other things might. Lightning or acid come to mind. I imagine we are unaware of any predators that would slay the ooze."

Mention of Alba draws a snort from Seldan, but he continues to eat. "The only force I am aware of that reliably destroys these beings is crushing force. Perhaps filling the cistern with a block of stone?"

Mikilos smiles mildly. "She runs... or at least ran... a spider farm on the edge of the Felwood. She's... an unusual figure... even for a witch."

"The Felwood?" Elleandra sighs softly, "It is an interesting place to live. I will have to discover for myself why one would farm spiders." The druid shakes her head, "I wish there was something about this that wasn't dangerous and weird. I feel like not knowing what the purpose of these creatures is leaves us blind so something important."

"There are those who say that Alexandria itself is fraught with danger and absurdity alike." Seldan picks up a slice of bread and butters it. "They would not be wrong. One need only look to the artificer's hall for proof." He sets down the knife, holding the bread to eat when he finishes speaking, but at the second remark, his lips set into a grim line. "The tale of this plague and how it came to be is a complex one, and we yet learn more every day. It is a dangerous tale, though." Mikilos nods in agreement. "For every detail we learn, it seems two more mysteries pop up, if not three."

"And the risks are considerable," murmurs Elleandra. "There was a time when my greatest dread was telling my father whom I have decided to marry. He will definitely not approve. But now I can always throw him in a cistern if he doesn't like it." She smirks and laughs lightly, "Though I imagine my mother might be rather offended should I do so."

Seldan quickly shakes his head. "I wish this plague on none," he tells Elleandra firmly. Apparently this is not a joke to the paladin. "I myself have had it and been cured, and my own mother yet lies ill with it. We know not what it does, or what evil purpose might be the destiny of the force that it draws." He relents a little, and adds, "My own father will doubtless be unhappy. He has yet to approve of any of my choices so far, and yet ... that choice belongs to the gods, not to him." His eyes lower.

Mikilos grins, and takes a few bites of his negleted bread. "I think my family has given up on my marriage. Though think I've a few decades yet before I'm old enough for them to get fussy about it. They've not approved my my choices, generally speaking, though as far as many are concerned, I am the head of the clan and can do whatever I might wish. Is a bit of mess, all told."

"I apologize, Seldan. I should not jest, but this a dark topic and I cannot stay utterly in its shadow," Elleandra explains. "I begin to suspect that parents are never satisfied with their children's choices. Though my mother, it seems, is delighted at the prospect that her daughter might finally be settled. At least somewhat." With a frown, Elleandra says, "I imagine I should be going, now. I do not wish to draw attention on our meeting. I am committed to help, but I must be wary."

Immediately, Seldan's entire demeanor closes into polite acceptance. "Of course. Forgive me, I speak out of turn." He takes a small bite of bread, and seems intent on eating his fill while they are there, although he politely turns the topic to other things. "I trust that Kamaria is doing well?"

Mikilos nods. "You're welcome to remain if you wish, the room can last a little over 24 hours, but if you need to leave i quite understand."

Elleandra smiles at Seldan and nods, "My beloved is enjoying herself. I have arranged for her to stay somewhere with warm beds and a hot bath while I am away. And it is easier for her to read and write at all hours there, as well." She finds that change in topic a relief. "And I have been given direction in how we might have our wish of children together. I must go to the Temple of Althea to ask, but it seems like all things are possible, with love." She explains to Mikilos, "Kamaria is the woman I love, recently freed thanks to Seldan and others. In all things, she is foremost in my thoughts. Including this dangerous business."

"Then perhaps it is her you should consider foremost, when deciding whether to risk yourself in this." Seldan sets down food, fork, and knife, and rests his wrists on the table. "There are others who can see to the cisterns. I would have you both safe, and I would ask your forgiveness for involving you, if that is not your wish."

Mikilos ponders absently. "There's a belt of which I'm aware for short term changes, but I'm not confidant it's long term effects for bearing children."

"It seems that the blessings of Althea present some way. I am not too concerned with specifics, and I feel like it will work out." Elleandra goes on, to take-in Seldan's suggestion. "I cannot create life with Kamaria until magic is safe from the danger this plague presents. We both agree that I must resolve this problem and make the world a little safer for our child before we conceive. Trust me, I wish I could remain uninvolved. But I do not believe I should. This is now a threat to the wild as well, and the fire in my spirit demands that I answer this threat. That feeling is why I believe cleansing fire will have some role in this."

"Very well. Do as you think best for the both of you, and do you deem it safest to step aside, you need but speak." Seldan's entire demeanor is still completely closed, and he takes a drink, then rises. "If you both will forgive me, I should return to the Temple. If I may be of aid, there will you will find me, or find word of me. Until then, may Her light find your path." With that, he turns and takes himself from the room.

Elleandra nods to her friend, "It is time for me to go as well, I fear. I apparently have a long day ahead. The Felwood shall prove an interesting destination." She curtseys deeply to Mikilos and Seldan, "Please be safe, both of you."