What is in your Head
There is A Plan(tm).
First, the setting: per Cesran's suggestion and by his efforts, they shall contain their efforts via one of his comfortable and Magnificent Mansions. This necessitates traveling outside of the city proper, not that this, in itself, is a negative. A spot of forest or meadow would make for a pleasant walk; Auranar (and Vera as of late) do appreciate the natural surroundings.
The players: Auranar shall be the mistress of ceremonies, guide and inquisitor, as it were. Cesran the scribe of results and advisor, should he know of other topics or follow-up inquiries. Last, and certainly not least is Aryia as peace of mind. Should minds go rampant, she shall make peace and prevent harm. Verna is, in this plan, the host.
The plan: Delve into the memories hosted by Verna in a controlled, informative manner. All to thwart them and the plans of their originator.
Thus, over the river and possibly through the woods to the archmagus' mansion they go.
GAME: Cesran casts Mage's Magnificent Mansion. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30 GAME: Cesran casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Cesran casts Wall of Force. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30 GAME: Cesran casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24 GAME: Cesran casts Mind Blank. Caster Level: 20 DC: 31
There's a location in the wilderness which Auranar and Verna have been to before, a clearing by a pool which Auranar finds reflective and beautiful. They've used it before, and the memory of those times brings a bit of thoughtfulness to Auranar's brow. She waits patiently for Cesran to do his work with the mansion, the location they end up doesn't matter very much to her. What matters is that this _works_. She holds Verna's hand gently now, because later...
Cesran opens the door to the mansion as he's prepared a central chamber with everything they need, although there are other doors leading out of the room. There is a comfortable chair, with thick leather straps to hold Verna down, off to the side is a desk and chair with all manner of writing implements and papers. "All right. I have reviewed the mansion and we should be ready to go. I'll be casting some other spells once we get Verna ready to make sure she can't get out should something go wrong."
Aryia was the peace of mind. And she had two pieces readily available if need be. She was a bit hesitant to agree to help with this, but there were few among the web folks they they knew who could function well in physical incapacitation without lasting damage. And, to boot, her role was simple in all of this.
Though, she was a little pouty emerging from the tree line to the pool in the middle of the wilderness. It was cold, and a long trek. Lengths of rope were loops around from shoulder to hip, was well as an extra, albeit small, bag next to the one she always carries. She gives a small wave to those present, her a tinge anxious. Saying nothing (as usual), she kneels down, pops open the extra bag, and starts shoveling snow into one waterskin.
Then another.
Then... another... ad infinitum.
About nine are filled before she makes an 'ack' sound and jogs into the open door. She freezes at the sight of the chair, gray face paling to ash for a moment before shaking her head and dumping her things down off to the side. "Don't forget that thingy that keeps from teleporting," she gestures to the wizard. <Handspeech>
It is a methodical, logical plan, with planned details for safety and to mitigate risk. All rather to be expected from Verna. It is also more than that.
Aryia's role may be direct and simple, but it is also one of great trust. Perhaps the greatest with her, in the safety of all. For Cesran, respect of his abilities, intellect, and restraint given his similar affliction.
With Auranar... it is both surprising and not when the location becomes clear. The held hand is squeezed; it's clear that the recognition and significance is noted. She was all but silent on the journey, taking the moment to enjoy the scenery, trek, and companionship. Surely she was not pondering possibilities for the umpteenth time.
She looks over the interior with scrutiny before nodding to Cesran. "This will do well, thank you." Another nod to Aryia as she catches her reminder, then notices the skins of ice. "I do hope that all of those will not be necessary." Lastly, she turns to Auranar, pulling a small bundle of scrolls with her free hand to offer her. "The top-most is a list of topics I collated. Cesran may know of more. The remainder are the spells for your use."
Auranar gently accepts the scrolls and other papers from Verna. She seems about to say something, but eyes the waterskins filled with snow and bites her lip instead. She wants so much for this to work, but there's also so much risk involved. She gives Verna's hand another squeeze and then heads for the mansion, determined to see this through.
Cesran nods to Aryia, "I've prepared it, although it's only a 20 foot radius be ready to stop her from teleporting if she gets out of that." He waves everyone to get in before he closes the door and he casts a spell to put a wall of force in between the door and them. "Once you get settled Verna I'm going to cast a magic circle against evil turned inward to lock in anything that might come out as well as put up a dimensional lock to block out any teleporting and just to be safe I've all ready put up a false vision that we are having a tea party incase anyone wants to scry upon us.
GAME: Cesran casts False Vision. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28 GAME: Cesran casts Wall of Force. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30
Aryia finishes putting her things down, her nodding a few times. "Then I'll tie her feet so she can't get far," she signs, catching Auranar's expression for a beat. She gives an apologetic shrug before uncoiling the rope wrapped around her as she steps in as directed.
The rapid fire list of things being done makes her blink twice. And she flashes two letters, "O-K."
Taking a look to everyone, she motions once more, "Once you're settled in and I get your legs tied up, give me a moment to, uh, gird myself." <Handspeech>
Verna offers Auranar a flash of smile: still no competitor to the syl's own, but it is bright for the bearer. "The risk of a few bruises is nothing. Fret not. You are the most skilled and knowledgeable of us all in this. You will succeed, and so shall we all."
She then settles into the chair so that Aryia can bind her as she chooses. As the full-blood does so, she nods to Cesran. "Utilize as much as you see fit, or moreso."
When Aryia rises to gird herself, Verna offers a few brief gestures to her while she stands between Verna and the others.
Verna says "You have my deepest thanks, and a plea. Whatever occurs, keep her safe. If need be, all other priorities are secondary." <handspeech>
Auranar waits... It feels like forever. Like time is slowing down until Verna is tied up and she feels this heavy weight in her chest. She waits. For Verna to say what she's going to say to Cesran, to her, to Aryia. All of it moving at quarter-pace. She wishes she could offer the other woman a smile but... She can't. "This will work." She reassures Verna, and herself of this fact and steps back slightly. Readies the list in one hand and the scroll in the other. She's as ready as she will ever be.
Cesran starts to cast again, with every spell that he casts the veins under his skin glow blue, brighter if he's using a stronger spell. A shimmering emerald dome forms up 20 feet around the chair in all directions before he starts to carefully lay out the magic circle, "This is going to take a moment." He says as he takes out the powdered silver and starts to carefully draw out the circle.
GAME: Cesran rolls spellcraft: (3)+42: 45 GAME: Cesran casts Scintillating Pattern. Caster Level: 20 DC: 31
Aryia watches the private signs offered to only the mute. The light in the mul's eyes dim ever so slightly. She sighs quietly, nods, and binds Verna up with the chair's implements, as well tying the Mourner's legs together (shoelaces too.)
She steps aside, leans into one of the Mourner's tipped ears, and whispers near silently, "If I lose another person today I am going to kick your ass." <Undercommon>
She cares.
Preparations done, the mute steps back. She steels a breath and cracks her neck. Then, focuses on herself, interlacing her fingers in front of her before stretching them out, snapping knuckles as well. Numerous, glowing silver lines appear, starting around her eyes, then running down her neck and her limbs. Her eyes shine, and she bounces on the balls of her feet. "Ready," two twisted fingers wag off to the side. <Handspeech>
Verna checks her bindings, both visually and with a firm tug at each. She is not about to burst bonds, bend bars, nor lift gates, but it would be folly not to check. After this, she looks to the others, takes a moment for a slow inhale, then exhale, and then announces. "I am prepared. Should my demeanor change and I speak unkind words, I ask that none take them personally."
Auranar smiles softly at Verna. It seems she managed one after all. "We'll know it's not you Verna. But hopefully... this is all a precaution." She swallows heavily and then before she can become any more nervous, she casts the spell on the scroll that Verna provided for her. She motions for Cesran to be ready by the paper for taking notes, and looks at the list that Verna provided. "What does Charn mean to you?"
Cesran finishes up the circle and he carefully brushes his hands off. He moves to his desk and sets his staff next to him as he pulls out a quill and paper to start to take detailed notes.
Aryia masks her nervousness by donning a facade of seriousness. She looms beside the chair, in perfect decking and grabbing range. She watches, carefully. On a hair trigger if things suddenly get out of hand.
Verna can only hope that logic and proportion have not fallen sloppy dead, and that her mind does not move low. Yet, she is prepared -nay, willing- to chase the rabbit this time, to risk the fall.
It seems her Red Queen makes it so she need not chase at all, however: memories spring all but unbidden to feed her head. There is a sharp inhale at the suddenness and unpleasant shading...
Her eyes remain closed as Verna focuses on details to recount them. Her words are even, yet brisk. "Charn is the base of operations. The majority of my-THE cultists are in Charn. Hotaru is in Charn."
Her brow furrows as she proceeds to describe several locations. No great landmarks identify them with certainty. The glimpses are brief. Yet she provides descriptions as accurate as she is able.
GAME: Verna rolls will: (17)+20: 37
Auranar brightens as Verna describes the locations and... nothing more. No attempts to escape. Nothing untoward at all. She beams, she radiates happiness that things are working thus far. "Is there anything else you can tell us?" She's not sure how long the spell will last with her casting it. "About Charn?"
Cesran is staring intently at his paper as he focuses on writing down what Verna says without fully comprehending it. He feels the nudging at the back of his mind, but he ignores it. He hears the words but's he's not paying attention to them. He's just writing down everything that Verna says.
Aryia lets out a shuddering sigh as the information is spilled forth. Good. Verna was doing good. A little thumbs up from the hip is shot her way before she goes back to being ready. "Just let me know when you need water."
She has like, nine waterskins of the stuff. <Handspeech>
Verna manages a nod in answer to the inquiry from Auranar. Or the comment by Aryia. Perhaps both. "There is more..." She pursues the thread in mind, albeit now intentionally. The buffering of the spell was welcomed, but it is also, alas, so very brief, so she wades on without it.
Such is notable in the further creasing of her features and the audible strain in her voice. "Charn is... it is the only stronghold. The wards shunned and blocked him from Ale.. here. There is only Charn."
A pause for sharp breath. "There. Nobles aided m...grrr.. HIM! Aided him and he gave them power. Prestige. Sister. Your sister's family. Among them." The ratio of words to breaths gets quite low.
Auranar bites her lips and stands firm. "No more Verna! No more without another spell. You'll lose yourself to his memories. Don't push for more if the memory fades." She's very firm on this. Not wanting Verna to end up getting hurt. "It's okay." She breathes as though she might do so FOR Verna. "I'm casting another one."
This isn't just for Verna, but for the others as well. The spell flows off the scroll and into Verna's mind. Easing the connection surely. "Think this time about Malik." Her brow furrows at the name. "Seldan's husband?"
Cesran continues to copy down whatever Verna says and he's solely focused on what he's writing. It's a real struggle as he hears that Seldan has a husband, but he manages to continue to focus on what he's doing. The gentle scratching of the quill on parchment serves as a good focus as he tries not to dwell on what's being said.
Aryia blinks. Her sister's... family? She scowls. Damn it. She never got Aya's full name. But she did have some vague recollection of off handed comments about her past.
She shakes her head. No time to dwell on that. Here and now, she has one job. And that's to make sure the Mourner didn't harm anyone here. She nods at Auranar's instruction, finding that insight a wise course of action.
Verna only just declared that Auranar was the conductor and guide of this excursion. The Mourner would be a rude, if not merely false were she not to follow that. It is no small benefit that she is most inclined to mind her wishes, regardless. That the spell makes the memories arise in a segue is also of great aid.
As is the fact that they are buffered as images focus. Images of Malik. Of Eclavdran. The stalking. The catch. The taunting. The ... violation. Verna was separately aware of general facts of the matter, but this is wholly different. The individual trapped in the fiend's grip, flickers in her mind from Malik, then, to another in another memory, and back.
"Malik is bound to him. By the demon's blood. Perhaps even now. Not willingly, but bound all the same." She keeps to the facts.
Auranar pales at this information, her face taking on a ghastly sheen. "Does Seldan know? Oh, Eluna." She murmurs the goddess' name under her breath, her fingers tight on the papers she holds. Too caught up in the thought that Malik is bound to Eclavdran…
Cesran continues to write down what he is hearing not letting it get into his mind. The sound of his writing fills the air around him as he keeps at his appointed task.
GAME: Verna rolls will: (13)+20: 33 to Aftershock
Aryia blinks at this new information. Her attention shifts to Cesran, eyeing him as well. She returns her focus, then spies Auranar growing white. She claps her hands a few times, then puts her hands flat beside her visage. Like horse blinders. "Focus." She was the peace of mind, after all.
Back to Verna, eyes narrowed. She cracks her knuckles once more to keep that feeling going just in case something was to happen. <Handspeech>
Verna cannot see the encouraging signs from Aryia (even if they were not meant for herself), nor Auranar's change in pallor. She can feel the pain in her other's tone, however. As well, she can only imagine Seldan's, as "He knows. In part if not whole," she admits. Her tone is flat, cold, and yet there is a curve of a fresh smile flirting to tug her lips upwards. Even as her brow is creased into a scowl.
"Malik is hi..mine ...his." Possessive pronouns are progressively more perplexing. "Eyes and ears. Until he killed her. She had to die. More than Seldan. The Silverguard will be alone. He made his husband betray him. I made others betray him. Seldan will trust no one. He will believe all will betray him." Verna's lips twist further up even as the rest of her face and body are clenched taut in effort.
Auranar blinks, realizing that this tension in Verna is... is her fault. She didn't pave the way for new memories and now... Verna is suffering. "It's okay Verna. You're here. In the present with us. Let go of the memory." She breathes out and nods to Aryia. "I'll cast the next scroll."
She does so, preparing the way for more memories. "This time - Hotaru. What does that name mean to you?"
Cesran puts aside one piece of parchment to take another and continue right where he left off. He doesn't let himself get distracted as he stops himself from any pondering or questions. He's just here to write and that's what he focuses on.
GAME: Verna rolls will: (2)+20: 22
Aryia squints as the Mourner explains more, the verbiage getting twisted and going back and forth. Was her... Aya? Again, she shakes her head, and focuses.
She could see the tension rising in Verna's visage, and the mute reaches out, giving a warning flick on the side of Verna's head. Nothing harmful, just 'hey, keep it in check.'
Shining eyes glance to Auranar, and she solemnly nods.
GAME: Verna rolls will: (4)+20: 24 GAME: Verna rolls will: (14)+20: 34
"No." The word is strained, and rather soft, yet carries the wait of the effort taken to utter it. Not unlike someone with a ruined throat risking exhaling blood for a heavy whisper.
"Aura. Seldan deserves deserves... the truth. Malik deserves freedom." It would be freedom for them both, in reality. Thus, she continues to follow that thread. Perhaps unwisely, in addition to the rebuff of the mistress of ceremonies.
Verna's breathing appears to improve, however, as she sucks in a gasp that snaps her eyes open. Head and eyes pivot to look about her, though the latter blink more than they perceive as she pants. It takes several long moments and many sequences before her gaze gains some clarity.
"Malik was to kill Salina. That was the price. That is when I chose Seldan to be his vessel. Make him his, and me him. Seldan was betrayed, then he would betray in kind. His goddess, his husband, everyone. So ...delicious." Her lips curl upwards again in her less-strained-more-weary visage.
"Harm the right one, and receive twice the pain... One beautiful, one loved..." Verna's gaze promptly snaps to Auranar. Another blink, and her gaze is shining. Wet. Yet the smile still fights against her face to remain at least partly present.
"Forgive me. I ... hurt you. I did not know what else to do..."
Auranar looks pained. By Verna's choice and the words that pour freely from her lips. "You killed me." She whispers the words. "But it's okay." She murmurs.
Gently she reaches out, touches the other woman on the face and looks into her eyes. "But you have to leave this memory behind Verna. You have to. Please." She doesn't want Verna hurt. They've come so far.
Cesran takes a moment to set down the quill and rub his hands before he goes back to writing. He doesn't miss a word of it as he keeps his head bent down looking at the paper and not at Verna. He's not going to give into the temptation and possibly ruin what she's trying to do.
Aryia scowls, crossing into Verna's field of vision slightly. She's focusing less on the information and more on the Mourner's state of being. Aura's anchoring touch. The guilt underneath the fighting smile. Aryia could feel the pang tug at her heart from all this. But-
A glance to their conductor, and the mute pugilist nods. "She's right," she points to the other elf in the room. "Listen to her." <Handspeech>
The 'appearance' of Aryia into her field of view is a mild startle and Verna's focus shifts to her. When has the full-blood's advice ever failed? Not once that Verna can recall and it led her to-
"Aura," is all she gets out as her attention snaps sharply back to the syl. From the point, in time for the touch. Hearing the truth mentioned aloud, even softly, causes a wince, even if such has always been truth.
Yet.. Auranar is right. Even if the threshold to they crossed into the mansion might well be upon the very spot she fell, by a (logical?) flick of Verna's own hand. Verna clears her throat, hoarsely. "Yes. I should. I must. We must continue on."
-TBC