A Reckless Plan is Born

Wilderness Pointe, afternoon.

The door to the Wayfarer's Inn opens, and a figure stands silhouetted in the doorway, cloak in one hand and pack in the other and never mind how cold it is. Dolan pauses, watching the area intently, scanning ot carefully for something, then when he does not appear to find it, takes the stairs at a jog, stalks over to the nearest tree, drops cloak and pack unceremoniously into the snow at the feet of the bare-branched thing, and flings up his right arm, leaning it on the tree, his forehead on the upraised arm, and starts to shake uncontrollably.

A black spot on the road resolves into the slender form of an elf walking carefully through the snow and ice. She too seems to be looking for something, her dark eyes roaming as her hands keep the cloak tight around herself. Auranar becomes even more clear as she stops in front of the Wayfarers Inn. It's Dolan. He's not well-hidden really, and she spots him. A glad greeting starts to rise to her lips, but she stops herself short of uttering it. Instead she moves through the snow closer to him. "Dolan?" It's said gently and quietly.

"Fuck," Dolan swears, his voice shaking, and he draws multiple deep breaths, clearly trying to pull himself together. "I could have done it. I had him. I couldn't make myself do it." Only then does he look up, and over at Auranar. "Brightest of days, Auranar." His natural pupil is wide. Something scared the stuffing out of him, and yet he seems to be unharmed. "Verna's in the Wayfarer Inn. She'll probably be out in a minute. She's probably furious at me."

What on earth is he talking about?

"Ni'essa's light upon your path." Auranar offers gently, the greeting coming after his, but there's obvious confusion on her features. "I thought she might be out this way, but what's going on Dolan? Who did you 'have' and why would Verna be upset with you?" Her confusion isn't made any more clear by the rewording of his own statements really.

As if summoned, Verna exits the inn: at a dead run and seeming to have put shoulder to door. Admittedly, this may have been unintentional and due to putting hand first and failing to stiff-arm the door open. Because this requires a stiff arm. Even in her haste, her head (hood still doffed) and eyes flit about in search of something. She does find Dolan, though he may not be the original sought. "Dolan, we must talk! But first, I must return to-" her eyes widen "Aura!" Pause. "You are here?"

Dolan is leaning with his arm against a tree trunk, half-turned towards Auranar, flesh and blood eye wide and haunted. "Kol. Kol Demontry. I just had a civil conversation with him. I - I think I know what I have to do. I - I just don't know if I can do it." He turns to lean his back against the tree, shoulders and then head. "Listen to me for a minute. I know what he wants."

Rocky exits the Inn without hesitation, not exactly rushing, but not letting anything delay him. Like the dribble of soup on his chin, or the chunk of black bread still in hand. He did make sure to pay for his meal, if the coin purse being tucked away by his other hand is any clue. A swift glance around, and the armored lizardman follows Verna towards Dolan.

"Kol?!" Auranar asks shocked. "Is Verna okay?" Verna comes out a moment later and she's immediately grateful to see the woman in one piece. No evidence of a fight. She moves toward Verna, but Dolan's words stop her for a third time. "What do you mean... No, just explain it to us Dolan." She shakes her head free of the multitude of questions flitting through it at the moment.

"Are you well? Did he come near you?" Verna helpfully aids Auranar in closing by completing the rest of the distance. Hands go to the sylvanori's shoulders with the questions and Verna looks to be making a summary evaluation, just to be certain. After a moment, she turns to Dolan, otherwise remaining where she is. "Speak, Dolan, please, and share what you learned."

_Think, Brydion. Come on._ Dolan still seems to be trying to pull himself together. "He - I found out what he's after. It was the eye. He - thought of it as a mask, or something hiding my face. He called it - beautiful." There's a lot to unpack in the tone in which that word is spoken, a complex mishmash of confusion, disgust, hurt, and relief. "He likes pain, Verna. He likes giving it, and he likes getting it. He's a fucking monster. I - he wanted to know if it hurt."

Rocky chuffs, a great plume if foggy breath in the chill air. "Who was that man? What did he do?" He nods greetings to Auranar, but his attention is on Dolan and and Verna.

Auranar shakes her head at Verna. "I didn't even see him." She must have missed him coming out of the inn. She offers the woman a quick hug, but her attention is divided by Dolan's explanation. Thus she wraps her arm around Verna's waist and holds her close while he talks. "That's... He's a vampire. A terrible creature of immense power that haunts the nightmare realm."

She glances at Rocky. "Sorry. I don't know you, but it might be best if you don't know the details... He's a dangerous foe."

Verna reciprocates both the hug and the lingering one-armed version with Auranar. To offer protection... and possibly receive a sense of stability as well. She nods to the Makari. "A very dangerous foe," she confirms before refocusing upon Dolan. "Yes, he is a monster. I am well aware that he enjoys inflicting pain. From my recent visions of his prior demise, yes, he seemed to find just as much perverse enjoyment in receiving it, as well." These do not appear epiphanies to her.

"Do you mean that he wanted your eye? Because of the pain the loss implied? Something else?" A pause, though not long enough for Dolan to answer the question. "I learned more of him, today, as well... though I am uncertain and concerned by what it would imply."

"No, he wanted to see the scars behind it. He liked them." Talking about it, on some level, forces the knowledge into an area of the brain where the inquisitor can make use of it, and he straightens to look around at the others. His eyes land on Rocky, and he freezes, hardening and staring none-too-kindly at the makari. "You." The word drips frozen icicles. "That's a vampire, and an old and powerful one. Don't fuck with him, if you have one ounce of sense. That is not a man. It's a monster."

Rocky blinks, then freezes, going utterly motionless for several seconds. A second blink, eyes flicking to Dolan, heated, but cooling almost instantly. Another moment of still consideration, and he nods to Auranar. "This one is called Rocky. If foe is dangerous, ignorance will not change This Ones place."

The wild elf senses a rift between the sith- Rocky and Dolan. Without thinking she steps forward to draw Dolan's attention. It draws Verna with her. "You found out that he enjoys... Well I suppose that makes sense..." She falls silent a moment before refocusing. "You said you knew what you had to do... What is it that you have to do?" She looks at Verna, curious what the other woman had learned as well, but she can only ask so many questions at once and have any hope that they will be answered.

"Accept," Dolan answers. Suddenly, he is the inquisitor again, sharp and focused, his emotions locked inside an invisible iron cage within. "He knows where Zalgiman and the wolves are. I think that's why he's allied with them. They give him that pain he's looking for. He's not on their side so much as they give him what he wants." His tones are laced with iron, sturdy and ready to go. "I accept and leave the rest of you something to follow me with, and he'll take us right to the camp."

The faraway gaze takes over again, though, and he falls silent, staring off into the distance.

Verna moves with Auranar, as if attached at the hip. She lifts her free hand between the other two in a mild gesture. "Rocky," she addresses him. "Peace on your nest. No offense is intended. Concerns are high at this moment. I believe Dolan only wishes to firmly convey the danger at hand, and he is not wrong."

She turns following the attempt to cool matters to regards Dolan anew. Auranar already asked the pertinent question, so she awaits his answer. And immediately dislikes it. With a scowl. "You do not know what he might do, and he need not bring you to their camp to do it, Dolan. I cannot discount what you believe of his motives, but... do you realize what joining him might entail?!"

Auranar places a calming hand on Verna's shoulder now. Motioning to Dolan. His far-away gaze tells her that he is seeing something other than the here and now. "I'm sure he knows the danger Verna. I'm sure of that. But if he were followed, you could rescue him if the plan goes awry and he's... in danger before they reach the camp." She has hope. Faith in Dolan and in the gods to protect him. "That's a big risk though Dolan... What about Andelena? I mean... You can't do it without telling her."

Rocky chuffs softly at Doland's words, and nods. Respect. But at Verna's point, he hesitates. "Your eye. Magic? Unique? Replaceable? If vampire wants, gift as give, trace eye. Find camp ready as warrior, not as sacrifice."

GAME: Dolan rolls will: (16)+10: 26

"He doesn't want the eye. That's got nothing to do with it." Fury rises in Dolan, pushing down and erasing fear and old memories, yet still locked within the inquisitor's iron cage. The brown eye that he turns on Verna and on Rocky fairly snap, a sharp counterpoint to the impassivity of scars, rock, and cold metal on the right side of his face. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, and I'm not going to do anything without telling Andelena. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

He grabs the cloak out of the snow at his feet and fastens it at his throat, then grabs his pack.

Verna's grip on Auranar firms slightly and the tension in the rest of her moreso. She considers her next words, perhaps too long. In the end, must make do simply with measured, "We shall hold you to your word, Dolan." Further discussion may best wait until tempers have cooled. At any rate, Verna is still uncertain of her own observations.

Auranar is not so slow to respond. She pulls away from Verna in spite of the woman's tighter grip on her and moves to Dolan's side. The side she knows he can see on. She doesn't want to add surprise to his anger. "Dolan." Her voice is gentle. "Don't go. Not like this. Please. I don't know what's on your mind right now but... please." Even more gentle than her voice is the hand she offers toward him. Her voice lowers even more. "Are you okay? Should... we can talk somewhere else if you need. Just the two of us. Just don't walk away angry okay?"

Rocky chuffs again. A lot he doesn't know. Either trust, or don't. He does.

Dolan completely and utterly ignores Rocky, even turning his back on the sith, but he does, at least, set down his pack. "Since your girlfriend seems to take me for a fool, and the sith-makar who let the man who almost killed me and Andelena go free wants to tell me how to lay my own trap, I don't think I need to be discussing anything right now, thanks. There's a gods-be-damned reason I didn't go with him. We can talk later, Auranar, but I've had just about enough of being fucked with for one day." He places the harness holding the sword over his head, and picks up his pack again.

Verna watches as Auranar finds far better words than she did. This may still be true, and she realizes it. While her mouth opens to possibly offer counterpoint to Dolan, nothing emerges before she closes it again. Best left for another time and most likely for others. She eventually vents a long exhale and turns to look to Rocky, though no further explanation is forthcoming to him, either.

Auranar doesn't try to defend Verna. It's there on her face that she wants to, but she knows better than to say something like that right now. She doesn't know Rocky so that's easier. She licks her lips and takes her hand back. "Okay. We'll talk later. I'll bring some sandwiches by your place and we'll talk. About this, and whatever else you want to talk about." She nods to him and steps back so that she's not remotely blocking his ability to leave.

Rocky chuffs quietly and shrugs. Nothing he can say at this point will improve matters. The words may exist, but saying them is not his to do.

"That's fine." With that, Dolan shakes the snow off of his pack, hefts it, and turns to stride without a word in the direction of Alexandria.

-End