To Bring More Than a Message
Log Info
- Title: To Bring More Than a Message
- Place: Shining Chalice Meeting House
- Summary: Rune delivers a message to Telamon, and receives far more in return.
Shining Chalice meeting house, midday
The meeting house for the Shining Chalice is a tidy townhouse, perched on the border between the noble district and the university district in Alexandria. It's a cozy, almost quaint affair, adorned with a sign simply depicted a chalice in silver, and the softly-glowing mage-lights flanking the door. With winter unwilling to release its grasp on Ea just yet, the smoke issuing from its chimney is a sure sign someone's at home.
Inside, Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, proctor of the Shining Chalice, is wrapping up some last-minute affairs for a member about to go on a journey. "I'm sorry to see you go, Master Tomas," he says, standing up from the table and shaking the younger man's hand. "I know what it's like to want to try and learn more. But take care of yourself."
Tomas, a young lad of perhaps fifteen summers with a wild, spiky mane of red and gold hair, returns the handshake. "I know, Master Telamon. But this might be a way to, well, get a jump on what my magic entails." The young man pauses. "Thank you, though. For all the advice -- both magical and otherwise."
While winter certainly has not given up the strangle hold on Ea, the crisp wind is a far change from sleet and snow that have made up much of Rune's travels. Once inside the city, it hadn't been a great trial to track down the location that Lady Cor'lana had indicated as a likely place to find her target: Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon.
There is a slight wrap of knuckles on the door before the messenger steps in, making sure that she isn't showing up completely unexpected. The hooded figure has enough tact to not interrupt the conversation between the two inside, though she inclines her head briefly to both, giving a polite amount of time before speaking.
"I'm terribly sorry to intrude. I have a missive to deliver." For the time being, Rune seems to play on the side of caution. Afterall, the letter had the direct instructions to be for the eyes of Telamon and no others. With the young man, Tomas, still in presence, she doesn't produce it, not yet. Instead, she pulls her hood down, revealing Half-sil features, soft freckles on her cheeks and a tattoo that is only slightly visible on her right side.
Telamon's eyes snap up, and for a split second there's something blank and perhaps a little frightening in his stare. Then it's gone again, and the elegant half-elf lays a hand on Tomas's arm. "I see," Telamon replies. Dressed as he is in his usual ruffled white silk blouse over black trousers and boots, he really doesn't look like anyone's idea of a sorcerer. "And who might this missive be for?"
Tomas quite casually takes a few steps away from Telamon, hands behind his back, the younger man also showing a distinctly good poker face.
A hint of hesitation follows that stare that is leveled in her direction. Rune meets those eyes, but other than a brief uncertainty, she seems to not falter too much under that gaze. "I've instructions to deliver a sealed letter to Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, for his eyes only and no others." One dark eyebrow is quirked ever so slightly. "I had the pleasure of meeting Lady Cor'lana the other evening at the Fernwood, and she told me that I could find him here."
Her own blue eyes look between the two of them, but in the end it is Telamon that she settles on, likely identifying him by dress and attitude as a senior member of the housed organization.
The ominous tension seems to instantly evaporate, and suddenly Rune is no longer confronted by two suspicious sorcerers. Telamon's expression lightens, and he tilts his head slightly, before nodding. "I see." He smiles at Tomas. "Alright, Tomas. You've got some packing to do, so off with you. Send a letter, and if things get out of hand don't be afraid to look for help."
"Absolutely, sir." With that, the young Tomas heads out, leaving Rune alone with Telamon. Once the younger fellow has departed, Tel turns his eyes to Rune again. "Sorry about that. I've had some... troubles in the past, and people coming in 'with a special delivery' are not always bringing the mail." He takes a breath. "But, as it were: I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, and so I presume you've a message for me, miss...?" His eyebrow rises fractionally, inviting an introduction.
There is something almost courtly about the way the darkly dressed messenger waits. Someone certainly had trained her in some manner, despite her appearance looking quite contrary to the demeanor. "It's... understandable." Rune replies, the corner of her lip lifting in a show of slight amusement. "From what I've heard, those who reside here are quite powerful with magic. I wouldn't dare try my hand at anything nefarious. I tend not to try to make enemies of those who could turn me into a crispy critter with a flick of the hand."
With the confirmation that he is, indeed, the man she is looking for, Rune inclines her head, "Leirune Theran. Though I prefer Rune, these days." The name may be vaguely familiar, and she elaborates to fill in any potential blanks, "Your father and mine have worked together from time to time. I just happened to be on the way in from the Mythwood so your father asked me to carry this."
Rune reaches beneath her robe and pulls out a scroll case, one of the fancy, water-proof kind. With the weather they have been having lately, it was probably a good idea. With delicate fingers, she offers it out.
"There's always a first time. And even with the city wards, there's always someone trying to play with things they shouldn't." Telamon regards Rune now with a calm, measuring stare -- very similar to his father's. "Leirune Theran. I think... yes, you were attached to Benvarius as a courier." He regards the scroll-case with a careful gaze, his eyes raking over it before taking it.
"Ben is in town now, handling the negotiations over the Mythwood-Alexandria alliance and arranging for a more permanent diplomatic mission here. Father was called back for... family obligations." Tel's expression becomes faintly sardonic, as he unseals the scroll-case. "For my part, I'm suddenly learning why mages develop spells for translocation or simulacrums."
"I've had my fair share of bad experiences on the receiving end of magic." Rune admits, her own expressions a bit more open in that regard. When she speaks of it, her blue eyes flick away momentarily, a sign of discomfort. "But... I respect those with the gift for it. It's just never been my gift."
Looking back to Telamon, there is a nod of her head, "Mmm... courier work isn't bad. Safer than fighting monsters and decent enough coin when when you have the right customers. The sort who know you can be discreet." The scroll's case looks to be in good condition, with no signs of being tampered with, whatsoever. "My father doesn't leave Ylvaliel, thankfully. He doesn't know I run errands for your family and I'd prefer to keep it that way."
There is a subtle, curious tilt of her head, though. "What would you use those sort of spells for?"
Telamon deftly opens the scroll-case with practiced fingers -- he's done this before, clearly -- and extracts the papers inside. He begins to read, his eyes flicking back and forth, eyebrows coming together for a moment. His lips tighten into a thin line, and he exhales, before going to the next sheet. This one seems to please him a little more, and he flicks his eyes up to Rune again.
"Well, Leirune, you'll be pleased to hear my father vouches for you, and also included certain phrases so I know it's not a forgery." His eyes twinkle slyly. "But he did say you were reliable, skilled, and discreet. So I assure you there will be plenty of work here in Alexandria -- if not at my behest, then a host of others." He rolls the letters up, putting them back into the case and closing it before dropping the case into a haversack hanging off his belt.
While Rune may have had no inclination of what was within the sealed set of documents, she does respond to the words with a slight nod of the head. "I see." She doesn't press the matter of strange spells and their uses and instead simply sticks to the matter at hand. "People with my sort of skills aren't always on the straight and narrow." Rune admits, "But I try to lend them out for good reasons, at least these days."
Lifting her shoulders slightly, the Half-sil smirks in a way that makes her features seem younger at a glance. "If there's anything you, your lady, or your house need that I can assit with, feel free to let me know. I think your lady said it best the other evening. We Half-sil have to look out for one another, the world doesn't always look out for us."
Telamon arches an eyebrow. "Skills are skills, Rune. What matters is how you use them. Magic is the same way -- in the hands of a good person, it's a blessing, and in the hands of a bad one, well... best not to dwell on it too much." He makes an effort to shift his line of thought. "To answer an earlier question: teleportation opens the world to you. Literally. Ever wanted to visit the Jade Islands? Stormgarde? Am'shere -- without using the portal? And be back for supper?" He grins impishly. "I've had to transport a few friends here and there."
"And as for clones and simulacrums... it's the whole 'being in two places at once'. Though honestly, I've no desire to explore that magic. Too many bad memories from seeing it misused."
At Rune's comment about 'looking out for each other', Tel blinks. "Interesting. I used that exact turn of phrase when I met Lana. It's true, though. We're children of two worlds, and in my experience the best-adjusted ones try not to be 'too' elven or 'too' human. Take what's best from both, and forge your own path."
"Fair." Rune replies, shifting her weight slightly. "I've been on the receiving end of magic in the hands of a bad person. Let's just say it's not an experience I wish to repeat anytime soon." She doesn't elaborate on that particular topic, at least not at the moment.
Instead, her eyes widen at the prospect of such ease of travel. "It would certainly put me out of a job, if everone could do that. Well, one job, anyways." Rune has a number of ways of keeping herself fed, it seems. "So I'm glad it isn't particularly a common gift. And honestly, there are some people that one is plenty."
Rune's expression softens ever so slightly. "When your lady mentioned it the other evening, it stuck with me. I haven't been back to Alexandros in a few years now, so it might be good to make some allies along the way. There are enough threats out there that it's good when you can find people to trust."
"I understand. Magic can be... unnerving. I try to put mine to constructive uses -- sometimes fairly mundane ones." Telamon grins at the thought. "Nothing like shoveling the walk in front of your house without using the shovel."
"I wouldn't worry about it. Even teleportation circles are finicky and difficult to set up. And teleportation itself is a complex spell, so... no, I suspect horse and airship will be with us for quite a while."
He places his hands together. "Allies are easy to find. It's -friends- that I usually seek. Companions, people I'll share a cup of tea with as well as stand shoulder to shoulder. The arvek nar have a marvelous saying about it: friends help you move, but real friends help you move the bodies."
"Makes me glad I don't have a walk to shovel." Rune offers a different way of looking at it. "Haven't really had any place to call home since leaving Ylvaliel, but there's good in that, too." Her lips form into a smile, "Seeing new places, experiencing new things, meeting new people. But... I think there's enough happening around here to keep my hands full for a while, at least."
The Arvek Nar saying actually breaks a laugh out of the Half-Sil as she shakes her head, blue-tipped dark strands shifting across her face before she lifts a hand to tuck a few behind one tipped ear. "It's a good saying. I know well enough that friendship is something earned." She reaches for a flask at her belt, uncorks it and takes a drink, then seems to tip it to him in toast. "Let's call this step one, and maybe tea for next time." Rune smirks, "Do you have a favorite? I'll see if I can track some down."
Telamon taps his fingertips together. "I used to think so, that I'd be on the road for much of my life. But then I met Lana, and, well..." His expression becomes almost ridiculously happy. "Life does like to throw unexpected twists, but it was definitely a welcome one."
"Look, Rune, if you need a friend, I've always welcomed those of good heart who need a place to recover. I didn't set out to found some kind of refuge against the slings and arrows of fate, but it seems that's part of my life. So if you're in need of a cup of tea or a listening ear, you can find Lana and I and our family in the University District." He scribbles down the address. "Honestly, we usually go in for a lavender-mint blend. I grow some of it in my backyard garden. But I recommend Twilling's, he's got an excellent selection."
That softer expression lingers in Rune's features, seeming to understand just how some people can change the course of a person's life. It's at that point that there is a hint of sadness that enters her eyes, but it seems to be gone as quickly as it came. "Those connections are what life is all about. It's good that you found each other."
Surprise takes over as he offers out the address. It seems likely that Rune hasn't had many people she could depend on as of late and the offer comes as a bit of a shock. Still, she accepts it, giving a brief nod of acceptance and an uncertain look. "Thanks... I..." She starts and then shakes her head, "It would be good to have some friends, but I don't want to impose too much. You've got your hands full." She motions around them.
"Maybe I'll ask Harkashan for his suggestions on teas. He's..." She seems to be considering how to explain her companion. "He's one of those Makari death-singers. Strange sort, but a good heart. Knows a lot about herbs and plants and the like, so I'm sure he'd have some interesting suggestions for unusual teas."
His eyes dance and twinkle, filled with tiny stars. "Why do people think it's an imposition? I am happy to offer hospitality, a place to sit and rest. I grant, it's an unusual place, and sometimes it's crowded, but it's a place modeled after my own family -- one that I want to build for Lana and myself. Messy and imperfect, but happy and full of joy all the same."
Telamon grins, "Besides, father would kill me if I didn't at least show you some courtesy. He clearly trusts you, and so... you're kind of stuck with at least one new friend."
Tel nods at the mention of makari. "The mind of a sith-makari can be very different from ours. I've known more than a few and they're good people, but they don't always see it the way we would. So you have to learn to adjust your perspective. Studying the Draconic language helps, though."
Rune tips her head slightly, her expression quizzical, "Perhaps not everyone is quite so inviting. Though I do appreciate it. In some ways, how you describe it reminds me of our place back before my mother passed. She was a storyteller, so we'd always have all sorts around." The smile that finds her features is genuine, "If you can manage even a fraction of that, then I'm sure you'll make a place that many feel welcome. And hopefully safe from draconic topiary. I was amazed that both Sloan and Lana had stories of such oddities. Things really have gotten strange around here, haven't they?"
Tucking away her flask, the Half-Sil chuckles to herself, "My mother actually taught me Draconic when I was still a girl. Spent a fair bit of time there a couple of years ago. It's actually how I met Harkashan in the first place. I've been trying to trace back my mother's travels before she settled in Ylvaliel. Haven't been the most successful, but spending time among the Makari is eye-opening."
"Oh, it's just a different kind of oddity in our household. But at least it's friendly." Telamon's smile is warm and welcoming. He nods soberly at Rune's mention of her mother. "There were some... complications with Lana's family. I'm not really at liberty to lay them all out but suffice to say that one of my motivations has been to make sure she'll have a family who genuinely loves her."
"It's an interesting language," Telamon remarks. "I speak it myself, though I've been told my accent is... squeaky. High pitched. Evidently I don't pitch my voice low enough. I've always had a knack for languages, and father -really- wants me to enter the diplomatic corps when I'm done being a footloose adventurer."
Raising a hand, Rune makes it clear that she has no intentions of prying into the complications of family. "It's good that she has people who love her. I can tell by the way you talk about each other that it runs deep."
She might have left it there, but its seems even that other topic comes around to family, yet again. "My father wanted me to become a scribe in one of the Elven libraries. I'm good at it, but I'm too much my mother's daughter to be happy with that life, you know?" Even from the small bit she had mentioned, her mother seemed like a more lively, adventurous sort.
Then, with a laugh, she wonders, "I'll have to ask Hark how bad my accent is. I know I don't have the bulk to get the proper resonance. Most times I'm around the Makari, it feels like being a sapling among trees." Most of them are quite tall...
Telamon lets the delicate matters of family drop. There'll be enough time to discuss it, later. "Suffice to say that Lana and I ... did not expect to find each other. But when we did, well... we wonder how it could've been any other way."
At the mention of huge makari, Tel laughs. "Oh, yes, I know that feeling. I've a friend, Skielstregar, and he is quite the fellow. As big as a jotunn." He rubs his chin. "Though I have met some smaller makari -- unusually so. Well, I suppose there's always outliers. For all I know they are barely grown."
"Sometimes there are threads of fate that tie us to one another." Rune suggests. "Or so I've been told." She raises one wrist where a leather cord is circled, lightly tugging on the strands. "I'm starting to think there's some wisdom to it."
As he describes his Makari friend, there is a look of recognition that passes her features. "Ahh, the warrior with the strange aura. I met him in Mictlan. I think he might have been heading here. Apparently a number of the Makari are looking for a blue-scaled one with no limbs on one side with a name I'm not going to repeat because frankly, I find it cruel." Her brows furrow.
"Hm. Maybe. I've always been mixed on that sort of thing. On one hand I know the future isn't set, but it can be... planned for. To use an analogy: to palm a card at a crucial moment." Telamon's expression is quizzical. "Then again, I have friends who have told me that what binds Lana and I is more than just love." He runs a fingertip along the marking along the back of his left hand, the feathers encircling the trio of stars.
"Blue scales, missing limbs -- wait. I know a makari with blue scales but he has crystalline limbs. He calls himself Zeke, he's a priest at the Temple of Daeus." He frowns. "I hope there's no trouble. I owe him a certain amount of gratitude for helping tend to a friend of mine."
The movement is enough to draw Rune's eyes to the marking, giving it a curious look. "If it were as simple as palming a card, that I could manage." She flicks a coin out, then does a simple visual trick to make it look as if it had vanished. It is the sort of thing that could fool some people, though others would easily see through it. "The soothsayers haven't been exactly clear, but they rarely are."
Her brows lift as this little matter of fate has brought her to someone who knows who the missing blue-scaled one is. Coincidence? Perhaps. "Zeke." There is some relief to the name that Telamon provides. "I'll take that over the Draconic name." Rune lets out a breath. "No, not so much trouble. His nest-mother is in Mictlan and she's trying to send others to bring him back. She thinks he a broken thing that needs to be protected and cottled." She lifts her gaze to the sorcerer, "I had a guess that he doesn't need nor want to be treated like a child who needs their mother to protect them. Am I right?"
"It's never -that- simple. It's an allegory, not a guide." Telamon makes a face. "A mentor of mine explained it more as figuring your chances and then playing to the best outcome. Which... I suppose is how life can be, too. Honestly, from my own experiences? Don't rely on soothsayers and fortune tellers too much. Try to make your own luck."
At Rune's explanation, though, Telamon's expression becomes icy. "'Broken'. Really. I watched this man tend to my friend, who was horribly injured. He is brave and kind and I respect him deeply for it." He takes a deep breath, mastering his temper. "No. I do not believe he is in any need to be coddled." He barks out a small laugh. "Indeed, he seems to have a knack for mothering, judging from his work."
Rune's eyes find their way back to the marking on Telamon's hand, lingering there for probably longer than is strictly polite. It is a thing of beauty, but it also seems to have a greater meaning behind it that escapes her, at least for now. Shaking her head free of wandering thoughts, the messenger agrees, "I know, but it can be terribly frustrating when people think they know something about you. Who you are, who you'll be, something you'll do. And then they don't tell you anything other than cryptic nonsense." She blows a few strands of hair out of her eyes in frustration of that.
The shift in his expression has the girl taking a half-step backwards, perhaps picking up on the danger that could come from rousing a magician's wrath. "Not my words, friend." She offers, raising her hands in peace. "His mother. She named him 'Maksurwarayuslih'." This has Rune's hands clenching, her own distaste at the name evident in her body language. "How could anyone call their child something so horrific? It makes me sick."
Telamon takes another deep breath, and then tilts his head. As if listening to a tune only he can hear. That sense of danger fades again. "I beg your pardon, Rune. My... emotions run strong, and I don't lightly bear insults to my friends and family. I can live with insults to myself." He smirks faintly.
He walks around the table, thinking. "His -mother- called him that?" He's too startled to be angry. "Gods and stars, that's just -asking- for a punch in the snout." He rubs his face. "Alright. Alright. I'm letting my heart drag me around instead of using my head. Who else knows of this?"
"Sometimes, a person's heart is all they have. You have the right to feel as strongly as your heart calls for." Rune replies, dismissing the appology with a shake of her head. "Just so long as lash it out at the people who deserve it."
The messenger nods her head once, confirming the identity of the one who gave Zeke such a foul name. "I met her in Mictlan, her name is Nonantziné. She was begging aid from a blue-scaled Makari named Tlanexhuani, asking him to bring her son back. She wants to return him to Am'shere." Rune explains. "Skielstregar was there as well. I followed the tow out into the woods, but I lost track of them. It was pissing sleet outside and they must have doubled-back. I'm not sure who all else knows."
Telamon shakes his head. "Maybe. But sometimes you need to think with your head first, before letting your heart take the reins." He lightly runs his fingertips along the tabletop, focusing. "Alright. Hopefully Skiel's let Zeke know, but I think a visit to the temple is in order. Maybe I've been reading too many novels in my off-time, but someone who calls their son -that-..."
His fingers curl into a fist again, before relaxing.
"Well, they might not think twice at trying to kidnap him. Though Zeke is a priest of Daeus, and no mere acolyte. Might be like chasing a cat and running into a lion."
"I actually hope I can meet him someday. Anyone who can rise up from ... that. Well, they must be something special." Rune replies, pulling lightly at one edge of her cloak. "For now, I should leave you to your work." She pauses, and then bows her head forward, her blue-tipped hair dangling in front of her eyes. "Thank you, for everything. If you need anything, I'm not too hard to find." She smirks, "Unless I don't want to be found." With that, Rune pulls her hood back up, neatly hiding her heritage in the same gesture.
The half-elven sorcerer chuckles. "As I said, Zeke works at the temple of Daeus. You can probably find him there." He straightens his shoulders. "In any case, I intend to seek out some friends first. Speak to them about this... mother... and see if they have any counsel before I go charging in."
As Rune raises her hood, Tel looks at her curiously. "You know, Rune, you don't have to hide who you are here. The half-elven are not unwelcome in Alexandria. I don't know what you've been through before, but here... there's a lot more interest in your deeds and actions."
He offers a charming smile. "Please, think on it."