To Bear Fruit

It's a gray and cloudy day in Alexandria, a sort of respite in that Daeus's scalding rays are filtered by the clouds, but the heat and humidity are still quite present. It's what necessitates Cor'lana to wear a light and airy dress as she steps out of her house to look down at her front step.

"I thought I'd heard a knock at the door," she murmurs, before she finds something curious there. A dark feather, like the kind that might come from a raven, a slight glossy sheen to it, sitting there on her front step like it's been intentionally left there.

She takes it up in her hand and observes it for a moment. "Odd," she murmurs. "But harmless." Or so she hopes.

Auranar spots her sister up the street as they - her and Dolan - turn the corner and she waves a hand at the woman. "Cor'lana!" She says, voice chipper but eyes a little dark around the edges. She pulls up closer to the other woman and notices the feather in her hand. Without thinking Auranar goes to grab it, eyeing it suspiciously. "What's this? Where did you get it?"

Clearly someone is on edge.

Dolan trails behind Auranar, in full adventurer's kit, greatsword and all, munching on a half-eaten meat pie. His mouth full, he has nothing to say to the raven feather in Lana's hand, but the direction he's looking in says that he's listening very, very closely. There is no anger - in fact, he looks not displeased in the slightest, but a good look at him under daylight reveals that his color is more than a little off, paler than it should be beneath the surface.

"Auranar! And Brydion!" Cor'lana looks immensely joyed to see them both, but she blinks when Auranar grabs the feather out of her hand. "It was left on the doorstep, it'd seem. I thought I'd heard someone knocking at the front door--but it looks to me that there's nothing magical about it, and I don't see anyone around here hiding with the aid of invisibility." Her subtly glowing eyes would reveal such to her if they did.

Then she quirks her head. "Honestly, I thought maybe I was hearing things. I was in the middle of practicing my scales when I heard the noise--it could have just been the house adjusting in the weather, or it could be Mirabilis and Lily-of-the-Valley playing a little prank on me of some sort."

She finally looks between the two a little more seriously. "You both look a little... how should I put it. Off? May I invite the two of you inside for some tea? Pothy's awake and he'll be happy to see the both of you."

The feather crumples in Auranar's hand and she glances skyward, muttering something under her breath, and nods to her sister. "Yes. Lets get inside." She glances at Dolan. "Do you want any help in Dolan?" She asks this question gently, knowing that he probably doesn't want to admit that he might need help; even if he does.

Indeed, the wild elf looks a bit off. Namely her eyes are red-rimmed and slightly bloodshot. She's dressed in an adventuring outfit like Dolan, and though she's surprisingly clean, the cleanness has an air of newness about it. As if she'd cleaned up before arriving here.

Dolan's attire similarly has that freshly-cleaned look to it, as if it hasn't been that way for very long, and up close, he's walking with a definite hitch in his stride, favoring his right side. It doesn't seem to be bad enough to hinder him, but he's probably feeling it. "Brightest of days, Lana. I brought snacks for the mouth. I think he'll be happy. I hope sugary is all right. I'm okay, Aura," he adds to the end of the greeting, grinning cheekily. "This is more important."

He does, however, enter left-side first and a little carefully, drawing the greatsword and leaving it by the door. He doesn't bother with harness or boots this time, as he usually does. "That feather have some significance?"

Upstairs, Telamon is engrossed in a complex diagram, his brow furrowed with concentration as he sketches out what looks like an eye-crossing array of lines and angles, all annotated with arcane references. He picks up his mug of tea, sips -- and then makes a face. Cold. That's enough to shock him out of his tight focus, and as he murmurs a cantrip to reheat the mug and its contents, he hears familiar voices downstairs.

Coming down the stairs, he smiles, "Dolan, Aura, it's good to see you both!" He's dressed in a light cotton tunic and breeches, and he rakes a hand through his untidy hair. Studying his friend and his sister-by-bond, his dark eyes glint. "I take it this isn't just a social call?"

Cor'lana looks both of them over more broadly as she steps inside, clearing the way for both of them to walk in. "It's a corvid's feather of some kind," she replies to Dolan. "Given my old adventurer's moniker--from _before_ Alexandria decided I was the Temptress--and the fact we have... multiple corvid-inclined members of the family tree, it's a fair guess as to where it's from and what it means."

She smiles brightly as Telamon steps downstairs, but that bright smile is a little short-lived as she points out, "They're dressed like they either intend on a job or have just come back from one."

"Sugary is all right, Brydion!" Pothy calls out from his perennial spot on the living room table, parked by the bowl of honey-roasted peanuts that he adores. "Hello both of you." As polite and sweet as Pothy ever is, it'd appear.

Auranar looks around the room as though half expecting something noisome to jump out of a wayward shadow. She tucks the feather into her pocket and nods to Dolan solemnly. It means something to her. "The Rook." She says, knowing that it'll probably earn her a stalled conversation. "You should sit down Dolan. You look rough."

The wild elf adds a firmer look that says she might be willing to make him sit were he to argue the case with her. Then she takes a breath. "Karan'taara is dead. We just finished burning his body and salting the ashes." She doesn't look happy about it though, even if it is good news. "He was working with someone. And I think I know who." Silently she pulls the feather back out of her pocket; crumpled and broken as it is now.

Sensing that this is a conversation topic with which he has very little familiarity, Dolan chuckles lightly and does as bid, settling down at the new table and setting his knapsack atop it. "Good, Pothy. Just don't _overeat_, yeah? There's supposed to be enough here for everyone. And, brightest of days, Tel. It's like Aura said. I'd say we ushered him to the Halls, but it's more accurate to say we opened the door and kicked him through it."

While he talks, he's unpacking from the knapsack a wrapped basket of what looks like jam-filled pastries, and a few of some white cheese, glistening with icing, fluffy, soft, and a little misshapen from their packing. "Tea'd go well."

The fresco in the living room is nearly complete, a twilight forest with birds-- especially white ravens -- soaring through the skies, and a few fey creatures coyly staring down. As Telamon lets everyone take seats at the dinner table, Auranar's words actually cause him to blink, and the smile freezes -- not in anger but just shock. "Karan'taara? You found that madman? And... he's dead?"

His expression relaxes, and then he snorts. "Well, hells, I guess I'll have to honor that price my family put on his head. We -did- want him gone, after all. I'm glad you two are all right." At the mention of the Rook, though, Tel's mouth curves down again. "...Damn. I'd speculated he was in league with that rat-bastard but I didn't have any proof."

There's a moment where Cor'lana freezes upon hearing the name Karan'taara. She looks for all the world like a woman who might bolt for the door, but then the crucial words come after: 'is dead'.

And she looks at Dolan and Auranar both with wide violet eyes. "He's dead?" she asks quietly. "He's..."

She closes her eyes, draws in a deep breath, and exhales it slowly through her nostrils. Pothy looks at her for a long moment, as though he's trying to figure out if he should come land on her shoulder and give her the feathered cuddles that he's known for. A moment later, she says, "I've dreamed before of disintegrating him for what he did to me. I..."

Her violet eyes well up with tears and she finds a seat, sitting down almost limply in it. "Are you certain that he's in league with the Rook?" she asks quietly, before she turns to look at Dolan. "Or--was. Who sent him to the Halls?" The questions are leaving her quickly now.

Pothy stares longingly at the treats that Dolan unearths from his knapsack. Auranar moves through the room to the table herself. "Dolan killed him." She says, giving full credit for the act to him. Her part in all that had been in the end very minor and she had other things on her mind. "I don't have any firm proof, but this feather and the way that Karan'taara was talking at the end lead me to have my suspicions."

She sits down and the feather begins to smolder. It burns down quickly but with an unpleasant scent and once it's gone she uses just a tiny hint of magic to clean it off the table. Gone. Just like Karan'taara. Without thinking she reaches over and offers her hand to Cor'lana, offering a solid support to the other woman. "I have a plan Cor'lana. Not a good plan. A terrible one in fact, but a plan which might give us the Rook in our hands at last."

"The Knight's justice was done," Dolan counters, setting out the basket and unwrapping the cloth from it. He takes one, but listens to the conversation in silence.

"Brydion--" Cor'lana looks at Dolan for a moment and she sheds a tear as she smiles at him. "Words can't express how happy I am to know that you did it. That you're the one who delivered... justice. I don't need to know details other than that he's gone from this world and that I..."

She shakes her head and squeezes Auranar's hand tightly. "It might be terrible, but us Lupecyll women are good at thinking on our feet," she says. "What is it?"

Auranar's dark eyes burn with intensity. "I want you to be happy. You just got this great news about Karan'taara. Be vibrant in your joy. Then, in a week or so, announce that you've had a happy accident. A child is on the way." She glances here at Telamon briefly, then back to her sister. "Telamon will be ecstatic of course, but we both know there will be whispers. The people of Alexandria love to gossip. If Telamon can play a little... into these rumors. Be a little extra offended. Play a little aloof to you..."

She looks at Cor'lana. "There is one thing that the Corpse Eater loves more than joy; and that's an opportunity to destroy it. We'll give him that chance. He'll come to taunt you. Or offer Telamon his aid. Or to taunt Telamon. He won't be able to resist it. We'll feed him until he's fat as a holiday bird ready to be plucked. Then when he thinks everything is about to crash down around you... We destroy him."

"I know what I'm asking is a lot, that it's a long game... but if we don't do something, he'll find his own crack in our defenses. He'll wait for your children, or their children; and strike when its safe." Auranar wouldn't - couldn't let that happen.

Telamon looks relieved, relieved at how Karan'taara can no longer haunt Lana's nightmares (let alone his own). His hand captures Lana's other, squeezing gently, and he gives Dolan a grim smile. "Once again, Dolan, you've proven to be a friend beyond compare. Thank you."

Listening to Auranar, though, his expression sours again. And he actually flinches a bit. "I... I don't know, Aura," he admits. "It feels like what we tried with Zalgiman, except the Rook is a much cannier, crueler foe. Worse, such a deception... I fear it would wound members of our family who would be -delirious- over the prospect of a child." His eyes drop to the table. "I hate saying these things because you're right on all accounts. The Rook is compelled to ruin joy, and he won't stop with just Lana and I. I just... don't know if I can do this."

Cor'lana looks at Telamon for a moment, and she frowns. "I'm willing," she says, "and while I know that... certain members of our family will be disappointed if they learn that the child's a ruse, they'll also be quite happy to learn that it was in service of destroying the Corpse-Eater once and for all."

She takes a breath. "We can apologize for it later with an actual child," she informs Telamon. "This is different from Zalgiman, Telamon. This is... a relative that has haunted our family tree like a specter for years." Cor'lana squeezes Auranar's hand again a little at the phrase 'our family tree'. "He is _evil_ as they come. Not even Grandfather knows why he does things other than for his own enjoyment. What Zalgiman taught me was to look for a deeper motive beyond why evil does what it does--and the Corpse-Eater has no tragedy that any of us have ever been able to unearth, nothing to suggest anything other than that he consumes the dead and seeks entertainment along the way."

Her eyes are hard things. "I'm perfectly happy to entertain this ruse," she says. "Lure him in. Make him believe he has a chance of turning us against each other. Only to strike when we have a trap for him. Otherwise, Tel, what are we damning our future children to deal with? Can you think of those little girls we've seen in dreams all grown up and sobbing over the bodies of their spouses? _Their_ children? We need to cut out the poisoned root. We owe it to them."

Dolan seems to have been focused on eating, and on sharing with Pothy, munching thoughtfully on a cheese-filled pastry. He chews and swallows when spoken to. "I've said it before, Tel. You and I are long past counting when it comes to debts. If it even begins to tap the surface of what I owe you, I'll be surprised." He snorts quiet laughter. "If by doing the Sunlord's work, I make sure you two sleep easier at night, then I'll take it. So - my pleasure."

Auranar was expecting that there might be some kind of argument against her idea. No idea is perfect, and it will become less perfect when it comes against the opposition. What she's asking is no small thing after all. "I can see what you mean Telamon, and while some might be disappointed to learn the news is false... I can not think of another plan to bring this evil to our hands. If you have _any_ I am eager to hear it be sure. I would love another idea."

She looks haunted by the thought of Telamon and Cor'lana's children. "If I could take it on, I would myself. But no one will believe that Verna has gotten _me_ with child." She smiles a little here. She'd never planned nor wanted children herself, and Verna was in agreement with this fully. Her family will forever be those born of her sister and Telamon.

Telamon stares at the table, not really seeing the fine wood grain. His hand in Lana's, as he silently listens. "I don't want to fail in this," he says softly. "The Rook must be dealt with, lest he haunt our family again and again. I only fear that I'm not good enough to carry it off." He swallows hard. "But we have to. You're right, Lana. I can't condemn our children, or our children's children, to facing this monster. We know what we are up against, we have to destroy him."

He squeezes Lana's hand again, drawing strength from her. "When do we start, Aura? I presume 'right away' so we can keep the bastard fooled, bait him in."

Cor'lana smiles just a little bit at Auranar's remark on Verna, just as her sister does, and she nods. "We should start soon," she says. "Maybe we'll start with an announcement in the Tribune..."

And then she looks to Dolan, and she frowns. "Brydion--has Auranar told you of the Corpse-Eater before?" she asks. "We call him the Rook as well--he takes the form of one when he's spying on others. He's... He's a sick individual, a 'cousin' of my Grandfather who takes his joy in tormenting couples and families, making them turn on each other with the goal of making them kill each other before he..."

She grimaces. "Before he fulfills his name."

Pothy was mid-eat on a pastry that Dolan had given him. He grumbles a little. "Okay, this is the worst time in the world to eat something with a red filling in it," he whines quietly in that boyish voice of his--before he eats anyway.

Auranar looks at Telamon apologetically. "A week or so. For now, relax and enjoy the fruits of having one enemy no longer amidst us. Then... You'll have to keep it up you understand? Every moment. You will not be able to tell anyone else. The more people who know the more risk there is that he'll find out from someone the truth. He's as skilled manipulator. It'll take everything we have to lure him in."

She sighs. "If we could, I would wipe Dolan's memory and mine own so that only you three knew, but that is not possible."

"Aura told me a little, but look." Dolan sighs, his easy good humor and manner now entirely gone. "I ain't able to lie for you. Any of you. Andie tells me I can't lie for shit, and even if I could," he lets out another hard breath, "My vows to the Sunlord ain't gonna let me. I'm committed to His truth, and His justice. I can lead false, I can keep my tongue to myself, but if I'm asked, I ain't gonna be able to lie to a man's face."

Telamon grits his teeth. "I know. I... this is not going to be any fun. But we'll endure it because we -have- to. If we can make this work, bind or destroy him..." He rubs his temples. "I have a trip or two coming up -- that'll help, to an extent. And of course, Lana and I will prop each other up telepathically."

A whimsical expression wanders across Tel's face. "Really, Dolan, I bet you lose a -lot- at cards, not being able to bluff properly." He waves his hand. "Well, one of those trips is with you, so that'll take us out of pocket. In the meantime, though? Don't speak on it at all. In fact..." His eyes narrow. "Simply state it's a family matter for us and leave it at that. That's the truth, after all."

"I wouldn't ask you to do anything that would run counter to your bonds," Lana says gently to Dolan. "Nor would I want you to go head-to-head with this... creature if I can help it."

"I'm a bad liar too," Pothy cuts in with a meaningful look to Dolan. "Watch me. I really, _really_ hate snacks."

It's true. He lies like a child might.

That puts a little snicker into Cor'lana's voice. "Brydion, I don't think Pothy's ever said anything remotely like that before." She seems to welcome the light little reprieve that Pothy offers.

Auranar nods solemnly. "Anyone who isn't Cor'lana or Telamon should certainly say something along the lines of 'it's a family affair'. True, short, to the point. I'll probably say it myself given that I've never been the best liar." She smiles bitterly here and shrugs. "It's what we've got for now. Hopefully it'll bear fruit poisonous to Rooks."

That notion seems to mollify Dolan, whose quirk of a smile returns at Telamon's suggestion, and broadens into open laughter at Pothy's antics. "You lie like me, Pothy." He finishes off the pastry in his hand and leans back, adding, "That I can do. 'Cause it is true. Your baby ain't none of my business."

He seems satisfied with that, then hesitates. "Uh, any of you mind if I take out the eye?" He's using one with a black garnet set into it. "And you were talking about tea earlier."

"I'll guard your eye for you, Brydion," Pothy says _very_ intently. "And it's okay. I don't know if I'll be able to lie about the baby anyway. Although I do like teasing Lana so..."

He stares at Cor'lana. "Maybe that's the next thing I'll learn how to do once I document all of the food tastes in the world. Learn how to lie."

"I really don't think that's what you were intended to do when you were bestowed to Mother's ancestor," Cor'lana responds with a little snicker to Pothy. She looks to Auranar and says, "It'd certainly be nice to have a poisonous little tree for our Rook to eat from, wouldn't it?"

"Lana, I'm eating fruit over here," Pothy complains. "Get some tea for Brydion! He's dying of thirst! Err, the kind for tea, not the kind that Lily-of-the-Valley's got!"

And so a plot's planted in the ground, hoping to soon bear fruit.

-End