Fresh Berries and the Nature of Things

Fate's Spire, evening

The lonely road is even more so at night, and with Winter already breathing its chill breath Alexandria's way, no one is travelling that does not need to, or who are well insulated.

Inside the monastery, the atmosphere is cheerful and bright. The foyer has numerous guests, huddled by the fireplace, having a laugh while reading from what appears to be a travelogue.

The spine reads: Other Countries are Weird.

A few travelers are settled at a table, enjoying a late dinner of chicken soup, bread and ale.

Deeper inside, the place is cooler, but not uncomfortably so, though the cell area is slightly warmer. Simony's door is slightly ajar, and the sounds of the Goblin can be heard within. A bawdy pub song, though a sanitized version, and judging from the words, likely unintentional. It is obvious she doesn't know the words, except for the chorus (where most of the swearing is present). Then, the sound of a tea kettle whistling interrupts, and she falls quiet.

It's easy to gain access to the monastery when you're a well-respected pillar of the community, a mentor of the Shining Chalice, an accredited archmage -- and all three at once. Telamon strides through the foyer, dressed quite casually -- ruffled white silk long-sleeved blouse over leather trousers and black boots with intricate traceries in silver thread on them. He's escorted by a floating disk, which is carrying a couple of handkegs, tightly closed.

He knows the way, of course, and waves off the acolytes that approach. "She's expecting me," he says with aplomb, and walks down the hall to the cells proper. His lips curl up at the sound of singing and the whistle of the kettle, and he picks up his pace.

Stopping to knock at the door, he calls, "Simony, 'tis Telamon! Are you receiving visitors?"

There's a gasp from inside, and then a sudden clatter of noise. Things being moved, perhaps put away, a broom being quickly run across the floor, and a few more, quieter, furtive noises.

The door's opened wide, to admit the Half-sil, though he is immediately hugged at by a pajama'd Goblin with wet hair. "Tel! Come in, come in! I've just got some water done boiling, and was about to make some tea." Her eyes drift to the floating disk, and the kegs upon it.

"Oooh, that's a neat spell. Such a handy thing!"

After ushering Telamon inside, the door's shut quietly, and she gestures to her table and chairs. "Make yourself comfortable while I get the tea steeping. So what brings you by? And how're you and Lana doing? Are all the little fairies doing okay, with the cold weather setting in?"

Telamon hugs Simony back happily, as he grins. "Good to see you again. The weather's definitely turning harsher now. Oh, this?" He looks at the disk which has followed him inside. "Nothing special," he says with a self-depreciating air. With a grunt, he hoists one keg off it, followed by the other. "But it's useful for hauling things around. Like fish."

He chuckles. "We're doing all right. Everyone's getting dug in for the winter. The pixies are happily growing the indoor plants, the fire is stoked, and there's food on the table. What more can one ask for?" His eyes twinkle merrily, with a touch of mischievousness. "Though now I've found some new experiments to while away the winter months." He gestures to the small handkegs. "Open them."

"What you think is nothing special, is pretty amazing to others, Telamon.", Simony says cheerfully. Hot water is poured into a teapot, and a small, round metal object is tossed inside. The teapot, a couple of mugs, and a small tea service is set down upon the table. "A few minutes and we can fill ourselves with hot tea. Take a bit of the cold's edge off.. er, well, if you've even noticed the temperature." The Gobbo grins cheekily, and looks to the barrels. "What more could you ask for? Uhm, a short, Goblin guest for the winter?" She giggles and moves to one of the kegs, and with a flash of pale lightly, she pulls the top off and peers inside. Her nose wrinkles as she sniffs. Pulling a small, red berry out of the keg, she pops it into her mouth. The sour-sweet flavour has her making a face. "Mmmmh!" The other keg is opened quickly. "Ooh, blueberries!" A handful of the berries are popped into her mouth, and she chews noisily. "Mmph. Fresh. How did you get fresh fruit in Autumn?"

"How far did you go to get these?"

Telamon takes a seat as he dismisses the disk, watching as Simony sets the tea to steeping and opens up the kegs. "Maybe it's a reflection of how far I've come," he says contemplatively. "I know only a few years ago I could barely muster enough magic beyond cantrips. And now... hmm. Worth some thought there." Tel rubs his chin.

"But to get to your question... my backyard. See, a few days ago I received a package from my uncle, Telgari. He's a druid, monitors the Mythwood forest, though he's been staying closer to home these days since he found out he had a daughter he didn't know about." His lips quirk up. "He sent me these boots," and indeed, Telamon's boots are different. These are dark leather like his silver-buckled ones, but there's intricate traceries of trees on them in silver thread.

The Goblin takes a handful of raspberries, and pops them into her mouth, the sour face returning as she munches on them. "Mmmph. These are good." She nods in agreement. "I suppose it's a sign of your achievements. I hope I'll be able to reach for the heights you're at, and be able to look back and recognize how far I've gone."

Simony blinks a few times. "You're backyard? But I thought you shut down the greenhouse for the winter. How..a' His boots are inspected closely. "Had a daughter he didn't know about? This, somehow, does not surprise me. But uhm... how do shiny new boots turn into two kegs of berries?"

He can't help it. He wiggles his fingers in the air, and says, "Maaaa-gic." A long pause, before he snickers again. "Alright, alright. So the boots themselves are magical. Uncle Telgari sent along an explanation. Three times a day, I can grow trees or bushes where I'm standing -- always with fruit or berries. While the vegetation vanishes after behind harvested, the fruit remains."

Telamon looks faintly wry. "It was a bit of a struggle to convince Pothy to let me pack some in a keg to you as a gift. He was -very- enthused at the prospect of fresh fruits or berries as needed."

"Aww, Telamon, well thank you very much! Goodness, I don't think I could eat this many in a short time, not without consequences! It's okay if I share? I know the cook here will be overjoyed with fresh fruit." Tea is poured into two mugs. "Would you like cream and sugar?"

"So uhm, I've got a question or two for you. I uhm... was on a recent mission to one of the Navosian monasteries, one we affectionately call the Bookshelf, on the account of having a most excellent library.

She rubs at her chin, moving to take another handful of the raspberries, and popping a few into her mouth. "Mmh, would you like a few berries too?" Letting out a breath, she continues.

"So, for reasons not entirely clear to me, a bearded devil showed up to taunt, tease or tempt the priests there. And instead, found himself challenged to read even one book. He uhm apparently changed, became passive, allowed himself to be disarmed, and started reading voraciously. A book caused a devil to stray from his path. I'm still not sure I believe it, he's got to be lying... but, hmmm..."

"He told us the source of the undead that had been plaguing the monastery, his two brothers. Auranar, Magpie and I beat one to death, while embarrassing the other so badly, he retreated whence he came. But.. the devil in the cell.. remains passive, and allowed himself to be shipped to a safer, more remote place."

Telamon nods happily. "It's a blessing to share. I find I'm less interested in keeping the bounty to myself, and instead prefer to share it with others." He grins. "Zeke and a friend of his came by and they were very puzzled that I had fresh fruit to offer them." At her offer, he nods. "Please, and thank you."

Once the mug is passed over to him, he reaches out at Simony's offer to take a few berries, popping one in his mouth and chewing. Listening to her tale, his brow furrows thoughtfully, but he doesn't interject until she pauses. "Hm. Curious. Improbable. Bearded devils are not known for their 'long-con' games, though -- and allowing himself to be disarmed is... curious indeed. What was your question, though?"

"It is possible something that is most assuredly evil to .. change, and become good?", she wonders of the man. "I ask you, because you uhm are a bit more worldly, and aren't as hmm... tilted as some religious folk might be. I try to keep an open mind, but even I rail at the possibility."

Simony drops a couple of sugar cubes into each mug, and then just enough cream to change the deep red into a softer shade.

"It is really bothering me. Have... have I been unfair to demons and their ilk all this time?"

"Well, nothing is -impossible-, Simony. That being said..." Telamon mulls the question over, sipping from his tea. "No, I don't think you have, and I'll tell you why. If someone seeks redemption, they have to be the ones to change. Fiends are usually uninclined to do so -- the fact one did is not necessarily proof they are ripe for doing so. Mortals change and grow, immortals much less."

Telamon looks into his tea, considering. "After that final battle against Marsward Seraquoix, we all gathered together, including Tanith, to eat a quiet meal and discuss what might lie ahead. Since the totems had all crumbled to dust, we wondered -- would Caracoroth rise, would he devour the world? The truth, however, was more complex."

The Goblin follows suit, sipping at her tea while listening to the sorcerer speak. "It just.. seems impossible. He went there to play at some mischief, and reads a few books and changes? I mean, we mortals seem to change our minds at the drop of a hat, as you say, we change and grow. And ... how wold an angel fall?"

Another sip of tea is had, and her hand finds the raspberry keg, snagging a full handful, which she drops onto the tabletop to share with Telamon. Popping a few into her mouth, she takes a sip of tea at the same time. "Mmmmmh."

"So... how complex was it?"

Telamon considers his words, before responding. "Because something is -improbable-, does not make it -impossible-. Those who dwell outside Ea -- fiends, elementals, jinn, celestials -- their existence is bound up in their very nature. Who they are is what they do, and vice-versa. They cannot change -- because doing so risks changing themselves, fundamentally."

"That was what happened to Caracoroth. As the Nightmare. He was chained, caged, unable to escape. But if he -changed-... he would no longer be bound. Consider a druid caught in a bear-trap; if he transforms into something else, he can free himself. But unlike the druid, this change would be far more enduring."

Telamon's eyes fix on Simony's. "I suspect this fiend had started to drift prior to this. And the challenge of the monks -- a thin wedge inserted into that crack in his villainy. You'd said he had discarded his infernal glaive -- had anything else changed?"

"So a mortal's advantage is that they can change yet remain themselves? They are themselves plus the change?" Simony taps at her chin, popping a few more raspberries into her mouth. "Mmmph. That would make sense, I mean, we jail people who do bad things, and the hope is that they will change." She's not entirely happy there, but she shrugs faintly. "I'll continue to ponder things for a time."

The Gobbo hrmmms, "I think there were some physical changes too, he uh his skin seemed different from his brothers'. And uh, they had one person guarding him, and they allowed him to free peruse the library at night after all the visitors have left or gone to their beds. He did not seem interested in causing a fuss, which... well, has to be out of character for a devil, yes?"

"Say rather, mortals are used to changing. We change every day. You aren't the same person you were a day ago, and I'm -certainly- not the same person I was a year ago." Telamon casually swipes a few raspberries. "And what is the Iron Hells, if not the prison for the greatest convict of all: Maugrim Bauglir? But to get back to the argument at hand."

"His essence was probably in flux. He could backslide, fall back into his ways. Or reach a point of no return -- at which he would cease to be a fiend. He would be transformed -- into what, I couldn't tell you. But what he -was- would be as dead as if you'd split his skull open with Spider Masher."

The Goblin snorts, "I used my spiritual weapon on his brother. Beat the tar out of him, and I have to admit, it felt pretty good. But him? I felt only ... pity? A little sadness. We'll see if the change is permanent. I really hope the abbot knows what he is doing. They hope a more remote place will be safer for everyone involved. It seems to me to be just making it more difficult for help to arrive in a timely fashion."

A few more raspberries face their doom in the jaws of Simony, and she sighs. "I honestly pray that it works out well. I ... kind of want to be wrong, you know? But I fear my first instinct will be shown as the correct one... kill him immediately."

Telamon shakes his head. "I understand that feeling. And honestly, this is an unusual situation -- one that should be treated with caution. But I dislike having my first response being 'kill it', especially when I have other tools at my disposal." He tilts his head. "Disliking fiends is normal -- they exist, after all, to ruin the good works of the gods."

He munches on a few blueberries. "I hope it works out as well. Celestials can fall, sadly; if fiends can find redemption, it would at least be some form of cosmic reassurance that there is a balance to things. As far as confining him somewhere remote... consider that he is dangerous, his 'brothers' might seek to reclaim him still, and even more orthodox clergy might take offense. Treating him like an unstable explosive might be a good idea."

"Well... if there were a creature that ought to be killed on sight, a fiend is a fitting choice, don't you think? And... well, perhaps it is a bit inflexible, but I am a clergy member after all. But I think I have more ire for those who summon these beasts to our plane of existence. Not that I would want them to die, but, well... they need a paddling at the very least."

She rests her chin upon her hand. "So... do you get a choice at what berries or trees appear? Can you just throw down some dirt, and strut yourself stuff in those boots?"

"Ninety-nine times out of a hundred? Probably. It's that last one that confuses the issue." Telamon scratches his chin. "But honestly, unless the fiend is distinctly nonhostile and proving it? Send them back to the Hells. They're not supposed to be out anyways. Same thing with undead. There's a very, very small handful of phenomena that aren't hostile -- shades, remnants, that sort of thing. But nobody's going to think twice about turning a zombie into ash."

He hmms at the question. "It does seem to draw influence from my thoughts. But the growths don't seem limited by needing earth. They'll actually grow on stone floors, which is very strange. Doesn't damage the flooring, either."

Simony goes quiet, contemplative, and sits peering at her tea, a pinky finger-claw tapping at the mug. A few berries are consumed while she is quiet. "Have uh you used up all three uses today?", she wonders. "I've had this craving for bananas and uh, well, there's a nice stone floor under our feet." The Gobbo's eyebrows wiggle mischievously.

Telamon raises his eyebrows. "I haven't, but ah..." he looks around. "You sure you want me to do it in here? Might be a little crowded. But it's up to you." He finishes his tea, before standing up... moving the chair back and out of the way. "I'll be honest, I had expected I'd be called upon to teleport places to get exotic foods for Pothy -- or Lana. Didn't think I could deal with it by just clicking my heels together."

"Yes!", she lets out exuberantly. Her tea is polished off, and then chairs, the table and a few smaller pieces of furniture are moved away from the center of the room. Simony laughs, "Clicking your heels together? Pffff. Well, I am happy that you're willing to do this for me. I'll bring you some banana bread later. Have you heard of it before? My mother would make it whenever she could find bananas in the markets."

He chuckles. "Alright then." He paces out a section -- about five by five -- making sure it's clear. "Here we go." Telamon takes a deep breath, evidently fixing something in his mind's eye, before saying, "Eranum!" and clicking his heels together.

There's the crackle of magic, and suddenly green starts sprouting out of the stone floor. It doesn't damage it, but it's growing out of it all the same, rapidly, as a trio of stalks push upwards. Rapidly growing and expanding, reaching the ceiling quickly and partly obscuring Telamon from view, as the large leaves open up, and clusters of bananas emerge, shifting from green to yellow, ready to be picked. After a moment, Telamon makes his way out of the tiny stand of banana plants, looking back in amusement. "Well... I think you've got enough for some banana bread there."

She gasps at the suddenness of it, and takes a few steps back lest they sweep her up towards the ceiling. Hopping up and down, and clapping, Simony laughs. "That is so freakish yet amazing. So uh, they'll go away once I get all the fruit?" A chair is dragged to the base of the tress, and she being down some of the banana bunches.

"Thanks a bunch, Telamon!", the Gobbo says, with a cackle.

Telamon nods. "The trees vanish once you've collected all the fruit off them. So no worries about someone asking why there's a tree stand in your room." He pauses. "Don't hang anything off them, either. Uncle said something about they'd also disappear in one day, so you can't leave one fruit unpicked. Can't get away with anything with magic, it seems."

The half-elf begins helping harvest the bananas, and there are quite a few. "That being said, this is -really- handy, and a good treat for when dried fruit or pickled vegetables get a little old." A pause. "Hmm. I wonder if you could grow vegetables as well as fruit trees with this. I'll have to experiment further."

"Well.. technically tomatoes, peppers and eggplants are fruit. So in your experimentation, maybe start with those? Weren't you looking for specific peppers a while back? Maybe you could make them that way?" The Goblin seems amazed and very pleased. "So many! Goodness, these boots are nuts, Telamon. I know just who to buy them for. I am sure any priest of Althea would be proud to have a pair."

The banana bunches are carefully stored on her table, and then desk, and Simony inhales deeply. "Smells so good in here now." She hugs at the Half-sil once more. "Thanks again ever so much. I am going to learn how to make jam, and you will get to try my first batches. And also, banana bread. Oh the cook is going to be so pleased, to be able to give delicious sweet things now, people will be very happy for that!"

When the last banana is plucked, there's a shiver, and the plants dissipate into motes of mana that rapidly vanish. "What are friends for?" Telamon replies with a grin. "I may have to pay a visit to the Soldier's Defense too. I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting some fresh fruit for the patients as a treat."

He gives Simony another hug, happily patting her back. "It's the little things that help us get through the day, I've found. Whether it's showing up with flowers, or a bucket of fresh berries, or just a hug. It matters." He looks inquiringly at Simony. "Who would you buy a pair for? I'm curious."

"Oh gosh, yes, that is a great idea. I can bring them some of my banana bread too!" The Goblin seems very enthusiastic about baking all of a sudden. "Okay, now to test them." One of the bananas is selected, and she peels it quickly using her little finger-claws. The banana vanishes in one chew and gulp. "Mmmh, that's the stuff."

At Tel's question, her cheeks suddenly mottle red, and she glances away. "Oh uh just a friend, you know?"

Telamon raises his eyebrows, but doesn't press the issue. "Well, they are a little pricey -- I appraised them and they're not amazingly powerful, but that consistent effect definitely requires some work. Still, I'm glad to have them -- if nothing else, they're a great conversation piece."

He sits back down on the chair again. "So why don't you tell me about this banana bread recipe? I'm curious, and while I'm not much of a baker, Auranar is -definitely- one. She might be interested in taking a shot at it, assuming she doesn't know it already."