At the Morninglord's temple
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Ashena clasps her hands neatly - perhaps to avoid a schoolmistressish fingerwagging at certain parts of the crowd, perhaps not - and gives Allestor a brief, warm smile. She turns to Sirion next, solemn and sincere as ever:
"Your words have been heard, and will be heeded on their own merit - thank you Sirion. Unless you have something to add at this point, I believe it is time you left so that concrete plans can be discussed without the seed of doubt remaining in anyone's heart. I would then like Maria, Beourn and Imril to be asked back here, and if anyone can find Belia, I believe her imput would be valuable also."
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listening patiently, Allestor clears his throat at the next pause
In regards to pursuing the mist, I have a thought on that.. There is a spell of wind walking, that should allow one to travel as mist, along with four or five others for about half a day. I'm not capable of it myself, but perhaps some of the more experienced priests or druids among us are. If it could be stored in spell crystals as well for when it's needed, it could be possible to move a sizable force in that manner.
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Grunts
Kara Dumonte was a friend… a good friend, until the darkness took her. After that she weren't Kara any longer, but somethin' else.
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_"Maria might be able to learn something…both Fendon and his blade are the stuff of legend. The collective memory of the races permeates the very ether of the cosmos. If she does not have the spell, I will enscribe it upon a scroll."
"My most vocal and respected critic, the paladin and songstress Val, would also be a good person to speak to, particularly if Fendon's past is tied to Kara DuMonte." He speaks the name with no hesitation, though others in the room may gasp and make signs against evil._
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Mebee tis un uv dose days….Vanderkaus shrugs and nudges Dwin back
Er mebee tis juss as sumun said, emotional business...Ah would be emotional in 'is shoes... ah means, ah wus loike 'ims first time a atended un uv dese meetins, back in da day...
Iffin sumun culd go fetch 'ims, t'wuld be nice. Leasts 'ee made da oder un spill da beans.
Ah wus unce foitin dis Fark Fendons in 'is place, ah doan like da idea uv doin dat agains, but iffin dass da path we choose, yas aw kin count on me axe.... Noun wull say ah'm un coward, fer farks sake.
Dough, split 'nd conquer seems like un nice ahdea ter me. Mebee we could draw sum uv his forces out 'nd a selected few kin make da final strike... Du hells do h know...
Is der anyway ter know where id dis specail place uv Fendon's?
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Dwin stares at the ornery elf, with a deadpan expression.
I dinnae know what you are talking about, lad. Seems to me that there is a very high level of emotion and paranoia in this room, which, under the circumstances makes sense.
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Imril waits till Sirion finishes, his look unchanging toward him. Once it seems he is done speaking, Imril casts a frown toward the dwarves
Is something funny Master Dwin? You seem to be full of mirth this day. I would have thought this situation and discussion of a much more dire nature than to allow for quiet jests and inside jokes at some others expense.
Since you seem fairly confident, perhaps it best if I leave, since I seem to be little more than a distraction to your planning at present…..
He looks toward Ashena and in a sincere tone says
I take my leave, Lady, my offer of help still stands. You may reach me in Peltarch at the Mermaid, should any plan be devised for which I may be of service.
With this he whispers again to the silver haired elf, turns on his heels and briskly walks for the temple doors, neither looking at nor acknowledging the dwarves as he passes.
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_"He's insane, and powerful. What magic is in his employ I have never seen, for he has never needed any save that blade alone. I have also never seen anyone able to challenge him, though many have tried. The junior Rath Ashald comes to mind. His command of the dead is obvious, though how he creates and maintains them is a mystery likely tied to the sword itself. He would not be above sending the corpse of a child to kill his father, but he will offer you one final chance to bow down and accept "true life" under Lord Norwick. By which he means kills to you and raise you into undeath."
"You have four options. You may do nothing. You may leave. You may push. And you may pull."
"Entering his domain and challenging him directly is obvious. He will expect it. Many will die. Victory is possible but unlikely."
"You may instead draw him out. Divide his forces. Many will still die, but you have the benefit of choosing your battleground. If his blade returns to a place upon his death automatically, you may be able to guess it is somewhere within his base. He's confident enough that the thought of putting it elsewhere may not even have occurred, but do not rule it out. Like wise, you cannot yet assume he cannot control where it goes. You need information if you are to succeed. I suggest you gather it. There are…ways within the crypts that lead to parts unexplored. I have seen evidence of some. They cannot be traversed on foot, but for those whom high sheer walls and crawlspaces filled with a great many things wishing your death, access may be possible."
"As for concrete plans...I will not waste anyone's time. If I give you one, you will argue over it and discount it when I am gone. I know this and know that many good plans will be lost in the process. So I leave you to decide that on your own. I do not need to know."_
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- at least one member of the Dwarven coalition smirks and nudges one of his kin as the "long-ears" and "wigglers" go at it with each other.*
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Imril pushes himself from his leaning stance to stand upright, the look of surprise on his face melting to one of indifference, as he again folds his arms across his chest and speaks, there is a slight tinge of disdain in his voice though he tries hard to conceal it.
A most wise assessment Lady Ashena, I agree with you….
Come now Sirion, if you have anything else useful to say, let's have out with it and be done. Spare us your riddles and double talk for a moment, speak your piece and then, if it be the desire of those here, depart, least this whole coalition be sundered by your very presence. Speak plainly or waste not our time further.
He then crosses to stand near the other silver haired elf, whispering to him as he waits again with arms crossed.
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The young knight in question listens quietly, a look of slight frustration on her fair face before she speaks up once more, in a stern but calm tone:
"I will repeat myself - we are here to fight the undead threat against Norwick, not to throw accusation or judgement against one another. Please leave your grudges and your anger outside of this hallowed place.
I fully understand why people here have no trust for Sirion, but I must remind you all that his guilt - or indeed innocence - was not, and still cannot be proven or disproven. The temple wards allow no evil to enter, nor have I detected such from Sirion myself. However, that is not the same as saying he has committed no ill deeds.
If it was indeed Sirion who approached Fendon, as per the discarded plan hatched by the Norwick Remnant, tis a reprehensible and vile act, for it was performed after Therean had passed on a warning from his godess of the evil it would bring, and the many innocents who would perish. The ~purpose~ of the plan, however, was to create trouble for the bugbears and aid in liberating Norwick - not to doom all of Norwick itself.
T'was the undead who brought pain, death and suffering to the people of Norwick. Tis the undead who assail us still, and tis the undead that we shall fight now. I myself have ne'er encountered Fendon, and what information I have gleaned comes from Belia, Davos and the Order's own records. So, I would hear Sirion out, 'ere he departs, and decide the value of his words for myself, as suggested.
Then, we shall call the others back and continue planning. Another of the Order's squires has come up with a promising idea that I will share with the rest as soon as the details are made clearer."
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_"Now that's an interesting question, with even more interesting answers."
"And I did meet Fendon. That meeting, and others, is precisely why I was picked to entreat him, and that is precisely why you now hold me is such suspicion. Have you never met an enemy you did not kill?"
"If you do not believe me, it is not necessary. The young Knight's order had members present at several of the encounters. They'd remember the days quite well. How do you think I've come to know his temper and power so well? I brought paladins with me."
"If I wished to misdirect you, I would not be what you see now. I should play the part of the penitent, as yon Chancellor put it 'seeking atonement for a crime I did not commit,' asking you to trust me once more. I would seek first to earn that trust through trial and tribulation, then to lead you directly into a trap so that my dark lord might slay what little hope remains."
"If that's honestly my plan, I'm very bad at it."
"I am repaying my debts. Aramuil was a teacher of mine, for a time. As was Spellweaver. He is gone, and Spellweaver is errant. I act in their stead. Furthermore, I fought for this town when it fell to the bugbears, as did many here. I failed to prevent its fall. And I failed to succeed in its retaking. Ostromogs treaty and retreat took that from me. You think I wish to atone for something? That is it."
"I recognize that you cannot trust me. I do not expect you to. This is why I will not ask to join your fight. You cannot hope for victory while suspecting treachery from your neighbor, and I cannot protect those who do not trust me. I do, however expect you to use your minds. Hear my words and decide their value for yourselves. Ask what I have to gain by misleading you. Ask how I might do so. I give you nothing you cannot handle."
"And, when asked properly, I will depart."_
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- A tall silver haired elf stand up quietly from a bench where he had been quietly listening*
"This time Sirion, you have condemned yourself with your own words. You just admitted to haveing met with Fendon more than once by saying here he quotes Sirion's own word Arauil and I spoke at length after I first met Fendon here Ael pauses briefly, then he continues
"And why would you owe anything for as you say ,past deeds done, unless you did indeed make this deal with Fendon? For all we know, you are still working with the evil basterd and seek to misdirect this council"
finally with an angry glare he asks the leaders of the group
How can he even pass the wards on this temple with the blood of three hundred souls on his hands?
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A young Rashemi woman with long, thick black hair stands inside the temple watching the exchange. She remains silent for now, merely watching and listening.
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Beourn nods to Dwin and loosens his grip on the blade. As Sirion speaks, Beourn's face gets red and twists with anger.
Bah!!
The flustered dwarf stomps out of the temple, muttering in dwarven.
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_Sirion holds out his wrists to Beourn.
"Would you care to arrest me and try again? I am certain you can find a judge unwilling to listen to reason and make the matter of my conviction a foregone conclusion."
"I offer you what wisdom I can, and what I am willing to. If you wish to listen to me, fine. If you wish not, also fine."
"And if you're smart, you will not believe a word of it."
"And if you're wise, you will realize reality is not burdened by dependence upon your beliefs. What will be will be."_
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Dwin looks to Beourn as he finally realizes that Sirion is here, and male.
Relax, kin… they'll be no steel nor blood in this sacred place...
Seems to me there's quite a bit of unfinished business here, which should be addressed outside once we're through. And it will be.
If this betrayer is not here to help thumbs at Sirion I would suggest he leave. My understanding is that this meeting is for those who seek to help the Realm, not for those who wish to speak in riddles or praise their own wigglin' abilities.
However, this is not my temple... looks to Ashena It is not for us to judge who should stay or leave.
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A low grumble from a corner of the temple is heard as Sirion speaks, suddenly Beourn steps forward and points his grubby finger at Sirion.
Who let this murderin' dog in 'ere! Fer all we know he's bringin' this information back t'Fendon!!
Beourn growls as he grabs the hilt of his sheathed longsword strapped to his back and glares threateningly at Sirion.
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_"You shouldn't go. You'll be the one to trust with this, not me. Dwin's words alone make it clear how you and the others feel regarding me. And I have already decided not to fight alongside you. Win or lose, you will do so without me."
"I am here only to share what is owed for deed already done."_
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Has no Idea who let Sirion in side the temple, but María leaves when she notices him, eye-rolling
