A Flicker of Memory

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A wee form comes running from the Temple of Tarien. They make their way through the evening crowd and suddenly skids to a halt. A few moments later, Seldan is the owner of his very own Gobbo limpet. But little time to enjoy it, as a cacophony of sound bursts forth from the Temple of Tarien. Thunderous booms, shrieks and whistles, bright lights flashing here and there, and not a few adherents running to and fro.

Strike is walking the temple district with a simple parasol in no real hurry as she enjoys the sort of smoked meat skewer she ended up sharing last night, looking relatively contented with the world, despite the weather.

There's a fair stream of people coming out of the various temples near constantly. And amongst the lot leaving the Temple of Daeus is one particularly visible figure. The double-scarved Zant, stretching his arms out and upwards with a subtle stretch of his back while he moves down the steps. Mmmrrh.

There are those who might find that such occurrences are part of the daily lives of the faithful of the Bard King, but Seldan hasn't seen such before, and his state of wakefulness amid the mana-lights that dot the district, combined with sudden explosions and abrupt acquisition of a limpet, is enough to well startle him. His head snaps up, and he rubs at his eyes, -staring- at the flashing and explosions from the Temple of Tarien, then looks down at his leg. "Wha...Acedia, what?" Someone is very confused.

From the sword at his hip, a low female voice begins to snicker. "Sounds like something exploded. Not had enough of demons yet?"

Strike has her mood soured some by the sound of explosions, but aside from a certain subtle shift in her body language and posture, and the odd glance about to see who's running where, she doesn't outwardly seem much affected.

The Gobbo eyes Zant for a little bit, and as he stretches, something small bounces off of his midsection. Wasn't her, though, honest. She looks up at Seldan and grins toothily. "It's what happens when offering candles are replaced with fire cracklers, woot whistlers and Sandy shriekers." Her eyes are as wide as teacup saucers. "I don't know how that even happens.", she says innocently.

Acedia eyes Strike a moment or two, before offering the woman a wave.

Zant does snap into attention when he notices the commotion in Tarien's temple... and then peeks down curiously at his own stomach when he feels something thwap on it. Blinkblinkblink! His green gaze lifts up, and tracks inevitably towards Seldan and Acedia, considering the two curiously.

The sword at Seldan's hip bursts out laughing, in several voices, among them a low, female voice. "Sounds like they got a taste of their own medicine," snickers the voice.

"You watch, though, they'll be hopping mad," warns another voice, a young man.

"Of course they will," the low female voice chimes back in. "Just remind them it's good for a laugh, and most of them will settle down."

"Most of them," the young man's voice says darkly.

"Nonsense, they'd better," chimes in the voice of a crotchety old man. "Disrespectful lot, they are."

Seldan, meanwhile, is unimpressed, looking down at his leg, suddenly thoroughly awake, his arms folded. "Do not tell me such lies, Acedia. If I do not miss my guess, the culprit is clinging to my leg."

Strike catches sight of the wave from the goblin and she lifts a hand to wave her way in turn, wind taking her newly colored hair to waving some as well. She smiles politely as they've worked well in the past, but continues along in that general direction anyway, sidestepping the sound of people running past her without an acknowledging glance.

Acedia looks quizzically at the Paladin, and huffs at the man. "No fair using godly powers to cheat, Seldan." She giggles and grins toothily. "It is a requirement of the Temple of Tarien. As for untruths, they too are at the heart of the practical jokes. Simply admitting it spoils the fun."

Meanwhile, the object that thwapped into Zant's chest? A cat's eye marble, roughly the diameter of a copper.

"YOU! Goblin!", comes a yell. Acedia? Hiding behind the imposing Paladin of Eluna. No Goblins here. The priest, by his garb, is marked in a few places with pockmarks and small burnt patches litter his formerly white robes. His slightly obese form stomps down towards where the Gobbo was last seen. "I know you are heeee..."

That marble? Now assists the priest in tumbling to the ground. And rolling away on the slight incline away from the temple area. "eeerrrrreee..."

"So how're you doing?", she casually asks of Strike, from behind the woman.

Mikilos wanders, enjoying the nice weather. And by 'nice' I mean 'not currently freezing'. The distant explosions have caught the elf's attention, though spying their place of origin, he doesn't seem too concerned. He is, however, not looking healthy. Little on the thin side. Half step shy of skeletal, really.

Zant seems confused, but after leaving the stairs, he goes moving on further-- and then sees a priest tumbling down the other stairs! Ah! With a brief discoloring of his features, he goes speeding towards the stairs and up them with rapid leaps until he intercepts the priest's tumble with hands going bracing him. "It's okay! I got you, I got you!"

Seldan turns and -stares- at the gobber hiding behind him, but before he can speak, the sword at his hip chimes in.

"Told you so." The young man's voice is at least as dark as before.

"Oh, come off it, Zee," the low female voice says. "Watching that Temple get what is coming to them is always a joy."

Seldan is more interested in going after the skittering priest, but his perspective changes as he looks up, and it is only now that he spots both Strike and Mikilos in his motion. "Strike, Master Mithralla, good evening," he greets, although like Zant, he scrambles after the tumbling priest. "Master Mithralla, I would have a word," he says briefly.

Strike is still relatively neutral externally, though someone who truly knows the way the body moves understands the heightened state of alertness she's operating under and trying to downplay. She cants her head and her chin pivots some as to regard the voice hiding behind her, "I'm well, and yourself?" before the hail draws her eye. It is well that someone is on hand to attend the ailing fellow, he's well out of her reach. She nods to Seldan with a neutral, "Seldan."

It's the sound of chaos that draws yet another figure into the scene, a blue-scaled sith who exits the temple of Daeus and stares at the temple of Tarien for a long moment before shaking his head. He seems for a moment to consider reentering the temple that he just left when he spies the group gathering and decides instead to finish his treck down the stairs to join them. "Peasssce on your nesstsss."

Mikilos tsks mildly at the various antics, letting them sort themselves out on their own... or cause further chaos, both are fine. Rasing a hand in greeting, he nods to Seldan. "Just the one? Very effecient of you, most people need a whole sentence." he says with a smile.

The arrival of a blue-scaled Sith cause the Gobbo to squeak, and she offers a wave to Strike as she runs off towards Zeke. She bounces up and down in front of the Sith. "Zeke Zeke Zeke!", she says excitedly. "Where have you been? How have you been?"

"YOU!", come a loud yell. The priest, having rolled part way down some stairs, arrested in part by the joint efforts of Seldan and Zant, sits up. Before even a thank you escapes his lips, he points to Acedia. "YOU!! You switched out the normal candles! For fireworks!"

The Gobbo looks to Zeke after staring at the priest. "Well, that's enough catching upIgottagotakecarenowIloveyoubyebye!" With that, she turns and runs for one of the side streets. With the priest attempting to stand, to give chase.

Strike blinks at the withered man's remark and cants her head with a vaguely amused, "Droll." and, in that moment, she is drawn to watch the little goblin tear off with an irate priest in pursuit. The flesh craves conflict. A shake of the head and she turns toward Zeke, "And to yours. How are you... two doing?"

Bemused, Seldan turns, and raises a hand to stop Acedia, but she's much quicker than he is, and she is swiftly out of his line of sight before he can really react. He sighs and shakes his head, slowly. "I am in need of your assistance ... but you do not look well. Have you managed to cure it, at all?" There is real concern, there. "There have been ... new developments, and not good ones."

Bemused, Seldan turns, and raises a hand to stop Acedia, but she's much quicker than he is, and she is swiftly out of his line of sight before he can really react. He sighs and shakes his head, slowly. "I am in need of your assistance ... but you do not look well. Have you managed to cure it, at all?" There is real concern, there. "There have been ... new developments, and not good ones." He turns to Zeke, and finally, he smiles. "Peace upon your nest as well, Zeke. I would ask your forgiveness, I have been away on a Guild job and have not found him yet."

Once the priest is up, Zant tries t- oh, nope, no he doesn't, since the man is surprisingly quickly trying to enact vengeance upon Acedia. "Ah! Wai-" He's surprisingly fast too! His outreachedh and only grabs onto air, and then flops down defeatedly. "...Ah, well." Still crouched, he tips his head up to peer to Seldan with a sheepish (but still somehow warmly radiating!) smile. "Hi."

Acedia receives a wag of his tail, a warm expression from the sith-makar before she's bounding off and... he's not sure why but there's an angry priest after her and that only ears her a soft shake of his head. "Thisss one issss... tired." This is to Strike, and indeed Zeke /looks/ tired. Like he hasn't slept in a few days, but he rolls his right shoulder in a half-shrug and wags his tail at Seldan. He looks at Mikilos and blinks at the mage. "You do not look well Mikilosss."

Mikilos nods. "Cured, but not yet fully recovered. Seems relying on magic for sustenance, while infected with a magic eating plague, doesn't mix well." He frowns mildly. "Cryosanthia stopped by and said hello. She looks... older..."

Seldan inclines his head, nodding his understanding. "-She- got ahold of her," he tells the mage shortly. "She showed herself, and we have another problem that is best not spoken of here. I...." Something is clearly bothering Seldan about the whole thing, but he instead looks down at Zant curiously. "Hello, might I be of aid?"

Zeke looks between Mikilos and Seldan before nodding. "Thisss isss sso. Cryosssanthia hasss been aged by her resscent experienssse." His tail gives an uncomfortable flick but he glances toward the temple he just exited. "Thissss one can offer more privascy inssside the temple if you ssso desssire it."

"After yesterday's outbursts, I assume if 'she' was named, Cryosanthia's uniformed choice would not have been as likely." She looks to Zeke at his words and nods, "My reaction to her state was... not seemly, and was unfair. Please convey my apologies to her, if you would."

"Not particularly," Zant tells Seldan in response, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. "I was just... ah, I just happened to be here, that is all." He looks over around the people Seldan is talking to, and purses his lips. "Ah... Don't let me bother you all, though."

"After yesterday's outbursts, I assume if 'she' was named, Cryosanthia's uniformed choice would not have been as likely." Strike looks to Zeke at his words and nods, "My reaction to her state was... not seemly, and was unfair. Please convey my apologies to her, if you would."

Mikilos nods, and quirks a brow. "The water, or something more?"

The mention of the water earns Mikilos a _look_ from Seldan. "Not here, else the people frighten." The paladin's grammar in the language is far from perfect, but it is not unintelligible. He turns back to the others, especially to Strike, and his eyes lower. 'I ... was not completely certain. I had only a hunch, and when she returned as she did, I knew for certain, but it was too late. I make no excuses, and you may do to me as you will.' <sildanyari>

Zeke gets no answer for his offer, so tilts his head at the words that Seldan speaks. Something in elven perhaps? The language is one that Zeke recognizes but can not understand. Instead he focuses on Strike, her words causing his eyes to nictate. "Thisss one will relay your well-wisshesss. Thisss one isss tending to her. Sssshe..." He sighs softly and his gaze goes distant and he forgets to continue what he's saying.

Mikilos waves vaugely. "Old news, really. People started falling sick, the source was investigated, found, and I had assumed fixed. Then Kol showed up, started kidnapping people, and -that- is when I got involved. I shouldn't have assumed the problem was cared for just because people were more concerned with other things."

A somewhat large Oruch walks his way into the Temple district, tilting his neck and popping it as he walks. he doesn't pay too much attention to the group, until someone speak a language he doesn't know. His eyes turn to the speaker, but only briefly. He takes a quiet breath as he approaches the group....mostly to eavesdrop....or listen quietly for those who don't like that word.

Strike considers the man's contrition and simply says, "That slight is not mine to answer, Seldan." She looks to the scarved man and appraises him for a time, curious, then returns her attention to Zeke as she's addressed, stepping toward the blue sith, "You are a good friend." Her eyes lower for a moment, "There is no more for me to say on this matter, but I will relay any new information I gain. Be well." With that, the halfblood bows and turns to continue on her way to the temple of Reos of all things.

Zant considers the conversation for a good moment, with an occasional wrinkle of his nose... but eventually decides to rise up from his crouch. He does notice Strike peering towards him, and he gives a sheepish wiggle of his fingers... but seeing her going some other way, he just goes descending from the stairs, and goes on on his own way, thus.

"And yet it is you who makes the judgment," Seldan tells Strike, looking after her as she leaves, but says nothing more, instead turning back to Zeke, his entire bearing suddenly stiffly formal. "Forgive me. I would have us retire to the Temple to talk, then. There is much to be said. Perhaps Master Mithralla could spare us some time."

Mikilos nods. "Of course. Lead the way."

Zeke's eyes slide for a moment toward the person who is eavesdropping on their conversation, not recognizing the personage, but far too aware of people to not notice that they are being listened to. His own posture becomes a bit stiff and formal as he nods to Seldan and waves to the two men he has been speaking to. "Follow thisss one." He leads the way into the temple of Daeus. He has a more private room there.

_Location segue: The group takes themselves into the Temple of Daeus._

Zeke leads Seldan and Mikilos through the temple at a goodly pace, his eyes roaming the halls as if to make certain that they are alone and not being followed. When they reach the room, he opens the door for them, and enters the room last. Upon entry one realizes that this room is actually meant to hold several people, but for now it is being used only by one. Cryosanthia. The bed is set up in a corner, and there are a few stools which are lined up against one wall. A pot of tea rests on top of a cabinet by the door and as Zeke closes said door he begins pouring tea for everyone. "Ssssa make yourssselvesss comfortable yesss?"

To be fair, Merek was following, just a fair bit back. Eventually he does ask where Seldan might be, perhaps finding directions, perhaps actually managing to make his way there himself. Then he comes upon the place that the party looks to be gathering, and knocks on the door which is probably closed after Zeke. He wears black leather with chainmail, which he isn't often in his armor.

Mikilos follows along, having a fair idea of where he's being led, but not certain the exact room. The wizard does not look his best, still recovering from his latest encounter with the Plague. He's gotten painfully thin.

By contrast, Seldan does not wear armor, only his usual robes, and of his weapons carries only the sword at his hip. He appears clear, awake, and hale, though, if just a touch rumpled, and is quiet as he enters and surveys the bed. He does accept the tea, cradling it between both hands as a meditative device and sinking down onto a stool. He does not speak, and looks up only at the knock on the door.

The noise and activity rouses Cryosanthia. Her eyes open and she stares at ceiling, her lips move but she doesn't speak, and it's a moment more before she sits up. She looks over and sees more company than she expected. She nods in the general direction and reaches for her anygarment sleeves. She takes them from the side table and slips them on. She concentrates and is wearing a simple long gown. At that point she speaks. "Hello gentlemen."

There's a pause from Zeke at the knock on the door, a glance around the room to asscern that everyone he is expecting to see is there and then he sets the tea cup he was holding for Cryosanthia down so that he can open the door. The change in his body posture as he opens the door says everything. He is /not/ happy. His eyes darken, his tail and body stiffen. Coldly he holds the door only partially open and blocks it with his body so that Merek can not see very well inside. In fact, can probably only see Zeke himself. "Go away." His words and tone are even colder than his body language.

Merek looks then to Zeke when he opens the door, and lifts up his brow a bit. "I came by to apologize," he says simply, not seeming to be wanting any conflict. He does watch the Sith-Makar, his voice enough that people within might be able to hear his voice as well. He does look to within, then back to the man.

Mikilos peers towards the door, curious, but not overly concerned. Whatever the conflict, it doesn't appear to directly involve him.

The voice tells Seldan who stands outside, and he rises at once, setting his tea aside on the counter and standing to place himself between Cryosanthia's bed and the door. Although he does not draw, he stands balanced on his feet, the stance of a warrior, waiting. He does not explain to Mikilos what is going on, not yet, but his body language clearly screams that he is protecting her.

"I'm not interested in an argument today." Cryosanthia says in a rather neutral and disinterested tone. Now that she's clothed, she stands so she can look past Seldan. Her posture is very straight and her movements minimal. She can easily scent Zeke's state, his agitation. She inhales strongly and holds it, closing her eyes and putting her hand on her forehead, rubbing at the base of one of her horns.

"These magic sleeves held up well over the years, Merek. They, my gloves, the ring paired with Ezil's that Svarshan gave me. I'm sure I thought of you often."

She steps to the side. One step. Enough to see past Seldan, Mikilos, Zeke, out the door to look at Merek. "I'm not angry, but you are agitating Shaman Zeke. It is distressing me too. Please make amends with him, and Seldan, separately. I want you in the discussion, but..." Her voice trails off, as if she's forgotten what she wanted to say. She simply stares, remaining still.

Zeke's claw tightens on the door, but he is not an unreasonable sith. Even so... "What do you mean to apologissse for?" The question is... too calm. It clearly has more meaning to Zeke than the simple words. He can feel Seldan's tension behind him, and Cryosanthia's words ring in his ears. No, there will be no confrontation today. His green eyes meet Merek's and they are unwavering. "There will be no conflict in thisss room Cryossssanthia. There will be peasssce in this nessst. Thisss one will be certain of it."

Merek seems to think about it a moment, listening to the words from Cryosanthia. More than what anyone else says, that looks like it affects the man. He then shifts his attention to Zeke, "I wish to apologize for casting the blame that was as much mine on others. I don't know everything, what happened was no one's doing. I won't make any excuses. I felt harmed by words from many people, and I turned it upon others. I was worried, but I let that become my own anger. I took things upon people that were nothing but nice to me. I apologize to all three of you."

"I know I apologized to Seldan before, I think... I think I have a lot to learn. I won't ask to be forgiven right away. I'd just like you all to know, I understand what I did wasn't right, about any of you or any of your folk." He then adds, "If the presence of mine would be distracting, I can be back on my way." He seems to be a bit tense, not from anger, just a weariness, seeming to be earnest.

It is a good thing that most are not looking at Seldan when Cryosanthia behind him speaks. He lowers his eyes as if stung, but says only, "Then let there be no confrontation. There is a problem yet to be solved, and She and Kol are the only ones who stand to gain from our conflict. There is blame to share, and much of it is mine, but I cannot aid her, or anyone, now, do we not seek an answer." He turns to Cryosanthia. "I have been away on a Guild job for some days, but shall seek my contact as soon as I may."

"So many smells." Cryosanthia says, sitting back on the bed. Her tail straight out behind her. It's almost as if she's forgotten it as a part of herself, except that could be said of any of her other limbs. If there's a reason to move it, she moves it for that purpose, if there isn't, she doesn't. It's quite unlike the hunting stillness of the sith-makar, which has much more readiness of body. "So many male smells. When Zeke is gone and the tea is done, if I clean the whole room, it's like home."

The white-scale sith-makar sits there, not saying or doing much after her random observation. She breathes, seconds tick by, grows into a minute. Then it's as if there's a second awakening, she leans, splaying her feet and supporting herself with one hand, her tail curls around. She snorts and somewhat cajollingly says, "Guild jobs are gonna kill you."

"I thought that might have been why Mikilos was here, but I met him earlier, so he's not the contact?"

Mikilos sits quietly and listens, not entirely sure what he missed, but gettign the gist of the matter from context. Either way, he's nothing productive to add to the mix.

The man's words are... they suffice. For a beginning. Zeke opens the door and allows Merek egress, but Merek has clearly lost the trust that Zeke felt toward him. He moves away from the door only after it is closed again, and Zeke nods to Seldan. A warriors nod. Respect and appreciation and hope that Seldan will continue to protect the female. Zeke brings Cryosanthia some tea and stands at her side also, protecting her. He has poured no tea for himself, and the tea pot is empty now in any case.

"No, Mikilosss isss not the one that Ssseldan wantsss for you to meet." Zeke sighs. "There isss sso much that needssss done and ssso little time to do it in." He looks at Cryosanthia. "Isss thisss plassce ssso like the tower that you were... kept in?"

Merek nods a bit to Zeke, "Thank you," he says, not offering a lot beside. With that, he finds a place to lean back in thought, thinking about it. He does scratch a bit at his cheek stubble. He will listen, to take in at what piece of the conversation they are in.

Seldan inclines his head to Zeke, an acknowledgement and acceptance. His eyes remain hooded, a thought that remains his own, although at the quip from behind him, he almost smiles. "Perhaps I shall entertain you with the tale of a living demon gate to Thul's realm, if you weary and would hear it, but ... there are other things to be told. The Temples have been warned of the water supply, now, and although I do not understand why this was not done when first it was learned of, I shall not speak of it again, save only this: It seems that the creatures found a few days past were - different. Evolved, in some way."

Cryo watches Zeke as he moves across the room, her head turning and following him. Taking in the nod. His presence. She bounces and shifts her seating on the bed, closer to him. She eagerly takes the tea, and a long sip of it. She then explains. "The dimensions are wrong, of course. There were windows, I remember looking out of them..."

She stares for a little while, blinks once. "... I remember looking out of them. I don't remember what I was looking at. This room doesn't have windows. The stone, the power in them. It's quiet. I feel alone. There's not a lot of stimulation. It feels like home."

"Oh, oh right! The oozes!" Cryosanthia grins.

Mikilos nods. "I'm told it was along the lines of the Felwood, the changes, but that was quite some time ago. I imagine more has been learned since then. Alba, if i recall, was wokring with some of the altered creatures, looking for a live sample of the ooze... I was going to go help, then she got kidnapped, then i got kidnapped, and well, things just never have quite ogtten orderly again..."

The other sith's answer seems to concern Zeke somewhat, if his flicking tail is any indication. "Thisss one wasss not there, thisss one doess not know why the templesss were not warned. But with them warned sssomething mussst be done about it. The plague mussst be cleansssed from the water sssupply." He moves his tail abruptly in a near-thump of emotion, but it doesn't strike.

Zeke glances toward Cryosanthia and then at Mikilos. "Thisss one wonderssss if you have learned anything new. Thisss one can ssssee that you are free of the plauge, but knowsss you did not sssseek out the People for your cure. Thisss one would have heard."

Merek listens between the party of people, seeming to think about it. He is listening. There's little he can add which someone else would anyway, while he takes a sip with the flask.

"Both She and Eclavdran seem to have the means of a cure, though I am uncertain that I would truly call it a cure. They can remove it at will, at the least." Seldan speaks, finally picking up his teacup again. "However, the snowflake mark is left in those that they cure. A simple mark of ownership? More? The Seer theorizes that as the plague seems intended to gather magic power and feed it to another source, that the snowflake mark may simply mean that the conduit is transferred from the plague to one of them directly." He nods to Merek.

"I am certain that Master Mithralla knows much more from his research than he has yet shared thus far. Indeed, that is already proven true on several topics. Perhaps he will share now."

"Both She and Eclavdran seem to have the means of a cure, though I am uncertain that I would truly call it a cure. They can remove it at will, at the least." Seldan speaks, finally picking up his teacup again. "However, the snowflake mark is left in those that they cure. A simple mark of ownership? More? The Seer theorizes that as the plague seems intended to gather magic power and feed it to another source, that the snowflake mark may simply mean that the conduit is transferred from the plague to one of them directly." He nods to Merek.

"I am certain that Master Mithralla knows much more from his research than he has yet shared thus far. Indeed, that is already proven true on several topics. Perhaps he will share now." His tone is studiously neutral.

Cryosanthia startles, remembering something that makes her tea-cup rattle on the saucer she holds. "I've seen his scar. I saw it before I went too. I joked I should put my mark over hers, then I'd own you. Instead we're both her property now. Did you go back again?"

"Oh... you're asking if he figured out the cure... There were other people there. I remember helping her with them."

Mikilos nods. "I cured myself. Studying the spell that was used, it seems a version of a simple Dispel Magic, it was just used again and again until it worked. With one cure found, I stopped looking for others. Infected again, I started looking again, and used a powerful version of Dispel Magic upon myself until cured." He hesitates. "Honestly, I'm not certain if that's what cured me, or some other event that happned at the same time. It seemed... not quite right, but it did appear to work. As for the snowflake, whatever else it does, it acts along the lines of a Wizard's Mark, allowing those so marked to be found and scryed easily.

Zeke's tail flicks again, his eyes moving toward Cryosathia's hand with tension singing along his spine. "Then... ssshe could be watching usss now?" It was an unsettling thought. One that didn't bear thinking so he waved his hand to clear it from the air, quickly moving the topic along. "There isss only ssso much we can do. Perhapsss we ssshould focusss on the now. On helping Cryosssanthia regain her memory by allowing her to meet thisss other who wass... held by the missstresss of the tower. Then on cleansssing the sity."

Merek nods a bit to Seldan while he shares the theory that he mentioned. A look between the people in there, "I don't think that anyone is scrying," he says. "Though there are ways to listen in that don't need all that."

Seldan nods to Zeke, slowly. "It is as you say, shaman, and it is for that reason that I ask that the discussion of that contact be ended." The words hang for a moment. "I would ask your forgiveness, Cryosanthia. I guessed at her identity, when first she approached, but I was uncertain, and I did not wish her to know how much I knew, lest violence ensue, for which we were unprepared. I did not warn you, and the fault for your suffering is mine." His eyes lower.

Cryo puts the cup and saucer on the bed. She positions it on the centre line, 2/3s of the way along. Then she scoots the corner and reaches out to rub along Zeke's spine. She leans and rests her head against the side of his back. Her head is solid and heavy now, with her larger horns. She inhales his scent, her own is calm, the brief surprise not enough to influence it. "Thanks."

She heeds Seldan's words and simply says, "Well, I should feel up to going... outside... again tomorrow. I would like to get past the dreamy jumble. Zeke, How long do you think I was there, from everything?" When she speaks, her voice vibrates into him, and when she is done speaking she straightens up and twists around for her tea. Picking them up, she takes another sip and shakes her head. "Don't think so Seldan. I was angry... afraid. Knowing, might have changed my mind, it might not. I meant what I said, a Speaker goes to negotiate and understand. I hope my instincts were right, I have to trust them. I hope it wasn't a desperate belief that my safest option was to give myself over to the strongest example of what I feared the most. I don't think it was, but doubt creeps in."

Mikilos says, "Kol, Yukia, and the Mistress all need stopped. Eclavdran, I'm not confidant his role in it all, but I don't trust him. The ooze needs stopped, the waters cleansed, and whatever energy the ozze gathered dealt with, and likely whatever purpose it was gathered for stopped. The Tower needs made safe, likely destoryed... likely more, but that's the list that comes to mind just now."

Zeke nods to Seldan politely, more concerned than ever now. His apology draws silence from the blue-scaled sith. Save a tell-tale twitch of the tail that betrays a touch of his agitation. Zeke knows that Seldan feels badly about the situation, but Zeke can not entirely forget that the man could have warned Cryosanthia... and did not. So he is silent, because Seldan blames himself enough and does not need his words as well. Zeke tenses as Cryosanthia places a hand on his spine, the movement makes the sith tense from head to toe, his eyes widening even as his heart begins to race with fear. "Crosssanthia..."

Zeke does not know what words to say to her. It's a low rumble, tight with fear. He fights with it. Wars down his fear into a little ball at the base of his chest-ribs and forces himself to stay still. He is missing bits and pieces of the conversation. But he knows enough to nod to Mikilos. To acknowledge that the mage is correct in his words. Much to be done. "Thisss one will put in a requesssst." His voice is still razor-taunt. "With the adventurersss guild. To sssend an expedition in to the sssewersss to find the sssource and cleanssse it. Hopefully thisss one will be able to go with." He was so often busy with the plague victims that he rarely had time for other things these days.

Merek looks a bit like he's not completely comfortable with a few things, so he focuses on Mikilos, "Would you assist me with the dispeling? I would like to keep this illness away." He nods, "If you have the time and inclination, and would accept payment." Then he thinks about it, "I wonder why the ooze is different, evolution?"

Seldan listens to Cryosanthia's response, closing his eyes, lowering his head, and nodding. "Thank you, Cryosanthia." That, at least, is real, and he hides nothing, although he carefully does not look at Zeke. Instead, he turns his attention to Mikilos. "One of my fellow Silver Guards, by the name of Serene, was kind enough to offer her aid. I have asked her to look into Eclavdran, learn what she can, and possibly determine a means of stopping him. Although he may do as he is bid in stopping her, there is no telling what he will do when his service is done, for he is free to go upon Ea when he completes his task. I have bid her speak to you on the matter."

Cryosanthia inhales, and Zeke's scent of fear finally registers for her, preoccupied as she was with her thoughts. Her scent turns sad. She shifts away from the blue-scale, her hands folded in her lap, holding onto the saucer, her fingers gripping it equally on opposite sites. She inhales, straightens her posture. Her tail aligns directly behind again. Her scent quells, her body language sends no signals. Her voice is neutral, somewhat monotone. "This one apologizes. There was not a lot of contact there. This one is used to being without. Will not impose."

She sits and listens as the other plans are discussed.

Mikilos shrugs. "Purposefully manipulated? I don't know what causes the different ooze strains. Far far too much we still don't know."

Being freed of the thing that terrifies him gives Zeke clarity, and Cryosanthia's words are... They sadden Zeke deeply, shifting his scent. He can not escape his fear, but he can fight it. He lets out a shakey breath and sits down on the bed beside the female. Sits very close to her and his presence is there. He sits with his crystal arm toward her, and... reaches out. "Thisss one isss alssso usssed to being without. It issss hard to remember that not all mean harm." It is spoken very softly, and he offers her his crystal hand. Fights his fear into a little ball and tries to meet her gaze.

Then, Zeke looks up, coughs and rejoins the conversation. "Thisss one thinksss that the plague changesss asss it growss in sstrength. Like any cold. It changesss sso that the sssame body can not defeat it again the nexst time. It changesss and changesss. Perhapsss thisss isss why sshe was interesssted in it from Cryossanthia. Becaussse in order to ussse it sshe mussst know how it hasss changed."

With his piece said, and no responses forthcoming, it is Seldan's turn to fall silent, and finally pick up his tea again, listening from his seat on the stool. There is a lot to be said here, and others who know more on many topics than he. The best he can hope to do is ... get then all to talk to one another.

"I am going to make you something to keep you company," Merek says then to Cryo, while he nods to the woman, then he looks to all those within, thinking about it. "We'll win. I am tired of that woman's servants that think of the city as a play toy."

Cryo turns her head and meets Zeke's gaze. Her expression would be worrying to a sith, it's like she's not there, inside. The reactions one would expect, a change of muscle tension on the snout, a sniff, absent. A little like a puppet, except she breathes. In the sense that it's alien for her body, it's frightening. She takes his crystal hand, squeezing it, as if she could crush it or perhaps injure herself on it. Then her awareness switches on. Movement, the right kinds rush in, she exhales carefully, her grip relaxes.

Her voice is still neutral, "I'm having a moment. I've got it under control. I understand. Have we reached the end of things we can speak about?"

Zeke blinks slowly and looks at those gathered. "Thisss one thinksss that Cryossanthia needss to return to ressst. Ssshe isss still not completely well." He is clearly worried, but he does not rise as he would usually to usher people out, he stays where he is so that she can hold his claw. "Pleassse forgive thisss one, but perhapsss another time?

Mikilos nods. "Of course, we should not intrude."

Merek nods a bit to Zeke, while he stands up. He takes a moment to adjust his attire, "Of course, you be well," he says to all of the party.

Immediately, Seldan stands, setting down his teacup. "Yes, of course. I will find you when I have done what is needful." He does not wait to be shown out to head for the door, although he does turn a smile on Cryosanthia. "I never did explain to you why my wings are mottled." With that, he's headed for the door.

"We'll have a thing to talk about next time!" Cryosanthia calls, happiness in her words now. She holds the crystal claws, not letting go. Nodding to Mikilos, Merek. "I want to rest. I agree."

Her tail swishes a little on the bed behind her, "She is not a warm woman, and I thought I liked the cold."