A Friend in Need

Log Info

• Title: A Friend in Need

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Dolan, Ravenstongue

• Place: Andelena and Dolan's apartment

• Summary: Telamon's been kidnapped. Ravenstongue's building an army, and she needs the best for it. So it's time to find her generals, and Dolan is tapped for the job.

The light gray and the light rain are what gives the cool spring sky its defining features for the day, but in Cor'lana's head, there is only the darkness of her own clouds. She is dressed for war, her adventurer's robes, boots, cloak, and circlet adorning her--but the most grim of all is the expression she wears, violet eyes that bear the grave and lips that wear the weight in a tight line.

It is with all of this that she marches with purpose to a certain door that she knows, going up the stairs. She hardly pauses for a breath as she knocks--not loud enough to wake the dead, but loud enough to command attention.

Thankfully, there's a fairly prompt response, and for once, a normal one. Dolan opens the door, clad in shirt and trousers, the leather cuff tightly secured over his left shoulder. The golden gem that replaces his right eye is very much in evidence, and long brown hair is dampened as if a recent bath had happened. The door cracks at first, then opens more fully. "Brightest of days, Lana -" He stops short, and steps aside, easy, friendly tone gone flat. "What's going on."

"Dolan." Cor'lana's voice is flat. But then it's the next that causes her violet eyes to flare with anger, her voice barely hiding her rage. "Zalgiman took Telamon. It's a very long story and I do not have time to explain--but I can find him. I can take us to him. And I've got an army of people."

She lowers her head, a sign of deference to her friend. "I need your help. I need you to be part of that army. I'm sorry to trouble you with this on your doorstep--but I need my husband back, and I need Zalgiman's death."

The inquisitor's stare is leveled at Cor'lana for a long, long moment, a stare that reads what did you do? It's an expressionless thing that she has seen directed at others before, but never directly at her. When Dolan speaks, though, it's decisive and purposeful, the mobile half of his features darkening with sudden concern. "Get in here. I've got to get my gear on." Judging from the look of him, he's about halfway there already. "We haven't got a moment to lose, and I'll be ready faster with help."

Cor'lana steps inside and closes the door behind her. The weight of that look isn't lost on her, and there's a flash of something in her eyes that indicates she'd like to explain--but it would take longer than they have time for. "Can do," she replies, holding out her hands to indicate she's ready to help him with the gear he needs her to strap together. "I have everyone meeting outside of Alexandria. I'm going to scry for Telamon--he doesn't have his totem on him, so it should work, and I can still hear him and feel him in the mental bond."

There's a scowl on her lips. "Zalgiman fed him something. A potion of some sort. Tel thinks it's a curse of some kind. I would bet money it's lycanthropy."

"Eluna's temple can counter that," Dolan answers at once and turns, not first to the gear, but to a box of some kind, near a pair of small bowls sitting on the floor by what appears to be a new sofa. From this box, he tips what look to be small pieces of dried fish into one of the bowls, grabs a waterskin, and fills the other one to the brim. The box gets set aside, back into a stack high enough to be nearly out of reach, but the waterskin is taken over towards where his gear is stashed in a corner. "As long as we get to him fast enough. I'll need to buy some silversheen from them on the way out."

As he speaks, he reaches for the breastplate, half-strapped together, and ducks into it, then turns so that Cor'lana can reach the buckles on his left side. "Tighten them to where the leather is stretched, it'll guide you," he says, twisting to do the same thing on his right.

Cor'lana takes up the buckles and repeats the motion that Dolan shows. She's a quick study with the details, at least. "I need to buy a few things as well," she says. "Scrolls. I know we will have several spellcasters, but I need to be able to get us there and back."

Normally she'd comment on the new sofa and the bowls set out for Andelena's cats (as they are forever known), but her attention is firmly on this. Firmly on the preparation for war. "I hope we're fast enough," she murmurs. A crack of fragility in her voice.

"Me too." When both sides are set, Dolan settles the breastplate in place and turns again, this time to reach for his weapon belt with the longsword on it. That is strapped on and settled, followed by what looks like a sash of white and gold cloth that he settles over his right shoulder to left hip. She's seen all of this before, on their adventures together, although the sheepskin jacket that goes over all is new. This he ducks into with his left arm, pulling it across and settling it with his right.

She'll know that there are a couple more pieces to go, but he stops here, and grabs an old scroll, an ink pen, and a vial of ink. This he flips over to leave on the nearest table, and writes quickly.

Andie,

The wolves have Tel. I'll be back as soon as I can.

You, me, and the Knight,

Bry

The vial is closed, the pen and vial tucked into a drawer, the scroll left out on the table. Then he turns back to the gear, ignoring a spot of ink on his finger to reach for a pair of vambraces. The left one he offers to Lana for assistance.

Watching Dolan write a letter to Andelena seems to get Cor'lana out of her worries, at least a little. "Sorry to drag you away from your lady," Cor'lana says. But she smiles a little as she goes to help Dolan with the vambraces. "She seems like the understanding type, though. At least from everything you've ever told me."

"She might not understand this one." Dolan stops a moment, staring at the floor. "I pray to the Knight she does, this time. She might be pretty mad, but I haven't got a choice. There isn't time to go find her." He waits until the bracer is secured, then grabs the other one and props up a knee to do the same with it. It only takes a moment, but when it's done, he lets out a hard breath and settles the weapon belt with its various pouches. "Not bringing the totems. If we do, we put them at risk, and we ain't working in the Dream, so we don't need 'em."

He strides over to the wall, and grabs a pair of cloaks that she is quite familiar with. With that done, he pulls the stylized dragon pendant out of his shirt, and looks around as he clasps the paired cloaks at his throat.

"If she's really upset, I'll send you two a splendid gift of some sort as means of apology. This is on my shoulders, not yours," Cor'lana replies. She does sound remorseful, but the grim look in her eyes is still there. Her need for aid is too great.

She looks at Dolan for a moment. "I had been thinking about bringing mine," she says. "Mine and Telamon's. If he's being afflicted by lycanthropy, though--maybe bringing the totem is a bad idea."

At once, Dolan's head turns fully towards Cor'lana, and he shakes his head, hair flying. "Don't. If this goes badly, we place any totem we bring at risk. We move fast, we get in there, get Telamon, and get the fuck out. We get Zalgiman if we can." He reaches for the small pack, slinging it over his shoulder and ignoring the greatsword, and turns towards her. "Let's go."

"I don't think we're getting Telamon without getting Zalgiman," Cor'lana replies, eyes dark. "If I get Tel back and leave Zalgiman alive, he'll just take him again. I have to live in fear if he's left alive. And I promised..."

Her voice trails off as she looks soberly at the direction of the door. She finds the words to say.

"I promised," is all she says. "Let's go." She walks to the door and opens it for Dolan.

That cryptic statement leaves the Corona staring at Cor'lana again, his entire face, for once, expressionless. It's an unusual thing, and purely an inquisitor thing, but Dolan doesn't waste time. With one last backwards glance at the cluttered flat, he turns and strides out the door, pulling out his key to lock up. "Go on. I'll lock up."

And he does, following Cor'lana out to the meeting point, with only a brief stop or two.