A Historical Shrine

Fate's Spire, the Monastery

Autumn has settled over the land like a wet, chilly blanket, with dark clouds and stiff winds. The road is quiet, with hardly a soul walking or riding it save for a few lone monks.

The Monastery is being prepared for Winter, with supplies having arrived recently, and being unloaded by monks and priests, the Monastery's stores being filled.

Inside, the place is warm and cheerful, with numerous fireplaces in use. Simony's room now sports a small, wood-burning stove, with the metal chimney leading out through the lower half of the room's window. Upon the Goblin's table is a small shrine, the central point being a small, silver figure of Navos. Around the statuette are numerous small offerings, along with several lit candles in small holders.

Simony herself is settled at her small desk, which is completely covered in papers, filled with sketches.

The cold and chill may be unpleasant, but it doesn't stop or hinder everyone. Especially a certain elegant half-elven sorcerer who pays his respects here now and again. It's not hard to get directions (especially with Tel and his winning personality) and soon he's standing in front of the door to Simony's room.

He raises his hand, pauses to listen for a moment, then nods slightly and raps on the door. Three quick but sure knocks, the sound of someone cheerful and intent on saying hello to a friend.

The Goblin makes a small noise of surprise, which is then followed by a gasp, and the sound of little feet running across the floor. Her customary hug is thrown at the man's waist. "Telamon!", she says cheerfully, quickly followed by someone SHHHHHHHH'ing her. Tugging at his hand, she gestures for him to come in, the door being closed quietly.

"I'm happy to see you! Uhm. How did you keep your hair so neat and tidy when it's so windy out." Simony's own hair seems to have born witness to the winds of the day, and left unkept, in need of a good brushing. "How're you and Cor'lana, and the rest of your motley family?"

Telamon smiles and oofs ever so slightly, but he hugs Simony back all the same. She's a sturdy goblin, after all, and Tel is a bit on the slender side. Once they're inside, though, he's happy to talk. "Oh, this? I carry a comb," he says with a grin, eyes twinkling. "It -is- a bit windy out, isn't it? Autumn has arrived." He makes a face. "Probably going to be a snowy winter too. Make sure they lay in plenty of firewood or charcoal."

He settles down crosslegged on the floor, so Simony doesn't have to crane her head up at him, and nods. "We're doing well. Pieces moving into play." His expression becomes blank for a moment, and then he winks with one eye. "That being said..." he pauses, his gaze wandering over to the little shrine to Navos, and he smiles again. "So they let you keep it? I figured it would've wound up in the main nave or something."

Simony shivers lightly, "Oh they are. We're going to have lots of wood to chop over the Winter. Keeps us warm in more ways than one." She smile is faint, and she nods. "It was interesting to meet Grandfather. And a little scary. Does he uhm dislike Corpse-Eater? Will he be upset or happy if that creature is sent on to the Grey Halls?"

She glances at the statuette and shrine. "Oh, I am only holding into it temporarily! I told them I had a perfect idea for it." The Gobbo hurries over to her desk, returning a few moments later with a small stack of paper, which is laid out across the floor before Telamon. "Would you like some tea, Tel? I've been making a flavouorful sort of tea, it has orange pieces mixed in, named after some Earl or whatever."

A kettle is set upon the stove, and she chatters on while she sets up her tea service. "So as you can see over there, it will be made from marble. There will be a little spot where the statuette will stand, and it will be partly protected from the elements. But I plan on asking the city if I can put it in the gardens. Anyways, on the backside of this, there will be a birdbath, and a spot to put birdfeed. At the base, there will be room for putting incense and offerings and candles."

"Dislike," Telamon seems to roll the word around in his mouth. "That... sets a new record for understatement, Simony. Suffice to say that the Rook, and Grandfather, have a history -- and it is only an oath that keeps them from each other's throats." He offers a faint smile. "But no. Do not fret about the repercussions if the Corpse-Eater comes to a bad end."

He straightens a bit, stretching, as he watches Simony bustle about. "Yes please. Something hot to drink would be nice and I'd rather discuss your shrine than ... well, other things." He begins going through Simony's sketches, humming a little tune.

"Well, I like the concept and style of it. It reminds me a bit of the outdoor shrine at the temple to Vardama, where people leave joss offerings." His eyes twinkle. "I'm sure the birds will adore it."

"Well, I was unsure, and I didn't have the courage to bring up that beast's name in front of Grandfather." The Goblin nods lightly. "I am more concerned about the uhm... deception. Cor'lana and yourself are doing okay with it? I know it has to be wearying to keep up the charade."

Simony nods, smiling brightly again. "I admit to borrowing a little bit of its style." She giggles lightly. "I hope so... it's for the birds. I wonder, though, was it the birds who made it, or Navos himself?" Her glances goes to the silver figure of her God, and she makes the sign of the hourglass.

Telamon raises his hand, and taps his temple. "This helps," he says simply. "It's... a feint, within a feint, within a feint. And it wears on both of us. We... soothe ourselves with the knowledge it's an illusion, and that he won't be able to avoid indulging his taste for sadism forever. And once he slithers out..." He clenches a fist. "I intend to offer him the chance to swear an oath to change his ways, to leave us be. But if he does not, well... I won't shy away from doing something permanent either."

He takes a few deep breaths, eyes glowing briefly with starlight, before subsiding. Turning his mind back to something cheerful, he nods. "I could believe it was a sign from Navos. Birds make poor silversmiths, even if Pothy did paint the curuchuil for Lana and I."

The Goblin steps closer for another hug, made easier by the fact that Telamon is seated upon the ground. "Still, remember that you both have friends you can lean on for support." A wee, warm hand pats his cheek lightly, Simony turning as the noise in the kettle changes. She gets there just as the whistling starts.

She carries over the small tray, teapot and two mugs, and sets it on a nearby chair "A moment or two to steep. So, how have the preparations been going for Winter at your house?"

He hugs her back, the tension in his shoulders relaxing a bit. "I try to. Thank you, Simony." Telamon lets her go get the kettle and the cups, tilting his head slightly as if hearing something before smiling again.

"Well, it helps that Seraquoix didn't damage the roof when he had his little tantrum. And I paid good money for the renovation, so the house is snug and secure. Plenty of wood laid in for the fireplace and stove. It helps both of us are pretty resistant to cold anyways."

He ticks things off on his fingers. "I've fished my frostrider coat out of storage -- it's stylish and it keeps the wet off. Lana's heavy cloak has been pulled out and tidied up. Food and tea are stocked and ready. Bring on the next snowfall." He grins impishly.

"You're most welcome, Telamon.", she says with a grin. "Yes, your house is splendid. I am glad to have spent the time I did, inside and up close. And whomever painted the ceiling did a fantastic job!" The Gobbo snorts and giggles lightly. "The preparations here have gone well. Lots of wood stored up, and we get these nifty little stoves. I can make my own water, so I hardly have to leave my room if I don't wish to."

Simony starts to collected the scattered sketches. "If the stonesmith allows, I may try my hand at a bit of stonework. Just to get a feel for it. I can't wait to see this made and done. I think it's a nice gift for the city, and for the birds in the gardens."

Telamon laughs softly. "Well, I know things are less dire these days than they could have been. The farmers of Alexandros got a bit of a helping hand this season, thanks to adventurers brokering a deal with an Ea-bound fey who offered to assist. Seems to have worked out well." He nods. "No one will starve this winter."

He takes a moment to peer at the clever little stove, studying it, as he taps his fingertips together contemplatively. "Do they just... pack it away in the summer months? I'm surprised it's not a permanent fixture." He grins at Simony. "It never hurts to broaden your horizons. I'm sure you'd make a good mason and stoneworker."

Simony lets out a sigh of relief. "And that's good news. Especially for our feathered friends, and the furry ones that you helped make a town for. Maybe, just maybe, we can have a peaceful Winter. I think everyone could use the break." Turning away again, the Gobbo busies herself pouring tea.

"As far as I can tell, it's seasonal. It's done that way because if everyone was using a stove in here, it'd be pretty hot. Without the stoves, this place remains nice and cool in the summer. It's only a few fireplaces and stoves, for the kitchen and for some of our ceremonies and rituals."

She offers Telamon a mug filled with a golden brown liquid. "Milk? Sugar cubes?"

Telamon takes the mug from Simony with a grin. "Just the tea. I don't usually add much -- especially if it's a new kind I want to try. You can always add things later." Sipping, his expression is thoughtful. "That makes sense. You don't need the whole monastery to be heated with all those stoves in summertime."

He smiles a little at Simony's plea for a little peace. "Now that I can definitely agree with. Just... tie off a few loose ends, and then take it easy. If only for winter. Let me help build snowmen and mediate snowball fights, not have to fight for my life."

Her grin is broad and toothy when he mentions snowball fights. 'You know, we could have fun with that. We could arrange a big snowball fight, invite everyone, spend a few hours thwapping each other, and then retiring to a big feast with toasts, and delicious desserts. Or something like that. Something to round out the year with."

Simony adds a dollop of milk and several sugar cubes, before she stirs vigorously. "My father would love to hear that I'd become a smith of some sort. But I think he'd love it more if I was a blacksmith like he is. Mother would have a fit. Which would make my father laugh." Her expression takes on a far away look as she sips at her tea.

He laughs softly. "I once let some neighborhood children immure me in a snowman last winter. It was rather amusing. But yes... something happy, something to smile about. A celebration of sorts." Telamon takes another sip of his tea. "Sometimes, we have to rest."

At her far away look, Tel inquires gently, "Do they live far away? Or are they in Goblintown? It can be hard, not quite fitting into the expectations people have. But you have to find your own path."

"They're not too far away. A small Goblin village near Bludgun. Erm. I left as soon as I was an adult. When my mother didn't scare me any more. Couldn't hold me back. Father let her do the parenting, and he is the village smith."

"I do miss them. But I don't feel up to going back yet. It was a long walk from there to here. And I have responsibilities here. And friends close enough I consider to be family now."

The Gobbo sips at her tea a little more, letting a little sigh.

Telamon reaches over to put a hand on Simony's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Our lives sometimes take us down strange paths. But I for one don't regret mine, and I hope you don't regret yours." He offers a smile. "And if you need someone to back you up if you do go back, well... I'm always up for a trip."

"Ylvaliel is kind of similar to Alexandria in some ways. It's a border town for the Mythwood, so you'll see all sorts there. Traders, diplomats, merchants, adventurers. It's a good place to grow up." Tel rubs his chin, grinning. "We need to schedule that trip to check out Father's library, you know."

Her hand reaches up to pat his, and the Gobbo shakes her head. "Regret? No, I don't regret my path so far. I've met wonderful people, fought horrible monsters, felt the agony of defeat and the exultance of victory. I've .. I've fallen in love, and known the depths of sadness in loss. Things that may have passed me by had I remained in my sleepy, little home town."

Simony sips at her tea, her expression thoughtful. "Oohh, right, there was a book, wasn't there? I think I will fit better there than you would in our burrows. Know how to shapeshift into a smaller humanoid?" Her scratchy laugh is full of mischief.

Telamon chuckles softly. "I agree with you. I didn't expect everything that happened, when I came to Alexandria. But... I don't regret it. Not one bit. Like you said, we'd have never experienced all these things if we'd stayed home." He touches the mark on his left hand, the feather-wreath and stars of his curuchuil. "Every day is a gift and an adventure."

He actually ponders the question, before shaking his head. "Sadly, no, my magic hasn't taken me in that direction. So it might be easier to visit my home before trying to visit yours." He shrugs lightly, grinning. "Can't have everything. For starters, where would you put it?"

"Indeed. Every day on the right side of the grass is a good day, and it certainly has been an adventure so far." Her expression turns a little melancholic, and she takes a long sip of her tea. "A year end celebration sounds like a really good idea now. For us. For those we lost. For those who are yet to come."

Canting her head slightly, Simony snorts. "Yes, yes you can. As any dragon, they should know best. But. I'd rather know love and lose it, to know joy and sadness, to hurt and bleed... than have all the gold in the world. It could never fill me the way my life has from the day I left, to the day I die."