A Veiled Journey (Part 8)

"Sssisster?" Zeke repeats, stunned and confused. This man has a bearing that makes him feel small. Makes him reminded of his inferiority. Yet even as he is reminded of that he stands taller. One can only make you feel small if you let them. He will not allow this. Not anymore. Yet he looks to Seldan for answers. Because he can not remember which of the soft-skin connections a 'sister' is.

The Goblin is staring first at her hands, and then the never known mithril armor that now clads her.

"Female sibling.", she says to Zeke. "Female... clutch-mate?"

Acedia also looks to Seldan, likely the same question in her eyes as the others. "Uhm. Well now we truly see the challenge, don't we?"

"As I would be, were I a woman," Seldan mutters quickly to Zeke, then straightens up, the nature of the problem at hand becoming clear and the Veil's words suddenly holding meaning for him. He, too, seems affected by the sheer grandness of Menesil before him, but instead of shrinking down, he stands taller. Stronger, as one preparing to face an adversary.

"The Frostwraith is no more," he answers, much more gently than one might expect, for his stance. "Look around you, Your Majesty. Who remains to you?

Malik's features -- don't seem to change that much. Even in the elven transformation, there's something distinctly Malik under them all. The man might have elven heritage not that far back in his bloodline. But he stands straight, tall, watching this interplay with fascination as he, too, looks to Seldan for answers -- possibly not the same ones that Zeke is seeking, questioning what the man's words mean.

Serene's lips part briefly, a sliver of white teeth briefly bared as she, like the others, feels the weight of the figure's majesty press upon her. She doesn't stand taller, though she certainly doesn't shrink... instead she folds her arms, as is her habit, when she's settling in for what might prove to be a lengthy discussion to be witnessed.

"Excellent," remarks the ruler. He is the ruler.

Big as legend.

He slowly turns his eyes upon the rest of the group as each of you speak, his eyes going towards Zeke and then Seldan and then back and forth once.

"All remain to me," he tells them, "All is well, all is well." A smile, beatific and warm.

"Yet, more remains before us that we mus accomplish if we are to prevail in saving all that we love. We must not stray from the path of the Dawn. Have the Titans sent us their wisest?"

GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/history: (4)+10: 14
GAME: Zeke rolls knowledge/history: (2)+2: 4

Acedia's head cants from side to side as Mensil speaks of Titans, and of all being well. She glances sideways at Zeke. "Oh good, I wasn't looking forward to asking that. But we know what illusion was meant now, I think?"

She looks to Seldan again, curious as to his reply. Titans are way, way outside her area of knowledge.

GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (20)+25: 45

"Lean upon me, do you find yourself confused, kin." Seldan turns to Zeke, his gaze steady and gentle, then back to Menesil. " "They shall not come, Your Majesty." He sounds weary. "All is not well, and great was the price to defeat the Frostwraith. I would ask of you to share with us the path that you see before us."

Malik remains silent for the time, though he gives Seldan a raised eyebrow -- and the supposed king a healthy amount of side-eye. There are *questions* in the wizard's face, and no small measure of doubts, too. Voicing those, however, would likely be less than productive right now, and so he remains silent.

Serene maintains her silence as well, perhaps for similar reasons to Malik's, or perhaps simply judging it wise to do nothing to distract Menesil from Seldan and Zeke's lines of inquiry. She also remains tense. There is nothing relaxing about this situation.

His repose is interrupted by Seldan's words, and Zeke's as well. "I see my loyal subjects. Look, how they bow, how they kneel. We must know our betters, don't you think?" Then steel in his voice.

"Why do you not kneel?"

Eyes lock on Seldan, then, as well.

His hands tighten.

"A path of glory everlasting. Of peace and joy, where shadows never again fall upon our people. We must open the way to the future, don't you think? Where never again must we suffer. Everlasting glory, life, and joy. It will be our's again."

His words are those of a man convincing himself, of course, even if the truth is all around this chamber.

Zeke hissses. Wrinkling his nose at the man and then shaking his head. "If we are kin, thisss one doess not kneel to you." He replies, looking at Seldan. Menesil is beyond delusional. How can they convince him of reality?

"Oh. I do see." Ace slowly crosses her arms. "I, too, do not kneel."

She glances at Seldan once again, and then back at Zeke, and once more Mensil. "If you do not wish people to suffer, why make them bow and scrape?"

She gestures to the people around them. "Why do you want them to fear you?"

Seldan merely closes his eyes and lowers them as the questions mount, and the others begin to speak. He seems to be thinking hard, but does not kneel, either.

"It is time to wake up, King," Serene says, remaining as she is as well. "Your fight is over. Your dream is holding your people back."

The room grows quiet. The whispers -- were there whispers around you yet unheard? -- seem to fade away and the silence is now loud enough in its own way to send a shiver down the spine of most.

Menthil rises up, slowly, as if the gravity of his position all but weighs him down into the Dawncaller's throne.

"... you /dare/? You believe this? Truly? And yet, one of you remains silent. I sense ... doubt."

His eyes sweep over each of you, not seeing you but seeing his own presumption.

His lips curl. Disdain. No one does disdain like an elven king it would seem. Still, he seems... rattled, if not swayed.

With Seldan silent, Zeke lapses into silence as well. In truth though, the sith-makar has little to say. He has no doubt of course that Menesil is in need of forgiving, but that the man can not see that it is necessary. He can offer it, but it will mean nothing to Menesil. The man's distain is chilling, but he stands strong in the face of it, at Seldan's side.

"Yes, we dare. Here, in this place, and only this place, you are king. Outside? You are forgotten. A legend. A myth. While your people languish." The Gobbo straightens, trying to appear taller, though the illusion manages this nicely.

"You've slept away the centuries here."

"I do not doubt, Dawncaller." Seldan looks up, and draws himself up, his gaze once again steady. "For my companions speak truly, if roughly, and I seek a means that I might show you what we see." He meets that disdain with his own steady gaze. "One who is blinded by the light cannot see what lurks in the shadows. Look to the shadows, Dawncaller. For they surround us more closely than you know."

Serene allows herself a small dip of her head. "Great kings do not have the luxury of seeing only what they wish to see. This knight speaks truly. Look about you. Truly see."

The elven king might think that he has a monopoly on disdain. But Malik looks like he's trying to match him scowl for scowl, the tsuran clearly unimpressed with this delusional wraith and has grand demands.

No one does utter dismissal quite like a wizard. The invisible sneer, felt rather than seen, is just the flavoring that comes with that wizard being a tsuran.

"What is this?" His voice rises. It fills the room. Echoes, reverberates inside of you. Like he has a direct connection to your minds. Perhaps in this place, he does?

He rises up. Big as legend. No, bigger. The shadows loom dangerously around you. "The boons you would have been granted, the treasures that would have been yours. No more. You will earn nothing until you redeem yourselves for this slander. I've no time to be insulted in my own court, not when the fate of the kingdom hangs in the balance. But I am a merciful King..."

And yet, for all the size of his legend, has a king ever seemed so small?

GAME: Zeke rolls diplomacy: (10)+11: 21

Zeke stares at the man and suddenly it clicks to him and with horror he whispers. "He isss like thisss onesss nessst mother." He looks at the man with pity, with understanding that comes only from having been at the hand of someone like this for years. Centuries. Someone who lived in a world that only they could see, who kept others trapped in an endless cycle of violence that they could not shake.

He straightens suddenly and moves to stand before his allies. To take the brunt of this man's attention in a way he had never been able to stare down his own nest-mother. For all the fear in him, for all his uncertainty, he has never backed down when someone needed him. Not now. Not ever. "Thissss one will not let you hurt othersss for the sssake of a reality that doesss not exissst. You are not merscyful. You are not kind. You are trapping everyone in your fear. Your own ssself-loathing! You are tearing them apart becaussse you refussse to sssee the truth! No more."

He looks up at the other man, proud. Sith-makar. "There isss light on the other ssside Menesssil. There isss hope, but unlesss you turn toward it you will never ssee it. Take thissss onesss hand. Be forgiven. Asscept the harm that you have causssed and move beyond it. Pleassse. Do not be afraid any-longer." He holds out his claw.

GAME: Seldan rolls diplomacy: (2)+20: 22

Acedia's eyebrows rise up slightly as Zeke takes the lead, and she shifts her posture slightly, her arms falling to her side.

GAME: Malik rolls Diplomacy: (5)+23: 28

-TBC