Arming Against the Corpse-Eater

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Log Info

  • Title: Arming Against the Corpse-Eater
  • Emitter: Rune
  • Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

Once, Rune might have thought that the Corpse-Eater was just another powerful being of evil that had a particular hard-on for the Lúpecyll-Atlon clan. They seem to attract those. However, the recent revelation that he is also responsible for the state of the Golden Fate and her mother, has hit Rune like a ton of bricks.

It probably hasn't helped that Harkashan nearly died within the past week or so. She has a lot weighing on her mind.

So, it is likely no surprise that she would be found heading towards the estate of her friends, though in a state that is distracted at best. The sort of distracted where someone could wave a hand in front of her face and she may not notice it right away.

The problem about walking while distracted is that it's really easy to miss some things. At least until they're buzzing... almost right up to the ear.

That's the case with a pair of wings that overtake Rune's shoulder, a bird landing in front of her. It's a raven. A bird with violet eyes, but then the bird transforms into a more well-dressed man, someone who could be mistaken for a shadow elf were it not for how tall he is, nor the soft glow of his violet eyes. He's dressed in a waistcoat, a fine shirt, and tailored pants that look like they could have been stolen from Telamon's wardrobe.

"Leirune," comes the warm and deep voice of Grandfather, "how nice to meet you out on the street. Are you going to visit my granddaughter?" He sounds quite hopeful on that remark. "If so, I'd like to offer you the courtesy of my escort."

As the bird lands before her, there is a moment where Rune blinks, her brain taking a second to catch up to the visual stimulus of flapping wings and then the sudden emergence of the far too hot for this plane of existance Fey being.

She stutter-steps back, looking up towards the familiar features of Cor'lana's grandfather. "Y...yes." She seems to stumble a bit over her words before nodding her head. "Sorry, I was... lost in thought."

As he offers to be her escort, she seems to return to herself and then nods her head, "Of course. These days, it's not like we can't be too careful." She inclines her head, hair dipping forward across her forehead. "I was... hoping to have a word with her about our recent revelations. Preparations. Next steps. That sort of thing."

She is being quite vague. A habit that was likely picked up during the time when Marsward could have been watching from any corner. It feels much the same, these days.

Grandfather holds his arm out for Rune to take, a gentleman of a high calibur in every way (or so it seems), and then he walks in a slow, strolling sort of way. "I understand, of course," he replies. "That will be a discussion best left for the four walls inside."

There's a small curve of the lips as he says, "I wanted to give Cor'lana her tea replenishment; I know she's got the lavender growing in the garden when it's in season on this plane, but it's well past its season now. I didn't want her to be without." A little pause before he adds, "Fortunately, it's not considered gauche where I'm from to discuss flowers and bloodshed in the same breath."

As they get close to the front door of the Lúpecyll-Atlon house, the blonde pixie known as Lily-of-the-Valley pokes her head out of a nearby bush, greeting, "Hello Ruuu--oooooooohNOPEPLEASEDON'TEATME~" before she ducks back into the safety of the bush's leaves, trembling hard enough to make the bush seem like it's shivering from the cool autumn air.

Grandfather's violet eyes stare daggers at the pixie. "You had better be on your best behavior," he says in a voice that is certainly a threat, like the edge of a cold iron blade, before he looks at Rune, the smile finding itself on his face again like the malice that had been there a moment before hadn't been present at all. "Shall I knock, or would you like the honors?" he asks far more jovially.

Walking arm-in-arm with a hot elven man probably is not going to do her any favors when it comes to what the Crimson Pen writes about her, but there is little she can do to change that. So, she simply walks along side him, her pace slightly quicker to keep up.

"Aye. The last of the flowers have died out for the season. I know, I've been buying up the few I can still find from the traders." Her hand lifts up to flick at the uncharacteristically white tips of her hair. "Trying to make some dye before the cold sets in."

She doesn't seem bothered in the least at both bloodshed and flowers in the same discussion. What does surprise her is the pixie's reaction to him. Rune stands for a brief moment, looking from the bush, to the Fey man, and back again. "Do you... make a habit of eating pixies?" She asks, looking both perlexed and amused.

At the invitation, though, she nods her head and raps her knuckles against the door.

"Perhaps I ought to grow the flowers you use for your hair," Alud'rigan says with a small smile. "I was growing the flowers we used for Auranar's hair when she lived with me. I'll have to pay her a visit soon, I think."

He doesn't quite get the opportunity to comment on eating pixies when the door opens and Cor'lana's staring at Rune arm-in-arm with her grandfather. "Hello, Rune--please don't tell me you've seduced my grandfather," Lana says first to Rune.

"We wouldn't be here if that was the case," Alud'rigan says in a voice that's a little low and playful, a grin spreading on his lips. This earns a sigh from his granddaughter. "No, I simply found Rune was also headed the same way and did what was proper. May we enjoy your company and hearth for a time?"

"Come in out of the cold," Cor'lana responds, opening the door a little wider. "I've got tea on. Pothy's asleep in the study."

"It's sweet of you to offer, but you don't have to go out of your way. If any blue or purple flowers happen to grow in your realm and you think to set them aside, I'd be glad to take them, though." Rune admits. "Most of the time, I have trade for those from Am'shere. They have a much longer growing season."

As Cor'lana opens the door and makes that comment about just why Rune might be walking with her Grandfather, Rune smirks, "Tales of my seduction abilities have been badly overrated, I'm afraid."

She releases Alud'rigan's arm and offers a warm smile to Cor'lana. "I promise, my intentions are pure, even if my mind very much is not so. I swear." Hand on heart.

Entering the house, Rune gives one glance back towards the door, waiting until it is closed before explaining, "I... wanted to talk about recent events and... a certain mutual enemy."

"I mean, it's not like I can do anything about it even if you did have impure intentions," Cor'lana murmurs as she walks inside as the front door's closed and locked up. "Grandfather's perfectly capable of... picking and choosing partners."

Grandfather's just smirking the entire time. "I'm sure Cor'lana knows a bit about overestimated seduction abilities," he says. "How many men is the Temptress of Alexandria up to now in the Crimson Pen series?"

Cor'lana shakes her head and gets to pouring tea in the living room, where Grandfather takes his seat in the rocking chair. Once he does so, his form shifts again, and he is once more dressed in his open-chested robes and mantle of feathers, the large talons flexing a couple of times as though they're enjoying freedom. "Yes," Cor'lana says, "I have... an update on a certain mutual enemy, too."

She lifts up her hair and reveals a spot on her neck. Something that's healed but hasn't quite gone away yet. "I made the mistake of trying to pull on Grandfather's gifts in an area with an unstable leyline, which opened a rift to Quelynos, and... The Corpse-Eater stepped through it and bit me quite hard on the neck. It seems the injuries he inflicts are cursed ones. The only reason we were able to get it to stop bleeding is because Seldan has the ability to lift the curse from cursed wounds."

"Of course you could. You're my friend and you know I wouldn't actually do anything that would make you uncomfortable." Rune tilts her head a little, her expression genuine. She truly does hope that Cor'lana believes her in that, at least. "But... you can't blame a girl for looking." She half-shrugs with no shame at all.

"Don't get me started on the Crimson Pen." Rune may be a little sore about the fact that a recent novel, focusing on Harkashan, has her portrayed as a fainting damnsel with a parasol. Grump.

Following into the living room, Rune leans forward as she takes a seat, her eyes immediately going to the place that the sorceress indicates and offering a low whistle. "Fuck. You're okay now, though... right?" She asks, brows raised. "Well... at least that's some measure of knowledge we didn't have. Just need to make sure the healers beg a few of those spells from their god before we try to deal with him again."

And that is where she pauses, rotating a ring around her finger before looking back up again, "Do you think he's taken your bait?" Rune is likely referring to the tale of Cor'lana's 'werewolf' pregnancy.

Alud'rigan seems to have abandoned all notion of sitting the moment that Cor'lana reveals that the Corpse-Eater bit her. He stands up to his full height and walks over to Cor'lana, inspecting her neck for himself and then pulling her into a tight hug. "My sweet child," he murmurs. "Darling bird. I wish that I could tear apart that infernal cousin of mine for ever hurting you... But I will abstain, so that I would not repeat my moment of weakness from many years ago. Someone should kill him this time, for good."

"We will, Grandfather," Cor'lana promises Alud'rigan, before looking to Rune with a small and sympathetic smile for Rune's concern. "I'm fine now. And... Yes, I think he has. He asked me if I knew that Telamon knows about the baby--before I banished him with a spell, sending him back to Quelynos."

"So talented," Alud'rigan murmurs, lovingly patting down Cor'lana's hair now.

Cor'lana can't help but smile wider for Grandfather's compliment and the pride in his voice. "You'll need people with the capability of removing curses on hand," she says. "But the ability to do so is not limited entirely to those with divine gifts. Sorcerers can, in fact, as well as wizards, witches, and bards. Telamon and I will have to have that spell scribed down for us in our preparations."

"Having seen that blade of yours, I wouldn't be surprised if you could rend him limb from limb easily enough." Rune comments, having missed the opportunity to note Alud'rigan's weapon the last time she had seen him. There is some curiousity about what might have happened 'many years ago', but she doesn't pry.

"I'll make sure that Harkashan starts carrying the ability, though. Once he's back on his feet, anyways. He's still not quite back to normal after our run in with that Death Coach." Rune leans forward a little, proping her arms on her knees a bit. There's obvious guilt she carries in her features, but she's heard from enough people, enough times, that it isn't her fault, that she doesn't speak of it.

"Unfortunately, it's not a capability that people like me have." Rune smirks slightly. "My skills, at least when it comes to a fight, are best summed up as 'right stabby' and 'left stabby'." At least she has some humor about it. "That's... kind of why I wanted to talk to you. There's been a run on cold iron due to a few too many demons making a mess of things as of late. And any sort of powerful enchantment could take weeks."

She looks up, "I talked to Irshya, Aelwyn, Slixvah... they're all on board to help as well, when the time comes. But I need to understand what sort of preparations we could do. I haven't a clue about most magical abilities, and Aelwyn and I are in the same boat being largely physical fighters."

"My people are bound by words and oaths," Alud'rigan says, looking at Rune as she asks about preparations. "If we make an arrangement, we must honor that arrangement, or suffer the wrath of the consequence that we have sworn. It is common to swear oblivion by the Wild Hunt if an oath is particularly dire."

"Such as an oath I have made in the past to wield a weapon that belonged to another," Cor'lana details, although the tension in her eyes and expression suggests that she doesn't want to do so again, nor to elaborate on that oath. "If you're tricky enough, you could get the Corpse-Eater to swear an oath that may be unfavorable to him in the future. Grandfather made the Corpse-Eater swear an oath to not harm Grandfather, Grandfather's wife, or his home, for instance."

"I ought to have ended his life instead of making him swear such an oath," Grandfather growls. "But he was on the brink of death--I had beaten him soundly for laying a hand on my wife--and I did not want Lana'lel, my wife, to witness his murder by my hands. It was death or swear an oath. You could, potentially, meet with him--under the guise of 'aiding' him with his plans to put Telamon and Cor'lana against each other--and get him to swear an oath."

He looks grim. "Such a thing is... Tricky, and not something I advise lightly."

At first, Rune doesn't seem to quite understand where the topic is going. Fey oaths and their consequences seem like an interesting story, but she doesn't make the connection that this is a suggestion until Grandfather raises the idea of trying to fool the Corpse-Eater into thinking they were acting against Cor'lana and Telamon.

"While... I'm a fairly proficient liar when I want to be, it's not exactly something I enjoy." Rune explains, "Besides, I'm not sure anyone would believe that I would aid him in anything." With a shake of her head, she presses her lips together, "Honestly, I can't imagine most people wanting to do so and managing to make it believable."

"I guess... what I'm trying to figure out is what I can do. What spells can I advise our allies to prepare? What scrolls, potions, equipment should we bring?" Rune, it seems, is better with tangible tasks. Things she can touch and feel. "Right now, I've got cold-iron blades, but they're as basic as they come. I just... feel like we'll need more than that to go up against him."

Cor'lana looks thoughtful for a moment. "He's an evil creature, there's no mistake about that," she says. "The hallow spell on the house prevents him from walking in. So, a spell like protection from evil or magic circle against evil will be helpful against possession, or against shrugging off anything that he might do. Anything that protects against fear is helpful, too--I know that Telamon's felt him use an aura of fear before to send Telamon running away."

She smiles and says, "And--take it from me, you'll want to invest in potions of a lesser restoration spell, too, but on a general basis--more than just the Corpse-Eater. Otherwise you might be forced to crawl on the ground without much in the way of strength, and even if you have a spellcaster with that spell prepared--it takes a long amount of time for it to cast. More time than you'd likely have."

"Cor'lana's sister, Auranar, has been in contact with a huntress that has been training her to kill the Corpse-Eater," Alud'rigan replies. "You'll want her by your side, as well."

For all that Rune speaks of her lack of any magical knowledge or prowess, what she can do is communicate to those who do. Plucking out a bit of parchment from a scroll case tied to her side, she starts to jot things down. "I think I've seen some of those spells before. I think Harkashan might have used one against the Death Coach, fat lot of good it did him."

As for mention of fear, Rune's pencil stills. "I've felt the impact of that, myself. The first time I met him. It had all of us running for the hills." She shivers slightly, obviously unsettled by the memory. "Hark has this... armor that helps a bit with it, and I've been working on training my mind to have a bit better defenses. Though... with everything going on up there, I'm still more vulnerable than most." Rune seems to believe that her death, ressurection, and recurring nightmares have a lot to do with that.

"Any clue who I might be able to go to about getting some potions?" Rune asks, more to Cor'lana than to her Grandfather.

Mention of Auranar and a huntress has her looking curious, as well. "If there's any suggestions they might have for me, I'd be open to hearing them, as well. Most of what I'm good at is getting in close, finding weak points, and exploiting them."

"Telamon, actually, is an alchemist in his own right," Cor'lana says. "Beyond that, however, I'd suggest the marketplace, or the Society for Progressive Arcanists. Potions stop at the third circle of spells, so they're relatively plentiful for any mage with the know-how to produce."

Alud'rigan looks amused. "Not going to mention your husband's organization?" he asks her.

Cor'lana rolls her eyes. "Yes, the Shining Chalice might be of aid there. As far as other things go..." She tilts her head, thinking. "I seem to remember that Dolan's wife is a smith? But I'd double-check. Maybe she can help with weapon and armor enchantments."

And then Cor'lana frowns a little. "What happened with the death coach, exactly?" she asks. "I hope everything turned out okay."

"I'll let Harkashan know. He's usually the one that handles the spells and potions and that sort of nonsense. Besides... it will give him an excuse to get out of bed and go do something." Rune taps the pencil against the page, some worry still visible on her features.

"That's... a complicated story. The short of it is, we were investigating some strange deaths and ran into one. It targets those who have died and returned, so it came after me and Eztli." She explains, sitting back a little, "Thankfully, we had the spells to mostly deal with it, but... it nearly killed Harkashan. He looked like a walking corpse for days from whatever it did to him."

That must be where Rune has been for the past few days. "He's... mostly back to normal now. Just weak."

The mention of the Shining Chalice draws her attention, though. "Do you know if Telamon would know anything about... possibly near-immortal creatures that may or may not be corpses masquerading as other people?" This comes out of nowhere. Apparently Rune can't help but be dragged into things. "Not related to Mister Creepy. Corpse-Eater, that is. Just... something else that came up."

Cor'lana frowns heavily. "I'm so sorry to hear that Harkashan had to deal with that," she says. "And you, for that matter. Telamon and I went through... Something similar, recently, although I'm not really at full liberty to talk about it. He and I were... forced to endure visions of us being responsible for the other's death. He had the worst of it; he had the visions for longer than I did."

She sighs. "I think we've spent the past few days since then cuddled up together since then. Although we did spend our wedding anniversary in a conjured mansion Telamon set up."

Grandfather looks meaningfully at Cor'lana. "I hope that means we'll be celebrating children--real ones, not fictious ones with fur and claws--soon?"

Cor'lana grimaces. "Not... Quite yet." She looks at Rune then. "Near-immortal corpses masquerading as... other people? I haven't heard anything of such. Telamon could, perhaps."

Whatever Rune had gone through, she can also see just how deep the hurt Cor'lana and Telamon experienced had gone. She takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. "It's a real fucked time for all of us, huh? We're all okay, though. Still here, still breathing, still with the ones we care about." Some of this sounds as if she were repeating the words of others.

Pushing herself to her feet, Rune shakes out her hands, as if she were holding too much tension in them. "Something strange is always happening in this city. It never really lets us get a breather, does it?" Her lip quirks, but there is no real amusement there.

"Let your husband know I'd like a word, when he's able. Best case scenario, I'm reading way too much into something. Worst case... there's something dark afoot and I need to warn someone before they walk head first into it unknowingly."

She rolls the scroll up, tucking it away again in the case at her belt. "If... you can think of anything else, I'm sure you have ways of letting me know. I've got a few other people to talk to. Just... make sure I have a few days warning before we move, okay? That way we're as prepared as possible."

"This city never does let us sleep," Cor'lana agrees firmly. "There's something said about no rest for the wicked, but... I don't think there's any rest for the innocent, either. I'll let you know if things are in motion."

Grandfather finally lets go of Cor'lana, and he reaches into his feather mantle to produce a bag of loose-leaf tea, the lavender and mint concoction that is so adored in the Lúpecyll-Atlon household. "There's time to rest in the Halls," he says, "for those who live that are lucky enough to go there." There's a sad little note in his voice, something wistful, but he instead offers Cor'lana the bag of tea.

"Now then," he says, "I'd appreciate some help in the kitchen, if we are to have cookies." He gives Rune a sly little smile.

There are worse ways to get hands-on... with dough.