Padaryn a Padaryn

From Tenebrae
Jump to navigation Jump to search

The Temple District Plaza, early afternoon.

Earlier that morning, word had arrived from Seldan that his grandmother was again accepting visitors. He would like to go as soon as they may, and his family, while not noble, expect neat and presentable attire. It's now early afternoon, and a cold wind under a wan blue sky whisks a few dead leaves along the cobblestones. A few get caught in the legs of one of the benches near the fountain, rustling and trembling in the force of the breeze, then whisking away again.

The paladin stands now by the silent fountain in the plaza, now piled with snow both fallen and dumped, attired in a ruffled ivory shirt and fitted ochre trousers beneath a stiffly embroidered coat of spring green, curlicues worked in gold and cream thread and as long in the back as the blue and silver robe in which he is much more commonly seen. The front is partly cut away for ease of movement, in a high-low effect, but the sleeves are long to his wrist, and the garment appears quite warm and heavy. Over it is a brown wool cloak, untrimmed and with hood thrown back. Amid this color palette, the ice-blue eyes are starkly noticeable, but there can be no doubt that it flatters him much more than his usual choice. Reunion is strapped to his hip, but no armor is evident.

As if Telamon would not show up at his best. One of the half-elven sorcerer's vices is fine clothing, and today is no exception. He wears a dark silk tunic that changes color, shifting between deep blue and dark violet, depending on the angle one looks at it. This is matched to deep gray trousers, a cream stripe running down the outside of each leg, and tucked into polished boots embroidered with trees in green and silver outlines. His coat is a creamy white, trimmed at the hems with geometric symbols in silver, swirling around his calves. His hair caught back by his circlet, rings on his fingers, and a simple platinum chain of elven design hung around his neck. Hanging off his hip is his haversack, and his pace is steady and assured even over the snow.

As Telamon approaches Seldan, he offers a simple bow to the man, before giving a broad smile. "Her light upon your path, Sir Seldan. Am I early, or fashionably late?"

Zeke breathes out the cold air, ignoring the chill as much as he can. Thankfully his armor and the layers of cloth he wears are good insulation from the winter, but they don't cover all of him. His tail in particular and his right foot are uncomfortably cold. Sometimes he can understand why soft-skins wear those peculiar shoe-things. They must be warm.

He's dressed himself in his usual vestments which mark him notably as a cleric of the Dragonfather he serves, and he joins the others only a few moments after Telamon. The blue scale ducks his head in greeting. "Peasssce on your nessstsss."

Verna descends the mountain road to the temple square, protected from wind by a typical well-travelled gray cloak. Beneath it are flashes of pink and white from layered dress and stockings above polished black boots. "Good day to you all. I trust that I am not tardy?"

Seldan looks up from his quietly reserved contemplation, and turns towards the others, bowing politely as each approaches. Up close, while he, too, wears his usual circlet and rings, the chains around his neck disappear beneath the ornately buttoned front of the coat - the two that are visible. Some are not visible at all. He has opted for polished brown boots that go with the rest of his attire, rather than the low black shoes he usually wears in the city.

"Her light upon your path, all of you, and peace upon your nest also, kin. It is in my mind that you are fashionably early." A small ghost of a smile accompanies the words, but it is quick to disappear back into that quiet, almost stone-like reserve. "I am grateful that you answered so swiftly. We should make haste, while we may."

GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (15)+29: 44

GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (3)+15: 18

GAME: Seldan rolls bluff: (7)+15: 22

GAME: Zeke rolls Sense Motive: (8)+9: 17

Telamon just radiates good cheer, as if a vast weight has come off his shoulders. Which is the case, in fact. "Agreed. I don't want to get caught in another snowstorm." He flicks his hand idly, as if warding off an insect. "Oh, the cold doesn't bother me, but it's such a bother to navigate in one."

He smiles at Zeke and Verna as they arrive, and inclines his head. "Lana sends her affection of course. She'd have come along but we're untangling some last minute issues related to dealing with our late nemesis. But all is well, and I think things are going to work out." His eyes move back to Seldan at those last words, as if delivering that remark directly to the Silverguard.

Zeke tilts his head somewhat curiously at Telamon, but doesn't as the question that rises to his mind. If Telamon wishes to share words with him, then the other man will do so. He maintains his attention on Seldan, noticing the stiffness and the way his speech is carefully maintained. They're on their way to see Seldan's kin and it shows. "Thisss one isss ready."

The comment from Telamon draws a long look from Verna, pulling her attention away from Seldan. In the end, she does not make an inquiry; it is not the time, perhaps. The family matters at the fore at present are of the Paradryn variety, afterall. She returns her focus to the Silverguard and dips her head. "I am also prepared to travel, whatever the cause for haste."

Seldan merely inclines his head, with another of those ghostly-wan smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. "It is my hope that you are right, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon." _We shall see,_ read the unspoken words. "We should make for the gates, that we be outside the wards. I shall jump us. "I know not for how long Grandmother will be receiving visitors," he explains, "and I would see to this matter without making her wait overlong."

From an inside pocket in his coat, he fishes what all will recognize as the key to the manor, the very item with which he had locked up Ivyhold on departure. "We are, at the least, bearers of news that should please her."

"Indeed. As inconvenient as it is, there are also good reasons for the wards. Let's be about it." Telamon falls into step with the others, as the group begins to move. "So I am planning a wine tasting at the TarRaCe, and I'm pondering what to bring from my collection of experiments." He rubs his chin. "I wonder if some might be too subtle to be appreciated. And of course I'm sure -someone- is going to get completely wobble-legged."

He laughs softly. "Ah, it's good to have dilemmas that don't involve life or death situations, if only for a time." At Seldan's remarks, and the display of the key, Tel nods. "If nothing else, freeing Rhain and Cosette was a noble act. One that even if no one else recognizes, we do."

"It was," Verna concurs with Telamon concerning Cosette and Rhain. "I defer to your wisdom and experience concerning your grandmother's preferences and expectations. You would know them best, of course." To Telamon, she then nods. "An interaction with friends and family, as well. I welcome such that do not involve dire threats to life, limb, nor sanity; an unsettlingly rare occassion, it seems."

Zeke doesn't add to the conversation at the moment, merely nodding once to Seldan in acknowledgement of his words and then following in the wake of his allies - his friends.

"So it was, and one I would have undertaken, were it for my ancestors, or nay, for it is what She calls me to do," Seldan answers simply, moving himself through the cobblestoned streets, along with the others. "I fear that offering wine at all is cause enough for some to drink themselves senseless, and yet would I not have that be a reason not to showcase one's talents. Your wine is fine indeed, though - perhaps not all wine need be magical, to suit. Few can afford such."

He draws in a breath at the mention of family interactions that do not risk life and limb, and is silent for a good half of a city block before admitting, "I can only promise such an interaction, do we not encounter my honored father. I have sent word ahead to the manor that we come midafternoon, that they not feel themselves obliged to offer us a meal. The last time my honored father and I met, it came to blows." His words are carefully chosen, spoken with an even, almost meditative quietude. "My lady grandmother will brook no such behavior, and it is not in my mind to initiate any such altercation."

"Too right you shouldn't," Fallia pipes up from the direction of his hip. "Throwing punches in front of the matriarch of the family!" The nasally voice sounds mortally offended. "He's a churl if he does any such thing, and I'll tell him so to his face."

"It's your family, Sir Seldan. I'll follow your lead." Telamon offers the other man a smile. "And whatever happens, I'll back you up on it. You know my opinions on the matter -- probably not too different from Reunion's."

The group approaches the city gates. "Everyone got all their things?" Telamon quips. "Didn't leave anything behind? I mean, we'll be back soon, but we -are- doing some traveling here. Can't just bounce back because you forgot your lucky almiraj foot..."

The group arrives in Bryn Myridorn by means of a teleport from Seldan into the teleportation circle belonging to the Magicians' Guild. It's an utterly unremarkable day for the season in the afternoon, with sun shining down indicating Daeus's favor, perhaps, on the winter day.

The Padaryn estate remains an accessible location. The two guards nod to Seldan, having expected his arrival, and a servant ushers the group of Seldan, Verna, Telamon, and Zeke to a drawing room, where Daneira Padaryn is--somewhat joyously, compared to the last time that Seldan and Zeke met her--standing on her own two feet. Her piercing green eyes have a warm look to them as she looks at Seldan and Zeke in particular. "My dearest Seldan--and the Sunguard Zeke," she says, before gesturing around the room. "I am most happy to see the both of you again, and to meet the other two that you have brought with you today. Please take a seat anywhere you might like."

There's a number of chairs seated around a table that has been freshly set with a hot teapot and empty teacups. One of them is even sith-makar friendly.

By the time Seldan approaches the main doors, he is tautly reserved and silent, like an alabaster pillar, although he does manage a polite greeting for the guards and the servants. "Her light upon your path, Grandmother," he manages after a moment and a swallow, although he does not manage a smile. "It pleases me to see you well. Please meet Mourner Verna," he gestures to Verna, "and Archmage Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. All of those you see aided me in the endeavor which you asked of me."

He hesitates a moment, then adds, "My grandmother, and family matriarch, Daneira Padaryn. Master Rhain would have been her great-grandfather." He gestures that the others should seat themselves, and waiting for them to do so before seating himself as directed. Even when he does so, it is hesitantly, and with stiffly careful manners.

A small sound of approval leaves Zeke quite without him meaning for it to at the sight of the older woman on her feet and looking far better than the last time that he had laid eyes on her. "Sssa! Peassssce on your nessst." He hums another soft sound at the sight of the sith-makar friendly seat provided for him and he settles himself slowly into place. "You ssseem better. How are you feeling?"

GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (20)+29: 49
GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (5)+34+5: 44

Despite Telamon's easy going, almost free wheeling charm, his eyes don't stop moving, picking up tiny details here or there. So when Seldan introduces him, he bows politely, his starry gaze charming but not overwhelming. "Lady Daneira," he says with warmth. "An honor and a pleasure to meet you."

With Seldan probably taking up the full weight of this discussion, Telamon contents himself to actually step back a touch, figuratively speaking. He takes a seat once Seldan and Daneira have done so, resting his arms on his knees as he watches with the faintest of smiles.

Verna welcomes the clear day and light of the sun for whatever warmth it adds to the day as well as the more pleasant lighting to the unfamiliar (to her, at the least) setting. She follows Seldan's lead to the estate as a member of the entourage, making observations and mental notes of the same en route. It is her first venture to the region in any recent memory, and certainly the first to this particular estate.

Upon the meeting and introductions via Seldan to the elder Lady Padaryn, she dips in a brief curtsey out of politeness to their hostess. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Likewise simple and brief, yet courteous. So she hopes. Verna then moves towards the seating per Seldan's indication.

When Seldan introduces Daneira to Telamon and Verna, Daneira nods politely. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says, before sitting down and, perhaps as a demonstration of her good health, takes up the teapot and pours herself a cup. "As you can see, Sunguard, I am well, aside from the recent cold that prevented me from seeing visitors for some time--but I would ask all to pour their own cups as desired. The diet changes have worked, but are not miraculous."

Her green eyes settle onto Seldan. "I would like to inform you that I have sent Baram out on an errand. He should not be back before dinner is served. However... Parnell, Edie, and Synonie are within the house, and I would like to summon them for a discussion to learn what has happened in Ivyhold Manor. Folcas and Johan are currently practicing their fencing and will not be joining us."

A light smile touches Daneira's lips. "Do not be afraid to speak openly. I wish for those of our family to understand the truth, no matter how absurd it may sound."

GAME: Seldan casts Mage Hand. Caster Level: 16 DC: 20

Seldan had only just seated himself when Daneira speaks, and he listens intently. "Of course, Grandmother. I shall see to pouring." Instead of standing, though, he traces a sigil in the air before him, then gestures towards the steeping teapot. A ghostly hand appears to lift it, pouring each of several cups in succession. It then, in a perfect mimicry of his gestures, offers a cup of tea to each of the others, returning any refused to the table. He serves himself last; when at last it is done, he takes his own tea in his other, flesh hand, and makes an arcane gesture of dismissal that causes the ghostly hand to vanish immediately.

"As you will it, Grandmother, although the last name is not known to me. I would be pleased to meet with any you choose to introduce."

The words are formal and polite, still, although something in the set of his shoulders relaxes incrementally at the mention that Baram will not be present. He inclines his head in understanding.

Zeke politely declines the tea offered to him with a low murmur and a slight motion of his claw. He means no rudeness by it, but... old habits die hard. The sith keeps his words to himself for a moment, but he's also clearly pleased that the woman that is Seldan's kin is doing so well.

It's always interesting to Telamon to watch Seldan work. It's magic of a different time and flavor, but no less potent. He does manage to keep his expression in that same congenial smile when Daneira reveals that Baram is off for a bit -- but there's a twinkle in his eye, a suggestion that he would concede a point to the matriarch indeed.

At the mention of others, his eyebrows lift fractionally, though his look of interest doesn't waver. Instead, he simply takes his tea, and sips it lightly, regarding the old woman with respect.

Verna makes note of the named expectants and absentees, though correlating each to significance of presence is another matter. As aid to these, she glances briefly to others to note their reactions to this news. Thus it is that she starts to reach for the pot before she realizes that Seldan has already poured and retracts her hand. "My thanks."

"Yes, you must not have met Synonie," Daneira says, the smile spreading on her face when she observes Seldan using magic to lift the teapot. A light touches her shrewd green eyes as she watches the teapot pour, followed by the dispersal of teacups. "She's lovely. Eight years old, as adorable as a button."

Daneira takes a sip of her tea and nods, finding it acceptable, before she adds, "My request of you all is that you back up my dearest Seldan's observations regarding Ivyhold Manor, and to add any context or additional information that he may not provide. I anticipate that the story that you are to tell will be difficult for the layman to believe. But it is one of critical importance to the family, and it is much easier to take in the story Seldan has to tell when there are critical witnesses to his story."

There's a glint of light in her eyes as she adds, "If we are ready, I will send for them."

_She wants me to tell it?_ Seldan's eyes briefly go wide, but he inclines his head, and looks at the tea that had been set back down on the table. "Would hot water please you, kin?" he inquires politely of Zeke, as if to cover the moment, then sips his own tea carefully. "Parnell would be my father's elder brother," he explains to the others, still with that careful, almost stone-like formality, "and Edonia his wife. Synonie is not known to me, but at the age of eight summers, I would venture that she is their youngest child. Folcas and Johan are their elder children."

Telamon nods slowly, soaking up the information. "It's always good to pay attention to the tales of the past. It can prevent making mistakes in the future." He offers Seldan a cheerful grin, before becoming more serious. "However, eight summers is an early age to learn about some things. If you're sure, Lady Daneira, I will not object. Sometimes we have to grow up fast indeed."

The elegant half-sil's eyes slide around the drawing room for a moment, before returning to Seldan and nodding.

Zeke gives Seldan a mildly embarrassed look, but shakes his head silently. He has no knowledge of the names given, but assumes that they are more of Seldan's tribe. It seems that's true enough when Seldan gives explanation of their place in Seldan's family though the names are unfamiliar to Zeke. Such complicated things. Zeke keeps his peace.

"A child is a future adult, Archmage," Daneira replies to Telamon's words. "She is a bright girl. There are other reasons why I wish her to be present, but should Edie or Parnell find any subject unpalatable for their child, they will be responsible for parenting Sydonie appropriately."

She reaches for a bell in the pocket of her dress and lets it ring out. A servant steps into the room, receives instruction from Daneira to bring forth Seldan's relations, and returns with them in short order. A taller man enters, slight of build, suggesting his occupation has little to do with manual labor in any way or form, nor does he indulge himself in life's fine excesses--presumably Parnell. Edonia, or Edie, follows, light-brown and fine-featured, holding the hand of a smaller girl with a head full of curly hair and bright eyes that are curiously not far from Daneira's, inspecting the group before her.

"So this is the group you have contracted to investigate Ivyhold Manor?" Parnell asks of Daneira, before giving a small bow to the group. "I am Parnell Padaryn. This is my wife, Edonia, and our littlest, Synonie." His eyes inspect the group, but... He doesn't seem to register that Seldan is his kin.

Synonie, however, looks long at Seldan. "He looks like Auntie Carissa!" she says.

"Synonie, please," Edie says, before smiling bashfully. "Our daughter is a willful sort, but she is keenly interested in magic. Daneira wished for her to learn by sitting in on the talk today."

Seldan raises eyebrows at Zeke's refusal, but merely inclines his head at the sith-makar. He waits patiently and in silence, sipping at his tea, until the newcomers enter. He immediately sets aside his tea and rises, bowing politely to those who enter. It is the child whose blurt stops him in his tracks, though, and the very smallest of smiles tugs at the corners of his mouth. "You must be Synonie," he offers to the child, but it is to Parnell that he speaks first. The recognition in his eyes is clear, but he says nothing of it, instead relying again on that quiet, cautious, almost stone-like reserve. "Indeed. I am Seldan of the Silver Guard. This is Mourner Verna, Sungard Zeke, and Archmage Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. We have investigated Ivyhold Manor at -" He hesitates. "Lady Daneira's request, and were able to remove the threat within."

Is he planning not to tell his own uncle who he is?

Zeke turns a little as new people enter the room, and he almost rises but then decides not to. He's old enough that he's fairly certain no one will hold the lack of rising against him. His eyes twitch toward Seldan at the words that the man so carefully chooses, but he doesn't offer any commentary at the moment. Instead he politely inclines his head to the group. "Peasssce on your nessst."

Telamon seems content at Daneira's reply, but when the trio of family members enter, his starry eyes soften a bit at the sight of Synonie, and his smile is warm. His gaze moves to Parnell and Edonia, and he rises to greet them, offering a bow. His eyes flick to Seldan at the man's rather... obtuse introduction of himself, but for the moment he restrains himself.

At Edie's commentary on Synonie's interest, Telamon's eyes sparkle with good humor. "It's not easy, but it is rewarding to those with the patience to study it -- whether drawn from the traditional arts, or from inborn talent." As he returns to his seat, he replies, "We are, of course, at your disposal for any questions you might have regarding the events."

Verna has only just made connections of names to positions and now has faces to accompany. Socio-political dynamics within the Padaryn family are yet far from her familiarity, thus she only offers a polite nod and "Greetings" to the arriving trio. Not unlike Telamon, her focus shifts to the young one with an interest in magic, and she can't help but offer a light smile to Synonie. "Indeed, such is quite a valid curiosity and interest to hold, young lady."

GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (19)+24: 43
GAME: Seldan rolls diplomacy: (10)+22: 32

Synonie's eyes light up in glee as she's introduced to all of the people. "A Silver Guard!?" she exclaims, looking up at her mother. "Do you think he'll train me, Mother?"

Edie looks a tad bit mortified by Synonie's outburst again. "I am certain that the Silver Guard is quite busy with his work for a squire, Nonie," she says. "But if you promise to be good, I will let you sit next to him, okay?"

Synonie nods eagerly in that way that children do when they hear only the prize and not the wall that the adult puts up to temper expectations. "Okay!" she says, before she takes a seat next to Seldan, who has the _entirety_ of her attention.

Parnell and Edie take their seats. Daneira nods. "I'd like to start from the beginning of your expedition, please," she says to Seldan. "Proceed at your leisure."

Again, something in Seldan's expression melts a little from the alabaster pillar that was his demeanor as the little girl sits next to him, but he keeps his attention, first on Edie, then on Parnell. "When we arrived, the house was indeed quite reeking of magic, and the key had been enchanted to discourage your family from attempting to enter. We were able to learn that the last occupant of the manor was one Rhain Padaryn, who would have been Lady Daneira's great-grandfather. Mariana - her grandmother - was his only child, and was sent away young."

He picks up his tea, but rests the cup in his lap, more to give his hands something to do. "Before we sought to set foot in the manor, we spent some time learning what we could of it. Rhain Padaryn was a wizard of not inconsiderable skill, although he did - not always adhere to the teachings of the Holy Dreamer. He delved deeply and freely into some of the - less savory mysteries. He had borrowed an artifact known only as the Eye from the Magician's Guild, and to their knowledge, it is still missing."

"Armed with such knowledge, and knowing that we might be facing dark or unusual magic, we ventured into the house. Little did we find, indeed, for the house was - torn by time."

Every word that Seldan says is true, and Zeke is satisfied to allow the paladin to tell the story as he sees fit. He is here if there are to be any questions of him, and as a show of support to Seldan himself. 'Your' family. Zeke folds his claws in his lap.

"Before you think poorly of Rhain, he is not the first magician to fall prey to error, nor will he be the last." Telamon's voice is gentle. "And his error was not born of a lust for power or greed, but sadly out of grief. Any man can falter and stumble under such."

The sorcerer inclines his head. "In truth, one could write entire theses on the distortions we encountered. Time and space, wounded. Not something I would want to see again."

"Indeed," Verna concurs with Telamon, her prior smile fading from her countenance to a firm neutral. "Perhaps the wound of reality was representative of the wound the man, himself, held." The choice of exclusion, or at least lack of explicit inclusion in the family by Seldan's choice of words does not go unnoticed. Yet it is not her place to suggest otherwise.

Synonie is sitting on the very edge of her chair as her eyes are wide between Seldan's introduction and Telamon's addition on Rhain Padaryn's psyche. One can practically see the gears spinning in her head from the words she's hearing. Edie and Parnell are more measured in their expressions of surprise.

"I have never heard of Rhain Padaryn before," Parnell says, before looking to Daneira. "You never mentioned Mariana either, Mother."

"It was the wish of Mariana's uncle, a Sunblade of Daeus, that this unsavory part of the Padaryn family history would be buried," Daneira says over the rim of her teacup, quite smoothly. There's a slight curl of the lips as she adds, "You can understand why I enlisted Sir Seldan's help as a Silver Guard in this matter. Please, continue."

"Indeed, it is as Master Telamon says," Seldan chimes back in. Though he is still his sober, reserved, measured self when speaking to her parents, something about her seems to soften that alabaster pillar of nerves, just a little. "For he loved his wife most deeply, and wished to be with her. It was his hope that by pulling time and space into one location, he could do so. But - such was a lure, fed to him by an evil being of the Void within the artifact, and he found that by following the being's instructions to achieve his aim, his soul was trapped. Fragmented. We found his pleas to Eluna for aid."

He turns now to Synonie, his teacup still in hand. It appears to be mostly something for him to do with his hands, rather than a refreshment. "Synonie, magic can do many, many things, make many wonders real. But, there are things that it cannot do. Among them, is truly cheat death itself. To attempt to do so is the province of the gods alone. Many have attempted it, but to do so is a forbidden and dangerous art, one that succeeds only in imprisoning you, do you see? That is what happened to your ancestor. He attempted to cheat death, and in his grief was lured into imprisonment by a creature of the Dark, until time and space fragmented, and shattered his psyche with it. To release him, we had to break the spell that Rhain wove, and then destroy the being imprisoning his mind and soul."

Here it was tempting to say something more. To drive home the fact that Seldan had done all of this - faced a creature of the void - for them. For his family. For those that had allowed one man to drive him off. Zeke says none of it though, his green eyes laced with sorrow as he maintains his air of silence.

Telamon's expression is grave, despite his rather relaxed posture. "Sir Seldan speaks truly. I am a sorcerer, an archmage. I've witnessed many wonders. I've even wrought a few. But some things cannot be done -- to chase them is to court disaster."

His eyes move to Daneira. "Just so. More than one family has skeletons in their closet that they don't like to talk about. I know how that is, Lady Daneira." He lets out a breath, looking at his teacup in surprise: empty. "At the end, though, there was victory."

Verna nods solemnly. "Even as a Mourner, in service to The Harpist, I can but beseech a such a reprieve for others. It is not in our hands to grant, though it is oft in the hearst of many." She gives Telamon a brief sidelong glance at mention of familial closets, though she adds naught to the topic. Instead, another nod, this one with a hint of smile. "Yes, I believe all was set right, in the end."

Synonie's eyes are in rapt attention as Seldan tells her something very important about magic and this ancestor of hers. It's clear that, as much as she's spellbound by the story that Seldan has to tell, she's also taking the very important lesson to heart. "That's why it's important for us Silver Guards to fight bad magic wherever we find it," she says with an aggressive nod. "To prevent sad stories like Rhain's from happening again. Right?"

Edie flushes with Synonie's words, and Parnell says, "Synonie," in a voice that suggests to remember herself before she gets too out of hand, before he adds, "wishes to become a Silver Guard herself. I'm not opposed to it, but..."

"Baram should have no say in what she becomes," Daneira says smoothly, before sipping her tea.

Parnell looks a little flustered by Daneira's remark, but nods. "How were you... able to break the spell? And what was the being that imprisoned him?" These questions are with a touch of skepticism in addition to curiosity.

The admission raises both of Seldan's eyebrows, and leaves him blinking in silence for a moment. For a few heartbeats, he is silent, and then he whispers, "Even so? Is this Your will?" The words are almost entirely to himself, audible only to those closest, but when they are spoken, he looks up. "That is what She asks of those who pledge themselves to Her," he agrees to Synonie, but the ice-blue eyes he turns on Edie and Parnell are - frozen wide for a breath.

He collects himself, then, and nods gratefully to Lady Daneira. "It is not for us to choose the path of others. We can but guide, and pray that that guidance is taken to heart." The words are oh so careful.

"As to the matter of the spell, we needed - divine assistance. It was a spell of great power, and great complexity. Souls are the province of the gods, and the gods alone, and thus was Her aid needed. To understand the spell that was cast was one thing, and the diagram that held him is sufficiently dangerous that I deem it best, does it remain hidden for all time. To break it required Her weapon, and Her hand. Would it please you to see?" The corners of his lips tug into a half-frozen smile.

GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (13)+24: 37

There's something unhappy flickering across Zeke's green eyes for a moment and for the first time he speaks something more than greeting. His low easy voice slipping out into the spaces between words. "When a deity callsss, they call." He looks at the girl who is a mere hatchling to his eyes. "It isss not for a mortal to sssay otherwissse."

Telamon chuckles softly at Synonie's fierce declaration. "Indeed. But remember, one can follow Ni'essa Sky-Singer without being a Silverguard. There are many who hear Her voice, without taking on the dedication of a knight or priest." He offers the girl a smile. "It's all about doing the right thing."

"The creature was... something known to me, from my studies of the stars and the places beyond Ea. A monstrous minion of the Void Beyond All Things. And it was our devotion -- to light, to faith, to hope -- that broke it and cast it down."

Verna falls quiet anew, for the moment. She has little further to add concerning the create, and the mechanism of its defeat was already begun by Seldan. It is his task, his tale, for his family. Regardless of whether he has made the last portion plain.

Synonie looks positively fired up at the words that Seldan gives regarding Eluna's ask of her servants, but the girl tries not to immediately burst into words until Seldan asks his question. "Yes!" she says, before Edie's eyes fall onto her, and Synonie clears her throat and says, more quietly, "Yes, it would please me greatly to see it, Sir Seldan."

Parnell looks at Zeke and nods, just a little. "You are right, of course, Sunguard," he says, a sense of relief coming on the title. "I would like to see... my daughter pursue an occupation that fits her. Although I must inform the Archmage that Synonie has been talking entirely about being a Silver Guard in specific for about two years now."

Daneira interjects, "This sounds like a fearsome foe that you and your cohorts brought down, Sir Seldan. I can have a servant retrieve the weapon for you, if you would like. I think it rather important for Synonie to see it."

"As you will, Lady Daneira. I must warn you, though, that the weapon in question is intelligent, and is likely to speak." A ghost of a smile accompanies Seldan's acceptance. "It is an item of great power, blessed by Eluna Herself."

He looks up and shoots Zeke an oh-so-grateful look at the commentary. "It is as the Sunguard says," he agrees. "I have come to learn in my studies of - your family -" The wording is awkward. "That the strict adherence to the Draco Solis began with Rhain's brother, and before that, your ancestors followed many of the Light. There is no shame in service to the Light."

"Now," he turns to Synonie. "While we wait, I would ask of you, something that you said when first you came into the room. You said that I looked like your Auntie Carissa, is that right? Well, my mother's name was Carissa." Again, that tiniest of smiles.

Again Zeke lapses into silence, watching the odd interaction of individuals with traditions and ways so far different than his own. He can not understand it any more than a cat can understand the life and ways of a mouse. Yet here he is. Trying.

Telamon quips, "Getting it to speak isn't the problem. It talks as much as my wife Lana's familiar." He smiles at Parnell. "There's nothing wrong with being a Silverguard either. Indeed, while Sir Seldan and I think in different ways, we have a great deal of common ground. I'm sure she will make a marvelous Silverguard if she devotes herself to it." Mindful of how a child's interests can vary wildly.

Verna opens her mouth with the intent to clarify that the reverse may be the difficulty where the weapon is concerned. She realizes a touch late that such may have been Telamon's implication all along. This makes for a hasty alteration to "Given her eagerness and attentiveness, I expect she shall excel in whatever she puts her mind to." This is followed by a sip of tea.

Daneira quietly summons a servant and asks them to bring up the weapon. At the point of Seldan's little smile, Edie puts her hand up to her mouth in surprise, and Parnell seems to come to a similar conclusion. "No," Parnell says softly, before staring at Daneira. "Mother--this isn't... Baram's boy? I thought..."

"You make the mistake of assuming that Baram's offspring would favor their father in entirety," Daneira says. "Now do you understand why I wished for an expedition on the manor? Your daughter needed to see someone willing to do something that would bring honor to his family... Even if his family has not honored him in the past--"

Daneira's words are interrupted by a rather urgent knock on the door. The servant enters, holding Reunion, closing the door behind her and offering the weapon to Seldan before she turns to the matriarch. "Madame," she informs Daneira. "Master Baram has... returned early from his excursion. Apparently he is quite upset about the task you set upon him."

"Is he?" Daneira asks, before she looks at Seldan with those shrewd green eyes of hers, a light smirk touching her lips. "I think we ought to let him in--what do you think, my dearest Seldan?"

The weapon that the servant brings forth and hands to Seldan is an ornate one, wrought in an old Myrrish style popular several centuries ago. Its pommel is now a beautiful, rich red gem, and arcane and divine markings are intermingled on the scabbard. It is lovely to look at, but almost as soon as he touches it, it immediately pipes up in the querulous voice of an old man. "I thought you'd never let us meet our own family, boy. So incredibly rude."

A nasal, older female pipes up in a grandmotherly tone. "Kanian, your mouth is probably why," she scolds. "That said, it is finally nice to get a look at some of you in the - oh my. A little one. Aren't you adorable."

"And permitted to listen in with the grown-ups," the first voice sniffs disapprovingly. "What has this family come to-"

"Well, you're hardly a grown-up, and you're 278 years old," points out a younger, deeper female voice.

"Now, now, Tisa. Be nice." A deep, stately, rich male voice resplendent with authority chimes in. "We can't hardly introduce ourselves this way."

Seldan's eyes lower, and he exhales his soul through his nose, still watching Parnell and Edie. "I would pray you to forgive the obfuscation. Yes, your brother is my father. I am well aware of my status in this household, and would not have returned at all, were it not at the behest of my lady grandmother. I would have done the same for any in her position, for Eluna calls me to do so. That it was the Padaryn family but added to the need."

Then, Daneira speaks up, and he straightens up, squares his shoulders. He opens his mouth to refuse, but then looks down at Synonie, and back up at Daneira, with the air of one steeling themselves. "Very well, Grandmother. I am neither churl, nor craven to cower before the man."

Zeke rises to his feet then, at Seldan's words of acceptance. He will _not_ remain seated in the presence of the man who has assaulted Seldan in the past. His movements are slow but certain, and he does not wish the man to miss his own presence here. Though he doubts that the presence of a cleric of the god that the man claims to revere will give him sense.

Telamon doesn't say it aloud, but his lips move in something that is pretty clearly 'about time' as he gives Seldan a mildly exasperated look. Thankfully, Reunion is probably drawing all the attention. "Told you it was talkative," he comments with a grin.

But when the servant informs them that Seldan's father is on the premises, Tel's eyes narrow a bit. "I assume you'd like us to stay out of this one, Sir Seldan? It's not in my nature, but I did promise to follow your lead."

GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (13)+15: 28

Verna finally manages to make some inferences from the blatantly shocked expressions of Parnell and Edie. As for the ... timely announcement of Baram's return, she presumes perhaps the worst. Not the least cause of which are Seldan's own words and posture and Zeke's rise. She remains seated, though her cup is pushed arm's length distant and her attention turns to the door from whence the servant emerged with the announcement.

Synonie's eyes are wide and alight with joy and curiosity when she hears the sword talking, and seems _infinitely_ pleased when Tisa greets her. She curtsies before the blade. "It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Lady Tisa," she says, before looking up at Seldan, and...

She gets up from her seat and stands in front of Seldan. "Don't worry, Sir Seldan! As your squire, I won't anything bad happen to you!"

Edie pales, but there's not much time for her to respond before there's a knock at the door--followed by the door simply opening. The man that walks in is a long cry away from the man Seldan knew. Shorter than his older brother, Baram Padaryn is no longer a muscular and broad figure, as he is a more portly individual than before, perhaps on account of the cane and the way he's moving somewhat stiffly. His eyes are first on Daneira. "Mother, did you mean to send me the entire way across the city for--"

His eyes settle on Seldan. And his eyes narrow. "Boy. I thought I told you not to enter this house ever again."

"Don't speak to Sir Seldan like that!" Synonie growls. Edie looks like she might faint.

"It is well, Synonie," Seldan tells her gently, setting the blade aside on his own chair and turning to face the man. "Archmage, Sunguard, Mourner," he speaks swiftly. "I will not see violence done in this house. Grandmother deserves better."

With one smooth motion, he puts himself between Synonie and his father. "I am here at Grandmother's behest," he answers evenly , although his demeanor is swiftly shifting into the alabaster pillar that had almost melted away. "On the matter of Ivyhold Manor. I do not question her in matters of the family." _Do you?_ The unspoken challenge is clear.

Reunion, however, is not so restrained. From the chair now next to him, the nasal, grandmotherly voice pipes up. "Oh, good. The man I've been waiting five years to give a piece of my mind to. Daneira, your shrewdness is admirable, but it's time your son was put in his place. Sorry, little one. My name is actually Fallia, but we'll talk as soon as this is handled, all right?"

"Yes, I'm Tisa." The younger, deeper voice chimes in. "We'll be happy to talk to you, but stay back behind Seldan and listen closely, okay?"

GAME: Seldan rolls bluff: (7)+15: 22
GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (1)+29: 30 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (7)+15: 22
GAME: Zeke rolls Sense Motive: (14)+9: 23

Smoothly, Telamon comes to his feet. There's something vaguely ominous about the simple movement. So when Baram comes in, and Seldan adroitly repositions Synonie, the half-elf glides over to stand next to the girl. Offering her a cheerful, unconcerned smile, as if -everything is all right and going according to plan-.

Telamon's expression flickers a little at Baram's disposition, but he remains in his place for the moment, regarding Seldan's father with a blank look. Your move, sir.

Zeke remains standing for his part, taking Seldan's warning in stride. Even so he can not help but drift a few steps closer, his green eyes settled on the man who claims the title of Seldan's nest-father. His tail is low and the tip moves subtly. An indication of his emotions though none here are makari enough to know its meaning. A soft comforting rumble leaves him, but the sound is to draw attention to himself more than anything else. Though it is not something he is prone to... he dislikes the way that man is looking at Seldan even more than the idea of others looking at him.

Verna rises now, herself, simply standing from her chair. A respectful gesture in light of the arriving family member, perhaps. There is a brief pause for a lull and/or to consider her words before she offers only one to Baram, "Greetings."

Baram looks immensely displeased with Seldan's words and the fact that the others are backing up to support his wayward son. "I would have cleared out Ivyhold myself if I hadn't gotten injured," he says. "There was no need for this... _charade_. The healer has been saying I can walk again unassisted soon."

Synonie mutters, "What's a charade?" to Reunion, staying exactly where people have asked her to be, but her defiant green eyes are trained on Baram like she's contemplating picking up Reunion and beating the man with the blade herself. Even if the blade's about as tall as she is.

"Perhaps if you were following the diet that I was given by the Sunguard here, you might be already," Daneira says smoothly. "Now. I think you owe my dearest Seldan an apology, for everything that you've done. I know of what Seldan has accomplished in his time, and I sent him to Ivyhold Manor to prove that there is more than one way to bring honor to this family."

Parnell finally speaks, holding Edie in his arms to support her. "I'm inclined to believe Mother," he says. "Why would you send a man such as Seldan away? Why would you disown him?"

Baram snorts. "None of you would understand," he says, and he looks at Zeke with the rumble of noise coming from the sith-makar. "Sunguard. What are you doing here with this coward who could not stand with our Knight?" he asks. "All he's done is empty a house, no?"

"A charade means to pretend, honey," Fallia tells Synonie in that sweet, calm, grandmotherly voice. "He's not going to hurt anyone. Both Seldan and the mage can make sure nobody gets hurt, all right? Magic's a really good way to do that. It's not just used to hurt people. It can be used to keep people from getting hurt, to build things, to help people see or walk again. Look at the Sunguard."

Seldan, meanwhile, watches his father with utter impassivity. "I understand full well, Father. You desired a son to serve the Draco Solis, as you have, and naught more do you see, than that the gods had other plans that took not your desires into account." He crosses his arms across his chest, and does not move. Does not glance back. Not at Synonie, nor at Edie or Parnell, not even at Daneira. "Grandmother, I require no apology. It is not in my mind that Father will ever accept my service to the Dreamer, and it matters not my deeds, or my tales." He resembles nothing so much as an alabaster statue, still and impassive. "Rhain Padaryn is free of the spell that held him and the Void minion that trapped him in a space-time collapse within the manor. I have done as She calls me to do. No more reward do I require than that." Zeke is not often a creature of fury, but anger is an emotion that comes to all. And he sees here and now a moment that he can seize. A moment that he can create and use. "Baram." The name falls from his maw and with it he demands attention. "You call him a coward yessss?"

He moves forward, just a step. He feels light with purpose. "Then I call upon you to hear the wordsss of the Dragonfather Himssself. Come. Ssssit." He motions toward the chairs. It is not a question. "Thisss one will call upon the one that thisss one ssservesss and you will hear Hisss voisce for your-ssself. It isss time."

Denying the offer will only serve to mark Baram for the coward he is. Zeke has spoken.

His eyes narrow again, and the stars begin to swirl in Telamon's eyes at Baram's perhaps... hasty words. Indeed, the archmage -bristles- at the slurs directed at a man he considers a friend. He looks tempted, sorely tempted, to unleash some biting rejoinder. Or more.

Instead, he takes a deep breath, and simply says, "Is it the way of the Draco Solis, the Highest, Eli, to cast out one who his daughter has called to service? Does not the Watchful Huntress stand as her father's eye in the hours of the night?"

Verna knows Seldan is no coward. All who arrived with him know this, and even some of the Padaryns present appear to. She suspects this would not matter to Baram, which may be confirmed by Seldan's own words. Still, she voices that much all the same. "Seldan is no coward." Regardless of whether Baram believes her. Her eyes flick to Zeke, as he brings forth an option that Seldan's father perhaps cannot, and certainly should not, ignore.

Baram sucks in a breath as Zeke challenges him so boldly, not to speak of Seldan's words. "I won't entertain this," he says simply. "None of this. I'll be finding alternative accommodations for the evening, then." He spins about on his heel and storms out of the room, taking his glower with him.

Edie lets out a breath and sighs in relief as he leaves. Parnell murmurs something soothing in her ear, to which she nods, before Parnell looks at Seldan. "Seldan... I know you serve a higher purpose, and you aren't really looking for our approval, but I would like you to know that I appreciate that which you've done for my Mother and... for our family. You may be disowned in Baram's eyes, but as far as I'm concerned? That which you've accomplished means... More than I can properly express."

He indicates Synonie with a nod of his head. "I'd trouble you to think about taking her on as an apprentice when she's of age... But I think she's a bit young as it is now."

Synonie frowns, peering at Seldan. "Can you at least write me letters, Sir Seldan?" she asks. "I really, really would appreciate it. And your sword is nice. Sorry your father is a big meanie though."

"Synonie," Edie says, but even that's half-hearted. She's not wrong.

Seldan watches him go, as still as stone, but when he has taken himself out, the statue crumbles, and his shoulders slump, his gaze downcast. "Praise be to Her that none were harmed," he murmurs, to himself, but there is a very real hurt there. He remains still for several long moments, and there's a space after Parnell speaks, in which he is silent. Only then does he look up, and at Parnell for the first time. "It is in my mind that the truth of some of my deeds should be set to ink and parchment, that the records may exist for they who come after me," he admits quietly. "I would aid all of you as best I may. I am grateful for your words, and for your understanding, but it is in my mind that the family may be best served by my absence, to the extent possible."

He lets out a long breath, and looks down at Synonie, then at Parnell. "She is not too young to be taught the basics of the sword, and it seems that she has made a start on the teachings of the Dreamer." The very tiny smile breaks through the stormcloud of hurt that he wears. "I shall write letters, at the least, and letters to me may be sent to the Temple in Alexandria. One thing only would I ask of you - have her tested for magical aptitude, and soon. It is easier on you and on her, does she know ere she sets a pell on fire in frustration."

Now, he looks down at Synonie. "I will tell you this, of being a Silver Guard. Silver Guards work very, very hard. They work a lot. If you want to be one, you had best be ready to work. Can you do that?"

Zeke watches the man leave and nods. A coward indeed. To flee the offer of words from a god he claimed to serve. Zeke's tail-tip twitches. The murmur of conversation around him fades into the background and dissatisfaction zings through the sith-makar. Nothing has changed. For all that Seldan has done... His kin remain apart from him. It's a bitter thing to Zeke. He lets out a breath and looks toward the matriarch of the family.

At times, the distance between his world and that of Seldan's people seems insurmountable.

Daneira sighs gently. "Baram... is a prideful man," she says, "who has mired himself in false pride when his station as a Sunblade is, as far as I can see, finished. For him to turn his back on offered words with his own god..."

It's clear there's a stormcloud in her eyes. "He is the shameful one," she concludes.

Synonie, in the meantime, looks at Seldan with hopeful eyes as Seldan says that she's ready to be taught the sword. "Really?" she says. "I'll work really, _really_ hard. I promise I will. And maybe one day I'll be great as you are, Sir Seldan!"

She looks at him like the knight in brilliant armor that she perceives him to be. In the meantime, Parnell looks... discontent, but he nods. "It is my wish that you were not so distant, Seldan, but... I suppose so long as Baram is around, or that he continues to behave the way that he will, it must be that way."

"Seldan has a purpose beyond us," Daneira says at last, quietly. "We are but mortal people. And while I, too, wish for Seldan to rejoin us..."

She turns to Seldan. "It is your choice, and I cannot fault you for choosing such when your father has so clearly ever treated you in ill choice. You deserve better than him. Go: in her Light."

Seldan is, again, silent for a moment, but when he raises his eyes, it is to Zeke. "Thank you, kin. That he does not take your offer - shameful indeed. And yet, do I remain, someone will be hurt. That would I never have. I shall write, as I may. Will that please you, Synonie?" He looks down at her, and smiles, finally, the boyish thing that he had held in reserve.

He looks back at his aunt and uncle, and his grandmother. "It is as you say. For false pride forces him from the Draco Solis' path." A long, heavy sigh, and a look of deep regret colors his features as he looks around. "No. It must be so. I cannot trust father not to injure someone in his rage."

"It'd make me happier than anything," Synonie says, before she opens her arms wide for a hug. "Thank you, Sir Seldan!"

It's a bittersweet thing. For all that Seldan has done, there is a man who seems an insurmountable critic. But... There remains the next generation. Synonie's eyes are sparkling and happy even as Seldan leaves.

Maybe there will be something new that Baram cannot change: a tradition of Silver Guards from the Padaryn family, sworn to root out evil magic where they find it.

-End