Wraith for It

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Revision as of 04:58, 31 May 2022 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "The light rain outside the temple of Daeus never translates inside. Instead, a deep blue sky glittering with stars and gentle breezes rule the day amid the columns and slabs of this magnificent edifice. This late in the evening, though, the grounds are relatively quiet, save for the Sunblades and the few Sunguards who stay up, and there are not many of those. And one Redeemer. He's supposed to be asleep. He's lost count of the number of people who have told him that...")
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The light rain outside the temple of Daeus never translates inside. Instead, a deep blue sky glittering with stars and gentle breezes rule the day amid the columns and slabs of this magnificent edifice. This late in the evening, though, the grounds are relatively quiet, save for the Sunblades and the few Sunguards who stay up, and there are not many of those.

And one Redeemer.

He's supposed to be asleep. He's lost count of the number of people who have told him that today. He's supposed to rest. But, there is such a thing as being too tired to sleep, and certainly such a thing as being too out of sorts to sleep. Instead of the artificial eye and outfit he normally wears, he's down to a loose shirt and trousers, an eyepatch over the ruined socket on the right side of his face. Because he's supposed to be asleep.

Instead, he's leaning against one of the columns, slumped against its base, hands in his lap and knees up, his feet against the slab, his remaining eye resting on the holy altar to Daeus from a respectful distance.

The night can be a frightening place, but there are those who seek to make it safer. The soft whisper of silk, the slow steady tread of well-worn, well-made boots. Telamon glides into the temple, dressed in a ruffled white silk shirt over black calfskin trousers, a cloak wrapped around him with the hood up to defeat the drizzling rain. Curiously, a few glittering sparks follow him inside, like lingering stars that orbit his head.

He reaches up to draw back his hood, looking around, before his dark eyes land on the slumped form of Dolan. His head tilts slightly, but he doesn't call out... instead walking over to stand next to the Redeemer, studying him with a raised eyebrow. "Dolan," he says politely. "You look like a man in need of assistance."

From within the temple rather than without it, comes a blue-scaled sith-makar in the clerical vestments of a follower of Daeus. He moves at a slow, easy pace, as if looking for something - or perhaps _someone_. This sith might have gone unnoticed even with his searching attitude, if not for the crystal limbs that he bears on his left side. Both his arm and his leg are fashioned of the beautiful clear material, and they move with him as though they are a part of him. The sith stops, spying Telamon approaching Dolan, and upon noticing this notices Dolan himself and straightens and heads toward the pair.

Dolan looks up from his pensive reverie, turning his head fully towards Telamon and sitting up straighter. "Just thinking. Getting a little tired of getting my ass kicked lately by nasty shit," he admits. "Thinking I need to spend a little more time with the blade. What brings you in here?" He looks positively exhausted, and although he sat up a little straighter, he's still leaning against the column.

Telamon nods slowly. "I've had that problem sometimes. Had to return to my studies -- more time on the books and meditation, less time writing poetry." He looks wry. "Don't tell Lana that, though, she's insistent that I keep a hand in on the wedding preparations."

"But no, I'm afraid it's nothing as pleasant as that. Another statue has come to light. The good news, such as it is, is that it is in the hands of Sir Seldan." His lips quirk up. "Which is pretty much as safe as it can get. But..." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "When he took it into possession, it was at first a dark, twisted thing -- but in his hands it -changed-. To a white statuette of a lady. I... am not sure what this portends."

GAME: Dolan rolls intelligence: (18)+1: 19

Zeke arrives slowly, integrating himself into view at a very steady pace, and at Telamon's side. "Peassce on your nessstsss." He murmurs in deference to the fact that they are not the only ones in this area. He looks at Telamon seriously for a moment, having overheard his comment. "Are you bothering thissss onessss patient?"

He looks at Dolan and bows his head politely. "Thisss one isss to care for you while you are here at the Temple. Thisss one would like to take you to a room where you can resssst." His keen green eyes look at Dolan's posture. The way he's leaning against the column. "Can you walk?"

It takes Dolan a minute to place the name. "Sir Seldan - Sir Seldan. Shit, I heard he vanished. He got ..." Zeke wanders up, and he sighs heavily, as if exhaling his soul through his nose. "He's fine, Sunguard. This is important." His one-eyed gaze lingers on the crystal arm and leg, but it doesn't seem to bother him, and the gaze goes back to both faces after a moment. "Yeah. I'm just tired. He can come along."

Using the column for assistance, the Redeemer gets wearily to his feet, and leans against it, this time standing. "So ... let me get this straight. He had the statue, and it turned into the lady. He wasn't bleeding, was he? You better tell me the whole story."

Telamon frowns. "I only arrived after the festivities had ended... you may have heard about the explosion in the market district. It seems Aya and Sir Seldan, as well as Lady Serene -- whom I'm not acquainted with but from what I've heard is cut from Sir Seldan's mold -- caught the demon that had stalked Lana and myself. Again."

The half-elf looks sour. "This... creature seems entangled with the plague of lycanthropy, and it may be that the two are not separate problems. She -- it -- triggered another outbreak there, which only ended when she was unceremoniously returned to the hells."

He runs his hand through his hair. "This was all witnessed by Cor'lana. She told me about what had happened -- during the fight, the demon was bearing another of those horrid statues, and was relieved of it. It appears that yes, Sir Seldan did bleed on it to bind it to him, entirely by mistake."

Zeke watches Dolan carefully, but doesn't say anything about the man's choice to walk on his own two feet. His primary concern at the moment is Dolan's care, but he can not help but overhear the conversation at least a little. He stays close to Dolan, on his seeing side so that if the man needs any aid he can give it. He also moves at a very sedate pace so that Dolan does not try to hurry himself along. "Thisss one was there." He provides without much explanation, remembering Telamon as the man explains his presence, and himself remembering the statue in question. He had not seen it change, but he had seen it in the aftermath.

"Got it." Dolan actually relaxes, and starts to follow Zeke, gesturing with a nod that Telamon should follow. "It's fine, then. Sir Seldan is - uh. He comes around here now and then even though he doesn't follow the Sun Lord. I've got no idea why. But as long as he's of the Light, it's all right. Those statues are the anchors that bind the Nightmare in the Abyss, and the more good people that have one attuned to them, the stronger that bond becomes. If the wolves get ahold of them all, they'll release him, and I'll bet my last copper that's what they're trying to do."

He drags his toe on the stone paving and stumbles, but rights himself after a minute. "It'll bring you closer to the Dream Realm. Not nightmares, but I had the damndest dream the night after I attuned the other one."

Telamon raises a hand and nods to Zeke. "I remember seeing you. Vaguely. I was... a little distracted. I was worried about Lana." His smile is bashful. "I can't help it."

His attention slides back to Dolan. "That was what I understood. What surprised me was the -statue- changing. I don't recall any of them doing that." He rubs his chin. "The Dreamlands are... an interesting place. But something I remember reading once -- you have to dream of things to make them real. I wonder if that applies here? The gods wanted to bind the Nightmare, so they crafted chains made of something 'real' and yet not 'real' -- somewhere in between."

Zeke nods to Telamon, but frowns in the sith-makar way at Dolan's stumble. "Thisss one can aid you. In making it to the room." He says and then further clarifies, his voice low as if to provide Dolan some privacy from the fact that he has company walking with him. He understands the man's desire to not appear injured in front of his friend, but the fact still makes Zeke wish to sigh. "Sssseldna isss very much a ssservant of the light. You may find him here often perhapsss becaussse of thisss one. We are kin." The oddity of a sith and human being kin he does not try to explain.

Dolan takes a minute to steady himself, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Just tired," he tells Zeke. The revelation, though, makes him stop and stare in confusion at the Sunguard. "What - how - oh, it's none of my damned business. I'm sure there's a hell of a story there." One that he'd very much like to ask about and doesn't quite have the nerve.

Instead, he frowns at the conversation at hand, trying to focus and eventually reaching for Zeke's arm to steady himself, without thinking. "They're definitely tied to the Dream Realm, but they can drain rage out of someone changing, too, if you try to use it that way. You can only destroy them in the Dream Realm, but Mourner Verna said that the more you attune, the closer you get to the Dream Realm. It's probably better to have as many different people as possible with one each." He's rambling a little, a thing that Telamon will know from experience that he does when not fully focused. "But yeah, the statue changes when you attune it. Mine looks like a man."

Telamon frowns, mulling this over. "I wonder... no. It's not right to try and saddle this on someone else, even if he'd make a good guardian. We need to be the hands of the gods in this." Dolan's not the only one prone to thinking aloud or rambling. Bringing his focus forward once more, he looks at Dolan. "How many -are- there? And is there some way we could permanently secure them? We're all mortal, and while I'm in no hurry to stumble off to the Grey Halls, safeguarding them this way could be a generational project."

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And there I go, looking for the easy solution again even when I know there isn't one."

Zeke's eyes flicker to Telamon, curious, but not enough to really break into the conversation. He feels it's not really his place. Instead he acts as a sith crutch for Dolan. Helping the man support himself as they make their way to the room. Thankfully it isn't far. A few more steps in fact and they will reach their destination. "Thisss one will offer a bit of advissce." Zeke offers, again quietly. "Look for every way there isss to achieve your goalssss. The easssy way. The hard way. There isss anssswersss where you do not think to search them."

"Don't know," Dolan answers Telamon with a sigh, using the sith-makar mostly for balance and leaning only a little. "If I had to guess, I'd say there are twenty of them, or were. How many they've already got, who knows?" He shrugs wearily. "What were you thinking? I've been worrying more about how to find the girl." The advice, though, catches him by surprise. "It makes sense. Pursue all your paths."

"We've been pursuing leads here in the real world. Maybe we need to chase a few on the other side of the coin. Try to track them through the Dreamlands." Telamon mulls it over. "It might be an angle the opposition doesn't expect. Though trawling through dreams can be somewhat harrowing and strange."

He suddenly grins at Zeke and Dolan. "When Lana and I were doing our dream-walks, at one point we found ourselves in a vast cavern, piled with the wealth of a dozen nations. More gold and silver than a king's dynasty might see." He chuckles. "Even dragons will dream, and they can be -big- dreamers. In any case, we've met a couple of... guardians, on that side of the dreamlands. I might try to contact them, see if they can offer any input."

Zeke nods in approval with the fact that it seems that his advice is well met. And the pair are thinking thoughts along the vein of their important mission once again. He shifts his tail back in forth and hums low in his throat. They've reached the room. "Here we are." He offers gently, opening the door with his free hand and allowing light to enter the darkened chamber that Dolan is supposed to be sleeping in. "Thisss one will note that Dolan isss sssupposed to be sssleeping, but thisss one needsss to perform an exam to attend to hisss condition. You may sspeak during if he iss comfortable with thisss."

Another long, slow sigh from Dolan. "Sorry, Telamon. I was on one of these wight sweeps and we got outnumbered because dumbass oruchs didn't know when to withdraw. It happened pretty fast. You can stay if you want. I don't know where Andie is." He makes his way into the room and towards the bed, all trace of smile gone, and there's something almost haunted there. "Yeah that's not a bad idea, about going to the Dream Realm. Only problem is, I think the damn things can be destroyed for real in the Dream Realm, but they can't be here. They just return to where they were."

So saying, he sits down on the edge of the bed, not seeming especially worried about who is or is not on his blind side, this time.

Telamon shrugs lightly. "Oruchs are not known for their shy and retiring natures, and the children of Adom are especially loathe to back off in the face of the walking dead. The word for 'undead' in oruch translates to 'walking wrongness'." He rubs his chin. "Which is a remarkably apt turn of phrase."

"I wasn't thinking of bringing one into the Dreamlands, though, but rather using the Dreamlands as a starting point to track the statues, since there's clearly a link. We locate them there, and then chase them down in the waking world." He half-smiles. "It's not a perfect solution, but it might send us in the right direction."

He looks sympathetically at Dolan. "Your caretaker is right, though. You do need rest, especially if you've been tangling with wights."

Zeke sets about silently examining his patient once the man is sitting down. He is careful to stay on the man's good side as much as is possible, and even when he is not, he is enough in front of Dolan to be seen from his good eye. "Yessss. Thisss one hasss sseen sssuch injuriesss before. You are..." He hissesss lightly and examines Dolan with the keen eye of a healer, lifting his chin and peering into his eyes with his own green ones. "You are very lucky to ssstill be thisss ssside of the Gray Hallsss."

"Yeah. I know." Dolan's answer is flat, toneless, and his gaze sees something that isn't there. He sits a moment, as if he's barely heard what Telamon said - and without warning, rips the eyepatch from his face and dashes it to the other side of the room ."DAMN IT!" he shouts suddenly, bolting to his feet.

Without the eyepatch, it's not pretty, a bronze and steel socket replacing the flesh and blood one. It is obvious that his prosthetic eye mounts in there, although the work is fine enough, with many tiny gears, that how is not wholly clear on cursory examination. The scarred furrows and melted flesh are hardened into a mass that is quite nasty to look at, but he seems to forgotten himself in whatever is troubling him.

Telamon jumps suddenly, recoiling and looking around on reflex. Old habits die hard, after all. "What? What is it?" He shoots a look at Zeke worriedly, brows furrowed, as if hoping that worthy will have an explanation. The damage to Dolan's face is a bit startling, but Tel refuses to flinch away from -that-. Friends don't try to avert their eyes from each other's scars.

Zeke startles back at the sudden noise. He is after all very close to the source of it at the time that it occurs. He rocks back on his heels, and steps back one step. Not out of fear, but because he wants to offer Dolan some space. The man's scars are no surprise to him, nor are they something he flinches away from. He himself was born without an arm and a leg. Even putting that aside. He has been a healer longer than both the men standing beside him have been alive more than likely. "Peasssce." He offers to the man. "What isss it?"

"I'm fucking tired of being HELPLESS!" Dolan's still shouting, almost as if he hadn't heard the other two. Whatever it is, he's lost in fury and frustration, and the earlier topic of conversation is gone as if it had never existed. "I'm tired of being a useless burden! Of not having any goddamn clue what is going on and being talked down to like I'm a goddamn KID!"

Telamon does something foolish. This happens a lot. He crosses over to Dolan, and clamps his hand on the man's shoulder. "Dolan! Snap out of it!" He tries to shake the man, though considering Tel's relatively slim frame and shorter stature, it's questionable if this even works. "You were -never- a burden," he says quietly. "When I needed help in my darkest hour, you were there. Don't sell yourself so cheaply, my friend."

When Telamon steps forward and clasps his friend on the shoulder, Zeke takes another step back. Two people take up more room than one. Furthermore, with Dolan as upset as he is... He's seen patients react badly to being touched in such instances and he has no desire to provoke such a response. Nor is it his place to tell Dolan's story to his friend. A story that Zeke can read in the lines of weariness in the man's body and spirit by virtue of his learning as a healer, but which Dolan may not wish to share. Much less realize that a total stranger might understand about him. So he keeps his mouth neatly shut.

Normally, it wouldn't work. The shoulder under Telamon's hand is strong and bunched with the muscle of a swordsman. But Dolan is a man weary body and soul, and it moves beneath Telamon's hand, for all its tension. "About all I fucking did was be a goddamn target." He doesn't look at Telamon, just stares at the floor on the other side, face turned away from the half-sil.

Zeke steps forward then. "Thisss one thinksss that the need for ressst mussst take presscidence here." Zeke looks firmly at Telamon. "We sssay harsssh thingsss and feel harsssh feelingsss when we are tired, that have no real plasce in the waking world." He motions toward the door. "If you would pleassse. Thisss one will sssee him to bed, and to ressst." There is tea.

Telamon nods in agreement with Zeke. "I won't argue, worthy one." He gives Dolan a gentle look. "Rest. We'll talk later. But I think you need to take a little trip with me at some point. It might give you some perspective -- and a little peace." He releases Dolan's shoulder, and bows politely to Zeke. "Peace upon your nest, and clear skies," he says in closing, before slipping out.

Flailing with entirely too many things on his mind, and lacking the mental energy to process any of it in a productive fashion, Dolan simply continues to stare at the wall , and finally leans arm against it and head on his arm, shaking. Words aren't happening.

With Telamon leaving the pair of them alone, Zeke pads around quietly behind Dolan, readying the tea brought to this room to help Dolan sleep. "Come." He offers at one point, after allowing the silence to steady Dolan. To let him have a long moment of peace. "There isss tea. You ssshould drink ssssome."

Woodenly, Dolan straightens, lets his arm drop, and turns to follow. He doesn't actually speak, and it is clear that he is just going through the motions. Zeke has seen this before - someone weary body, mind, and soul to the point where they are operating by pure rote. Conscious decision-making is past him at this point, a thing to be expected to some degree after the level of magic required to restore him from the near-death state he'd been brought in in. He asks no questions, merely sits down on the edge of the bed, staring sightlessly at the floor. At nothing.

Out of habit, Zeke tests the heat of the cup before gently putting it into Dolan's hands. He pulls a stool out and sits beside the man, allowing the silence to grow. Sometimes, silence is good. Something that is needed, but this silence feels edged to Zeke and he knows that Dolan must be feeling strain. From what he said before the silence, and from _what_ he said. "Thisss one knowssss... That you have fassced death many timesss. That it hasss left a mark on you. That you have fasced perhapsss more than your fair sshare of thingsss of rescent. Thisss one hopesss however, that they do not over-burden you."

Silence reigns for some moments, and Dolan just sits there, holding the cup in his hands. It takes him a minute to even have the brainpower to actively control the mug. "Don't know," he answers finally. "I'm not going to run again. Even if it kills me. I can't. Not for her sake." The words speak of something recited hundreds, thousands of times, like a mantra.

Zeke tilts his head. "Running isss worssse than death?" He mulls this over, his tail flick-flicking. Just the tip. "Thisss one isss... curioussss. Becaussss... There isss no ssshame in running. No sshame in sssurvival. It isss inssstinct. Deep inssside the voice of our forebearersss tellsss usss that danger isss there. And ssso sssome-timesss we run."

"I told her I wouldn't run again. Not even to protect her. And I won't. I failed to protect her." Dolan is rambling, but automatically without thinking takes a long sip of the tea, the flavor barely registering. "I'll do what it takes. We have to be the hands of the gods here, Sunguard. The Church of Eluna can't help, hells' unholy asshole, half their Silver Guards are either dead or turned, and who knows which ones are safe? Can't trust nobody. I don't know this Seldan fellow except by reputation, I don't even know what church he is. Can only hope that statue's safe with him." Siiip.

Zeke makes an odd noise in the back of his throat that might be a laugh. "Sssedlan isss a Sssilverguard. But one that hasss been long away from the scity. He isss not a lycanthrope." Zeke considers this. Then nods in reaffirmation. "It isss, ass you ssay, important to help how we may, but one needssss care for oness-ssself in order to care for another."

"Wish he'd stick around the city and clean up the damned church, then," Dolan mutters, his words slurring a little around the edges with exhaustion. "Usually I do, or Andie does. She'll give me shit, though."

Zeke's tail shifts back and forth calmly. He reaches out and gently encourages Dolan to finish the cup of tea. "We will do what we can. But our handsss are not the only onesss needed, and we have dutiesss of our own." He pats Dolan's hand with one claw and takes the cup with him when he pulls away. "Thisss one will not allow thisss Andie to... give you the ssshit. You have done your bessst. You desserve praissse. Would you like to lay down now?”

"Do I get a choice?" There's a hint of Dolan's usual humor in the question as the cup is taken from his hand. "Good luck with that, she'll show up like a fucking whirlwind. No idea where in all the green garden hells she is. Hope she's all right."

With that, he sighs and swings his feet into the bed, laying back.

-End