Mages of Daeus

Shining Chalice Observatory, evening

It's later in the evening at the observatory. Someone - an individual listed as Aniutiom on the delivery, had called for several bottles of expensive champagne to be delivered to the Shining Chalice, and has yet to show up for them. Some members here and there of various other organizations have been asked to pick up the slack and carry boxes containing the champagne as well as a few other items that are... apparently incoming that are also being delivered.

It's someone's problem that's for sure, but so far it's not Aniutiom's.

Needless to say, this has not pleased Telamon. While expensive champagne is of course something to enjoy, he's a bit bemused that it was delivered here, of all places. The name on the invoice, however, -really- curled his expression into a sour note. "Idoren Aniutiom. Just who I want darkening the door of the Observatory." He briefly contemplates moving the material elsewhere 'for safe keeping' -- and with Telamon, that could be a LOT of places.

He sighs, raking a hand back through his hair as he watches the couriers bring boxes in. "Master Aniutiom and I are going to have a little -talk- when he gets here. This isn't a warehouse," he mutters out loud.

Carver was pulled for an easy job, and for once, it seems an easy job. She does not look too deeply into the matter, nor does she have the local or arcane knowledge to understand how odd the request might be. To her, the Chalice is well-known enough to be a recognizable name and not have more than the most basic knowledge of its purpose. Who is she to question the delivery of expensive libations? She liked beer more anyway.

She sets down another of the crate, treating it with care, reaching up to stretch her arms waaaaaay up high. She can feel the stitch in her back already. Maybe she was carrying it with slightly too much care.

That's *precisely* the moment that one Skyler Skywalker, Ex-Skypirate and current candidate for the Society of Dagger Dames and Gentleman Adventurers pops seemingly out of nowhere, carrying a series of boxes stacked and strapped to his back like a certain trash-collector in a movie with David Bowie in tights.

If you know, you know.

"Hi, Tal!" The swashbuckler greets with a broad grin that falters slightly when a box threatens to spill over, "I have a case of champagne, some greenish cookies from a rather... ahem... mellow druid halfling, and the half-dozen Owlbear meat pies that were ordered!" He beams, and adds, "Hullo, Carver! You working this job too? I heard someone crying in the marketplace about a crate of silk restraints that got wet."

Eztli had no clue how she got roped into helping carrying crates. Likely just to help Carver out. The small makari had two large crates balanced in her arms that she was carrying up to the building. Or at least she had been, but circumstances led to her pausing to look at Carver. "Seems like a lot of alcohol for an observatory, usually people here want to focus more clearly on objects, not make them more blurry."

It is at this point, that one Master Aniutiom himself enters. His scruffy black hair tucked under his huge blue hat marked with the symbol of Daeus on it. His similarly trademark blue robes. Even a long red scarf as a counterpoint as he strides into the observatory as though he owns it. "Are we going to have a talk Archmage Atlon?" He arches a dark eyebrow at the other mage.

Behind him is another much younger man in robes more of a Veyshanti type rather than the sort that a mage might wear. Clean, comfortable-looking, and uncircumspect. The young man keeps his dark eyes down as he carries a book of some kind in his hands as well as a quill. His pale complexion seems out-of-place with his attire.

Telamon catches sight of some familiar faces, and raises a hand to them in greeting, trying to shift his expression to something a bit less... irritable. "Good evening, Carver, Skyler, Eztli. I'm afraid I'm not sure what it's about myself, although I can venture some guesses." He smirks at Eztli's little joke. "Indeed. That's usually how it works."

Aniutiom's entrance doesn't make Telamon any happier -- he's trying to remain polite, but it's hard even for him. Telamon's eyes flick past Aniutiom to his companion, then back again. "That depends," he says evenly. "For starters, Master Turow thought you were coming here for study. If you wanted to rent a festhall for an evening -- or more -- I could've recommended a few to you." His voice never changes tone, but he regards Aniutiom with a disapproving stare (one he copied from his mother). "What's the occasion?"

"That's what I thought as well, yet, here we's are, carryin' crates of fancy wines and cakes." Carver says with a laugh, "Leas' it's all of it now, so we can prep to head home." The familiar faces are taken in with a nod before trouble sweeps in with their fine perfumed robes. She helps Eztli place the last of the boxes down. "Guess wizard-types aren't as much a rock-solid brotherhood theys sometime wish it was."

"I figured it was an orgy or something." Skyler says cheerfully, and squints at the young man in the Veyshanti robes, his pale skin, and youth compared to the other mage. "Or maybe just a romantic marathon?"

He leans in to Aniutiom, one hand going behind his shoulder to keep herb-laced cookies from falling onto the ground from where they're perched in their little basket. "Good on you, sir. It's a rare archmage that realizes all the magic in the world is meaningless without someone to polish your magic wand." He gives two thumbs up, before reaching back to catch a cookie that does, indeed, tumble out, "I think it's sweet." That's said louder for the entire group, even as he ducks down to set down his boxes and baskets, "I mean, if I'm reading it wrong and it *is* a group activity, I apologize for jumping to conclusions, but you do make a cute couple."

"I understand bringing food out here at least, guess there are worse places to have a party though, all things considered." Eztli chuckled back. "Nah, Telamon doesn't seem too pleased, so I take it that this is, well, there's more to this than expected."

"Did we make a mistake bringing this stuff over here? I can load it back up, if need be.

The mage blinks at Skyler and colors, distracted effectively from answering Telamon as he'd been about to. "Excuse me sir. This is an event for the Mages of Daeus. We're celebrating a years-long expedition into unknown territory being finally successful." He sniffs and steps pointedly away from Skyler, looking less than pleased, but turns his attention to Telamon. "Master Turow is not a member, but was kind enough to allow us the use of this beautiful space to view the sun and stars as we wish during our celebration. These things are merely a token of our celebration There is no mistake."

Behind Aniutiom, the young man is staring intently at Skyler as if trying to get his attention without being noticed.

GAME: Skyler rolls Sense Motive: (2)+10: 12

GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (10)+29: 39

GAME: Carver rolls sense motive: (4)+3: 7

When Aniutiom turns to rebuke Skyler, Telamon barely keeps from laughing out loud at the swashbuckler's sally. He manages to get his expression back in order by the time the other mage turns back to him, thankfully without having to chew on his lower lip. "Truly? I look forward to seeing the account once it's been published. It's a wondrous thing to increase the sum total of knowledge."

"That being said, though..." Telamon reaches down to pull out one of the bottles of champagne, and raises an eyebrow. "This is quite a token. I know this vintage, and it compares quite favorably to teymdara -- even elven connoisseurs respect it. You must have discovered something remarkable." His eyes flick ever so briefly past Aniutiom to his younger companion, and back again.

Despite what people assume, Skyler is a pretty perceptive person with a certain wisdom reminiscent of the wise fool used in some schools of divination to symbolize a wisdom of naivity, of throwing caution to the wind and ignoring conventional wisdom. Everyone in the room has seen it at one point or another, the redhead's almost shocking perceptiveness and ability to read people. Unfortunately, when the young man stares at him in an attempt to get his attention without being noticed, Skyler is too caught up in the moment to realize what's going on. Pale grey-green eyes are bright and friendly, but the read on the companion just slides off the man's smooth brain.

"That's not a no." Skyler mutters under his breath even as his brow furrows at the stare, glancing behind him as if seeing what the young man is staring at. He then raises his eyebrows, and glances down to make sure his trousers are buttoned. Absently, to Eztli and Carver and (somewhat) Telamon, he adds, louder if a bit hesitantly, "Praise Daeus? I ate one of these cookies once and woke up wearing my pants as a hat."

"They can pay me to carry the boxes back out, iffin' they want... otherwise, nope." Carver asides to Eztli with a helpless shrug, not understanding the assorted side-eyeing. Or understanding the social norms well enough to understand some morales are being stretched. Or even outright broken?

The forest, for all its windy trails, is less a maze than the great Game as it was. "'m surprised you wantin' to." There is one thing she catches. "Hey, Robes. What unknown territory?"

"Well, guess we aren't loading up the supplies again. Cheers for that, I'd say, wasn't asking you to work for free. What's that though? I thought you owned this place Telamon, how's it being rented out by someone else?"

"Ah, who cares what elven connoisseurs think is a good vintage. They think that alcohol is better because the dust has dust on it on the bottle, not because of anything useful like, you know, taste." The small makari snorts. "Still, seems like a decent enough reason for celebrating."

Aniutiom smiles a superior smile at Telamon. "Yes, it really was quite a find. We've been searching for years for some proof of our theories and finally it's borne fruit."

This gets a baleful glare from the young man who looks liable to jump Aniutiom and throttle him with his bare hands. Yet he doesn't. He just stands there and turns his hopeful-sad eyes on Skyler trying to mentally send the sky pirate a message that is so far as of yet not being received.

"As for explaining what it was..." The mage waves a hand carelessly at Carver. "It's not for the layman to know just yet. But soon it will better the lives of all and the Mages of Daeus shall have their day in the sun at long last."

GAME: Skyler rolls wisdom: (3)+2: 5

GAME: Skyler rolls wisdom: (11)+2: 13

"I've heard that before, Aniutiom. My personal favorite was when someone tried to redeem Ellran the Unlucky's recursive metamagic technique. He spent six weeks in the care of Althean clerics -- guess he was luckier than Ellran." Telamon's tone is mildly dismissive. "In any case, you have Master Turow's permission. Don't let things get out of hand. I don't want to find out one of your guests broke something while in a drunken stupor."

Tel gives Eztli an amused and annoyed look. "Oh, come -on-. Some liquors and spirits need time to properly mature -- and you can't speed up that process." He shakes his head, trying not to snicker at Skyler's comment.

At first, Skyler raises an eyebrow at the young man, pointing one finger at his own chest, and then at the young man, back to himself, then at the archmage, and waggles an eyebrow as if to ask 'you askin' me to join?'.

And then something seems to click, and Skyler's jaw clenches tight, all the humor evaporating from his face as his attention turns to Aniutiom. "Telamon." Skyler says quietly, voice flat and eyes harder than anyone in the room has ever seen before as he moves quickly to put himself near the young man, "Do you know what a 'Golden Songbird' is? If not, Carver can tell you, but I swear by the Gods themselves that we need to protect that young man. If that mage tries to take him, we need to do whatever it takes to prevent it."

GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/religion: (6)+13: 19

GAME: Eztli rolls knowledge/religion: Trained Use Only: 0

Carver's eyes about roll out her head at the dismissive tone, turning back to Eztli. She might have been about to ask about setting time aside for dinner or even a discussion on what they'd want to eat. You hungry? Yeah, for what? Mmmm, no not that...

Everyone knows this age-old trope. Still, it's not her name that catches her attention. It's the off-color(heh) callback to something dark and evil and wicked her Mada warned her of. She looks to Skyler first, then past him to the boy. Her expression darkens...

"Yeah but there's a limit! Once you go past a few decades, you aren't gaining much, so you don't need 500 year old aged elven brandy made from imported apples farmed by skeletons in charn or something." Eztli pouted, oblivious for at least a short moment. She looked to the others, tilted her head one way, then another. "What's that? You know what it is, Carver?" She asks, looking between her and the boy.

The young man looks shocked by Skyler's outburst, and the mage infuriated. "What?" Aniutiom growls the word. "I'll have you know that I've done nothing to warrant any sort of action against me. Now I'd be grateful if you all left your deliveries and *went*. Now." He motions stiffly toward the door.

The phrase means nothing to Telamon, but his eyebrows rise in puzzlement. "Who is this lad, in any case? I didn't know you'd taken on an apprentice." His expression becomes a bit dour. "Also, before you go herding your help out the door, it behooves you to make sure they're paid for their time and effort."

The archmage idly rests his hands on his belt -- close to the haversack hanging off his hip, as well as a smaller pouch embroidered with the symbol of Eluna. "Let's not do anything hasty here, ladies and gentlefolk."

"It is a disgusting, perverse ritual where a young man is weakened through poisoned sweets, and *slowly* boiled alive in gold." Skyler all but spits, eyes hard, "Their bones are placed in a box, and the so-called 'Golden Songbird' is bound to whoever holds his box with his eternal torment payment for endless wealth. Some weeks back, I was sent on a mission to recover a box. The poor creature bound to the box tried to stop me, but I ignored him and gave his bones." Skyler's eyes are hard as gemstones, "I have a lock of his hair in a pouch, ripped from his head, if you would like to use your magic to verify his identity."

"I do know what it is... yeah, it was an old legend. From early Charn." Carver says, letting Skyler have the explanation. She does not join in the accusation, but she does find the usually flippant man's lack of coy playfulness a compelling argument. She believes that Skyler believes.

"That means... what the actual hells?" Eztli wonders incredulously, stepping a bit forward. "You know, that is pretty abrupt to just send us off like that, and you aren't refuting that but just trying to rush us out the door. Real strange thing, that, you know."

"Real strange, Robes." Carver echoes.

The young man stays silent as the mage fumes. He looks at Telamon and shakes his head. "This young man is my assistant. As Shuichi is yours I'm sure." He offers this dryly and with some irritation. "I don't appreciate being maligned. I paid the young man there for the box and now he's causing a ruckus. If all of you are going to cause me trouble then I'm going to *insist* that you leave."

GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (6)+29: 35

"My name, *sir*, is Christopher Carl von Wayne of the House of Ashewell. My father is the Lord of Gull's Edge, an ancient title of Myrrish nobility." Skyler... *Christopher* straightens with every bit of dignity and venom he can manage with his slight build and scant height. "If you attempt to lay hands on me, or slight my honor, although I have renounced my own titles present or future, you will be assaulting or accusing the son of foreign nobility of *slander*." He leans forward, "And I'll remind you, this isn't your house... It's *his*." And he jerks his thumb at Telamon.

GAME: Skyler rolls intimidate: (20)+10: 30

"You overstep yourself, Idoren Aniutiom." Telamon's expression has gone from dour to... cold. First, you have absolutely -no- right to demand I leave a Chalice property." At Skyler's sudden reveal, Telamon's eyebrows rise, but he doesn't comment -- though there's a look in his eyes that says there'll be a discussion later.

"Secondly, a serious accusation has been made. Trafficking in such relics is heavily regulated, if not forbidden, and with good reason. Such a creation would be anathema in the eyes of many gods -- not the least of which would be Daeus." He pauses, considering, before he continues. "I wish to see this box. I won't steal your thunder if it turns out to be harmless. But I will not have such an artifact pass unhindered into this place."

GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nobility: (3)+13: 16

"That, yeah, the way you're acting makes me want to butt my head in more, really." The small makari huffed. "Especially if you might be harming a child with your actions. I really don't care about being paid that much, but if there's someone in need, well, what's that about a box you were given? Didn't they mention a box, too?"

"Uh," Carver intones. It's a very lacking sound cue at Skyler's shocking reveal. To her? It's pretty easy leap over her head. She refocuses on not the matter of birthright, but instead, Death Rites. She takes a deep breath. "Your 'assistant' seems quite quiet. Strange, innit?"

"I didn't bring the box with me." Idoren says stiffly. "So I will not be showing it to anyone. Nor would I hand it over. It's an invaluable artifact. Now, if you won't be so kind as to leave. Then *I* am leaving." He moves toward the door and stares at Carver. "My assistant can quite speak for himself. I'm sure he simply has nothing of value to add."

"Indeed." Mutters the young man, as if to himself. He rolls his eyes expressively and looks at Skyler as he moves to join the man he's been following this whole time.

GAME: Skyler rolls cmb: (13)+9: 22

GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (19)+29: 48

"When I saw him last, he indicated there was some sort of geis on him that prevents him from disobeying whoever holds his box." Skyler reached out to grab the young man's wrist to try and shove him behind him. Not because he expects to be able to man-handle the young man again... But to force an reaction from either of them.

Unfortunately, due to either the stress of the entire situation, from facing *two* of his biggest shames, it isn't the *best* grab. He mostly catches shirt. To the young man, he says earnestly, "No matter what happens, I failed you in that desert. I swear on my *true* name that I will do anything in my power to keep it from happening again. Telamon, you are a powerful sorcerer. Surely you can divine his nature... Or if there is any enchantment on him to *hide* that. You know my instincts are good. Remember Shamrynn?"

"You know, I'm willing to believe the person at least attempting to be honest about what they're saying. Especially when you might be trying to prove your innocence, but claiming a geas to follow orders out of the blue would be pretty absurd at the drop of a hat. This all just reeks, to be honest." *Eztli growls, heading for the door.* "You're acting awfully suspicious, really, and you don't get to just leave at the first sign of apprehension."

Telamon begins to walk towards Idoren. It shouldn't be so ominous. But there's something in his mien, his posture, that radiates menace and danger. Not the danger of a wildfire, or an attacking army. But a cold, impersonal menace, like a mountain looming overhead. His boots clack on the floor as he regards the mage with a pitiless expression.

"Idoren," he says quietly, "what do you think Daeus will do to you if you praise Him with something like that in your possession? Do you think He will approve of you? I would -fear- to approach Ni'essa Sky-Singer with something like that in hand, save to lay it at Her feet for Her disposal." A pause. "Please don't lie to me again."

When Skyler grabs the young man, and calls on Tel to study him, the sorcerer makes a thoughtful sound. "I can do that. Or if all else fails, I can examine it... elsewhere." The way he says it suggests 'elsewhere' might be somewhere far away indeed.

Carver only has eyes for the wizard, tracking every little tick or movement. Every inch of her own mien looks like a hunting's cat, who is gazing at prey.

Idoren's eyes narrow at Telamon. "The artifact was made in honor of Daeus, and in his name I will never hand it over lightly. Let go of my assistant *boy* or whoever you are; you *will* suffer the consequences."

There's a moment of hesitation and then, "Nemenba, come with me. *Now*."

The young man - identified now as Nemenba - looks at Skyler sadly. "Please Christopher, do not force me to harm you." It seems that he truly wishes to harm none, but...

GAME: Telamon casts True Seeing. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26

"Sometimes, Nemenba, you're faced between a choice of what's right, and what's easy." Skyler tells the young man, his eyes still on the archmage. "What's easy was not looking in that fucking box when I had the chance, taking the paycheck to do the job I was hired to do. What's right?" His jaw clenches tight, "Well. I always assumed I'd die mouthing off to someone. Assumed it'd be Telamon, but I'm flexible with the specifics."

He narrows his eyes. "As for you... Gods don't like those that take their names in vain, Idoren. And probably like those that commit abominations in their name. Strike me down, and I'll call the wrath of Daeus on you with my dying breath. Think He won't listen, that he won't use that technicality to impose His will?"

When Idoren turns his ire on Skyler, Telamon takes his chance. "Irhandi igi-kar, namzu igi-bad," he intones, his eyes turning completely black, lit with tiny lights. Stars. His gaze is a starfield, as it moves from Idoren to Nememba... and stops. For a moment, he stares.

Then his gaze moves back to Idoren, and his voice is thick with rage. "What have you done, Aniutiom?" Telamon's hair begins to float around his head, like he's underwater -- or in a place devoid of gravity. "This boy, Nememba... he's not an assistant. You've bound his spirit!" His fists clench. "Release him, Idoren. I won't tell you twice."

Carver's fingers brush over the red fletching of her arrows, slowly drawing one. She cannot demand the attention of a room nor the stars in the sky but one thing she's really good at?

Killing monsters.

Eztli didn't have much more to say to someone who was refusing to listen or speak clearly. The small makari continued to growl from where she was standing, fingers tapping the side of her robe angrily.

Maybe Idoren doesn't want to try the gods today. Maybe he sees Carver drawing an arrow. Maybe he's just not feeling lucky with stars gleaming in Telamon's eyes. He lifts a hand. "Come to me now Nemenba, take me away and let none follow. NOW - I COMMAND YOU!"

The young man shudders at the words, becoming ghost-like and slipping through Skyler's fingers. He goes to his master then and wraps his arms around Idoren as if they were friendly, but there's sorrow and hate in his eyes. "I am sorry." It's hard to say who he's talking to, but then he's gone. Gone with Idoren. Gone without a trace. No spell spoken, no gestures of magic. Just gone. Powerful magic indeed.

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (5)+26: 31

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (15)+26: 41

GAME: Carver rolls spellcraft: (18)+7: 25

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (9)+26: 35

"Coward." Skyler... Christopher?... spits with pure anger etched in every line of his face, painting a picture of someone that is an absolute stranger that just happens to look like the ditzy, devil-may-care ex sky pirate. "*Coward*!"

He turns, moving with the same quick, effortless grace that he's used to decapitate monsters to grab at Telamon, "I have the hair in my belt pouch, will it help you track him? He also has a piece of my mithril shirt."

"You're, aw, hell, no, you aren't getting the fuck away with this, now." Eztli grumbles. "Sounds like you got enough to go on then with the archmage here. Count me in, that man is going to wish he got boiled to death slowly if half of what you said was true."

Carver grabs Eztli's arm as she goes to join them, "Be careful." Her green eyes stare down at the shorter Sith, before bowing to kiss her briefly atop the head and gently pushing her to aide the Archmage and the Mouth from the Sky. "I'll go make sure the temple knows of his crime. Good luck, yous!" Then she's off in a supernatural burst of speed.

With Skyler and Eztli moving in close, Telamon nods. "Carver, take word to the Temples and to the Arcanists. I'll try and send back word via Lana." With that, he begins chanting. "Anungal, kaskal nu siten, ula'ulla!"

There's a crackle of energy around him -- some kind of interference, that he brushes aside, wrapping the three of them in a sphere of multihued light that shrinks down to nothing. The three are rocketing down a tunnel of incandescence, until -- something goes awry.

Very awry.

The sensation is like being grabbed and -thrown-, for lack of a better term. Like a whip being cracked, before suddenly the sphere pops back into existence in the observatory and dissipates, not in the usual sedate way but shattering like a crystal ball dropped carelessly. The Archmage himself is slammed to the floor, eyes wide in shock and gasping for breath.

"What the FUCK?!"