Seat of Our Noble Line

Ivyhold Manor.

It's a structure that has seen better days. What was once a proud and opulent house in rolling fields of green has visibly gone into ruin. Windows are boarded up, stone is covered with moss and ivy, the grass allowed to grow tall and shaggy. A three-story building that has seen generations of the Padaryn family, dating back to when the family was gifted a minor noble title by the Myrrish crown that fell out of the family along the way, in disrepair.

Yet not far from its boarded-up doors, a group of adventurers approach. Among them is a Padaryn himself, with blue eyes to match the Padaryn that has been glimpsed in a vision past: a noted wizard in Bryn Myridorn's Magicians Guild known as Rhain Padaryn, whose last known whereabouts were locked within this very manor.

It is a beautiful day, far too bright and sunny for the work that the group intends to do here. It's quiet. Somewhere off in the distance, songbirds sing their little songs. For all of the ruined opulence that is here in these fields of green--life goes on unassuming around it.

"Alas, alas, for my house has fallen into ruin, and my fields lie fallow, rich only with wildflowers and the small beasts of the forest." Telamon is quoting something, as he studies the manor, grand even in its disrepair. Dressed in adventuring garb -- the durable tunic and trousers with black boots, with his sleeveless coat over that, his starry eyes sweep the environs, examining, looking for trouble. Unlikely this early on, but you never know.

Looking to Seldan, his expression is wry. "If you're able to reclaim it, Sir Seldan, it's going to need a fair bit of work to restore. Still... it doesn't seem to be a complete loss."

Zeke is outfitted as he usually is. His armor over his more simple clothes, and the markings of his deity written clearly on his chest. The flight of the platinum dragon on a sunburst. He holds his quarterstaff with his flesh-and-blood claw, looking toward the manor where it stands. Though the place is surrounded by life, he has - he feels - good reason to be cautious of the place.

He glances to his left. First at the crystal arm that has been a part of him for so long, his expression troubled, and then at Seldan at his side. He tries to read the other man's expression, but even his kin has never been wholly easy for him to read. Beyond Seldan there is Telamon, and Verna. Both able allies from what he's seen and knows of them.

"Do we... jussst go in the front door?" Zeke sounds uncertain and he dislikes this fact.

Seldan stares up at the dilapidated manor house, in full adventuring kit bereft of all concealment and play-down, staring up at the time-worm rock above the door. A brass key is held in one gauntleted hand, and his gaze steady, thoughtful, and yet with some deep level of drive, of curiosity, of determination. "I know not if the key will work in any other door. That do I think unlikely," he tells Zeke, looking over at the lizard who may as well be his brother.

"That is not for me to decide, Master Telamon," he answers the archmage simply. "For it belongs to the family from which I have been cast. My honored father is unlikely to change his mind. My one hope is that the decision is not wholly his. That - remains to be seen." The words are quiet and even.

Telamon furrows his brow, before reaching into his haversack and pulling out a flask. Uncapping it, he takes a swig, savoring the tea before swallowing and speaking again. "Decisions can be renegotiated, Sir Seldan. But let's not put the cart before the horse." Putting his flask away, he continues, "Rhain was a skilled wizard. I think we should start by checking for magical traps -- symbols, that sort of thing. You never know what someone's idea of 'No Solicitors' might look like."

He looks to Verna, and gestures for her to hang back a bit. If something -does- get set off, better someone be clear of it to take action.

Zeke tilts his head at Seldan, blinking curiously. Then he looks at the house again, commenting more to Telamon than to Seldan. "The driving off of the evil here will be enough for thisss one. It would be lovely here with-out thisss... houssse." He hesitates as if the word 'house' is not the first one that comes to his mind. He looks at Seldan, never will he wholly understand the man's attachment to his nest-kin. But then, how could he, having had none himself in his growing? All that truly matters is that it is important to _Seldan_. For whom, Zeke would have walked any hall.

Thus he motions for Seldan to take the lead, hanging back only a little. This is Seldan's trial, but he will be here every step of the way.

GAME: Seldan attempts to cast Detect Magic but fails due to ASF.
GAME: Seldan casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 16 DC: 20

Seldan lets out a slow breath. "Even so," he murmurs, though to what, is unclear. As it so often does in his heaviest armor, his first attempt at a swift cantrip fizzles, and he lets out a long sigh and switches tacks to a different sigil configuration, one that is still simple. At length, the blue-gold-silver film forms again before his eyes.

"Give up on the spells in armor, boy," Kanian's querulous voice chides him. "It's one or the other for a reason."

"A symbol," he murmurs after a moment, ignoring the sword and leaving it to bleat in silence. "I think it not the usual trigger, though. It is in my mind that it is keyed either to the key, or to myself and those of my family. Perhaps it may be dispelled," he murmurs. "But - perhaps it is better, does another attempt."

GAME: Telamon casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 18 DC: 21
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+sorcerer: (12)+18: 30

Telamon nods to Seldan and grins tightly. "Told you. I've thought about putting them up at home but I need to spend some time figuring out how to key them so I don't accidentally zap the neighbors or some hapless idiot trying to sell me a used wagon." He gestures for Seldan and Zeke to back up a bit, and holds out a hand, his eyes narrowing.

"Emegar sag dar," he incants, his voice rolling out and a bit of ice forming around his boots that melts away swiftly. A wave of abjuring energy rushes out from him, over the doorstep, and he lowers his hand. "Did I get it? It felt like something happened there."

Zeke can't tell what's going on magically speaking, but he trusts Telamon and Seldan to know better these things than he does. If Telamon failed, then faith might prevail, but the mage indicates that he 'feels' that something happens so Zeke restrains himself from adding to the effort. Best to save his own for an opportune moment if he can. Thus he stays where he is and awaits Seldan's pronouncement.

"It is no more, Master Telamon. I see nothing. And yet - perhaps it were best, did another hold the key. It is in my mind that many traps that remain here are intended for me, and thus would I shield you." Seldan lets out a breath, but does not yet dismiss the spell. "Will you, or shall I?"

Telamon hmms. "Zeke, can you hold it for now? I want to keep my hands free. If Sir Seldan -- or gods forbid, you or I -- set off something, it'll make it easier for me to throw a counter. Which reminds me..." He gestures deftly, and chants, "Akar irhandi." Blue-white planes of force snap into existence around him, before fading into invisibility. "No point in asking for trouble..."

GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 18 DC: 19

"Thisss one will do ssso and gladly." Zeke says, and indeed he seems pleased to take the key from Seldan, but for the moment it goes into a pocket. There are boards to displace from the door before he can unlock the door, and he pushes up the sleeve of his right arm (there's no sleeve to the left) and sets to the work with vigor!

Seldan quite willingly hands it over, and when Zeke strides forwards to begin the work of removing the boards, he strides forward to do the same. Many hands makes light work, and this, at the least, is something Seldan can readily do. He sets a foot against the stone side of the door, prying each free with sheer muscle.

Once the boards are down, Zeke suggests for everyone to step back. The Sunguard puts the key into the door and unlocks it. It takes a moment--there's a feeling that maybe, from nearly two centuries of disuse, the door's locks aren't quite working anymore, but then they click back out of place once persuaded to do so with a slightly firmer twist of the key than normal.

The door opens up into... dust. Lots of it. But also ruin. What were once marble floors and a fine carpet bearing the Padaryn family crest that leads up to a marvelous staircase of fine wood have seen destruction. The marble floors are scratched up and coated in grime and dust. The carpet is slashed apart, like someone had taken a knife or a sword to it. The staircase seems precarious, as parts of the structure have also been hacked apart--perhaps by whoever it was that destroyed the carpet.

There are precisely two doors. Left and right. The left-hand one bears a piece of parchment hanging to it by a small knife.

Telamon draws back at Zeke's request -- he's in no hurry to go diving in. And as the door finally opens for the first time in two centuries, Tel watches the light spill into an entry hall that once was beautiful now fallen to ruin. His eyes grow sad, but they never lose focus, flicking back and forth, looking for movement, threats, clues.

His gaze falls on the note pinned to the door, and cautiously, the half-elf leans forward a little before stopping. "Sir Seldan," he says softly. "Do you want to go first? This is your house."

Zeke stands in the doorway, pushing himself back against the open door so that it can not close. Allowing others to enter should they choose. The note is certainly an interesting thing, and it draws his curiosity, but not enough to leave the doorway. "Thisss one isss concerned that if thisss one allowssss, that the door will clossse. Ssso thisss one will remain here until a direction isss chossen."

"I shall." A million questions swirl in Seldan's mind as he takes several steps forward, to the center of the ruined carpet, takes in the ruined once-splendor of the place, mentally comparing it to the boyhood home he remembers. Blue eyes rove slowly over every detail. _What must we once have been?_ he wonders silently. _Truly are we fallen, more than I had guessed._

At length, he studies the options, the doors. "The stairs are no longer sound, and it will want significant skill to put them right," he murmurs to the others. "I could fly up, but not all of us can do so, and first would I explore." It is the parchment, though, that catches his eye. Again, he studies it most carefully with his magic-veiled eyes.

The parchment on the left-hand door, kept there by the cruel pin of the small blade that's buried into the fine wood, is folded over ever so slightly. But there are three words that can be read, clear as day, in a hand that appeared to have been trembling when writing it:

help me Eluna

GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (17)+25: 42
GAME: Zeke rolls Perception: (7)+5: 12
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (13)+25: 38

Telamon follows Seldan in, his eyes continuing to move. Cautious and careful, feet kicking up a little dust as he walks in. As they approach the note, he sees the words, shaky and driven by emotion. His eyes shift back to Seldan. "Should I take it?" he inquires. "A plea to Ni'essa Sky-Singer should not be left behind, even one as simple as this--"

Then he pauses, tilting his head. He looks to Seldan and Zeke, and points upstairs, holding up a single finger. He hears something.

The sounds of chirping birds reminds Zeke of something. He forgot to eat before he arrived. Silly sith. He blinks a glimpse outside, but doesn't move. Maybe he can catch sight of one of the delicious little snacks-on-wings. He notices Telamon's finger lifting and he tilts his head. A bird upstairs? His stomach makes a loud grumbling noise.

Slowly, Seldan frees the note from its pin, and lays aside the knife, studying it, but his gaze goes unerringly upstairs, a snap of the head. "We ought keep it," he murmurs. "He suffered - and suffers yet," he murmurs. "In Her own time does the Dreamer send you aid. Too tardy is your aid by half, but - yet am I here now."

He turns back, and offers Telamon the note. "I would - keep all that we find, if we may. There is much here that would tell a tale, a tale I would know in full."

GAME: Telamon rolls Reflex: (19)+11: 30
GAME: Zeke rolls Reflex: (19)+6: 25
GAME: Seldan rolls reflex: (5)+26: 31

As Seldan says the words 'a tale I would know in full', a streak of light come down the staircase, a thing that's accompanied by such a burst of wind as it blows through that Seldan, Zeke, and Telamon barely manage to stand upright. It's a thing that cuts down until it stops in the middle of the room and builds up from the floor into...

A door in wood painted blue, standing freely without support. One with fine letters further painted onto it with a very fine hand, in a script that doesn't correspond to any language but somehow reads to all present as: 'The Opening'.

It creaks open and shows... a waterfall? Yes, that's a waterfall, a moderately-sized one beside others that leads into a dry and massive canyon below, a sight that induces vertigo just by looking at how deep down it goes.

Telamon lets out a slightly undignified yelp at the blast of wind and the streak of light, vaulting to the side with his hands coming up. But then...

"What... oh." Tel stares at the doorway, and the bizarre point of view. "Oh. Huh. I think I read about something like this. You can orient a gate in any direction -- same principle here." He glances at Seldan and Zeke. "Not sure about stepping through this, though. At least not yet."

Zeke doesn't move from his spot at the door as a... new door makes itself known. He eyes it suspiciously. "Remember the memoriessss of the king Ssseldan. And the requessstsss that you might make." He looks at the other man steadily, reminding him by presence alone of the elvish king whose memory they had been pulled into. It had not been... fun.

Caught more by surprise than the other two, Seldan is just about blown over by the gust of wind, and goes sprawling into the grime and dust, only to roll to his feet a few feet away. He gets slowly to his feet, and tucks the note into armor that is already swiftly cleaning itself and returning to that pearlescent sheen. His fair hair is les fortunate.

He surveys the door, then shakes his head. "A gate, then. It may not always be easy to return, and thus would I explore the manor itself, as much as I may." His gaze lingers on the door, though. "Your warning is well-heeded, Zeke, but I am not averse to closing the door. We have the means to return, should that be needful."

Telamon nods. "We're agreed then. Let's... check the house first, before taking a look-see through a door that may go a LONG ways off." He looks up at the rickety staircase, suspiciously. "Zeke, do you have any way to fly? I could lift you up with telekinesis once we move on to that second story, because I really don't trust those stairs."

He makes a point to inspect the left door as well, the one where the note had been pinned. "I wonder if that key unlocks more than the front door?"

Zeke nods to Seldan, closing the door to the manor with trepidation. He seems reluctant and then he counters his own argument. "If you mean to go through, it may not linger kin. It issss your choisce which path we choossse. But if this one goesss away; it may not return." Such was the nature of magic after all.

Seldan surveys the door, even features softening into a gaze that is more than affection. It is awe. It is adoration. It is a look that he only ever wears when he turns his face to Eluna, and only when he thinks himself alone. "Nay, Zeke," he whispers. "She is not absent. She listens. And she invites us. She will await us."

The door holds his gaze for a moment longer, before he tears himself away with an effort. "Come, let us learn what else we may. It may be that we will learn more in our search. Be not afraid, kin, for the Dreamer walks with us."

-TBC