The Night's Kiss

    Lupecyll-Atlon home, afternoon

The weather, to be perfectly blunt, is lousy. A chill wind blows through the city, and rain spatters down unceasingly. It's not a day to be out and about. It's a day to be indoors, with a cup of hot tea and a good book.

Telamon is seated in the living room, dressed casually, but the fireplace is lit and stoked, and a steaming kettle sits on the coffee table. A mug in hand, as he peruses a heavy tome, his brows furrowed in deep thought. A pause, as he leans down to make some notes in his elegant script, an eye-bending diagram sketched out.

The day certainly is lousy. The Goblin, her robes covered by a heavy leather cloak and hood, mutters grumpily every time she steps in a puddle. A spring shower might be fun to splash around with, but Khaltaas rains are cold and miserable.

Her goal in sight, she hurries up the path to the Lupecyll-Atlon front door. pulling a couple of times on the bell pull.

She looks only slightly miserable.

Telamon's head jerks up in confusion, and it's clear he was a million miles away. He tilts his head, then frowns, setting down his tea and his book, before getting to his feet. "Who in the Dreamer's name could be out and about..." Padding to the door, he opens it a couple inches before seeing who it is.

"Simony! Gods, girl, come in, come in!" Tel's wearing a loose linen tunic over woolen trousers and soft slippers, but he beckons the goblin priestess inside without a care. "I hope all is well. The weather is enough to make one take back everything we said about summer!"

The Gobbo is in quickly, and stepping out of her boots. "This is the worst part of the year, once the leaves turn colours and fall, the cold rains come." She sniffles. "I've caught a cold." Her normally pale nose is an irritated red in colour. "Where may I hang up my cloak?"

Her hair is noticeably shorter, since Telamon saw her last.

"I've come to ask a favour."

The half-sil sorcerer is nothing if not a good host. Helping Simony doff her boots, he hangs her cloak up next to a couple of others next to the door. "Well, that won't do. Come along, Simony." It's a lot like getting picked up in Telamon's telekinetic sphere, as he guides her to the warm living room. A large, fluffy blanket, embroidered with birds in flight is tucked around her, and Telamon is pouring a mug of tea for his guest, having forgotten -- for the moment -- his notes and the book on the table.

"Now then... I hope your hair length is because you decided to trim it, and not because someone trimmed it for you. That's always inconvenient." At her request for a favor, he tilts his head. "Ask. I can't guarantee a 'yes' but I will hear you out."

Simony seems a bit unsure of how to handle the host's hostness, but allows herself to be guided along. She giggles at the blanket's depiction of birds, and makes a little noise of satisfaction as she settles into its comfort.

"Kind of both. There was a uhm ... failed Guild mission in one of the older, disused mines nearby, an old Khazad thing. There were demons involved, and they had imprisoned a phoenix, which the adventurers were attempting to rescue. Slixvah was part of the first mission, and had regrouped for the second. I went along, to bring light into the darkness. Oh, one of the adventurers had also been captured, so that was also part of our mission, to rescue her. Big lady giantborn, named Thurid, she had the biggest hammer I've ever seen. Amazing woman, incredible fighter."

Her admiration for Thurid is obvious. "There were these demon dog things that were capable of summoning more of themselves, and also... cast fireball. I burned again, Telamon. But my hair survived, mostly intact. I had to cut a chunk of it off, though, since it did get a little crispy."

The Gobbo lets out a breath. "It was a hard fight, but we won. But, uhm, the favour I was going to ask was.. can you make that salve again? And does it work on feathers? Slixvah got hit pretty bad, and she has some bald patches."

Telamon listens, his starry eyes glimmering as he picks up his mug again. Sipping from it, he nods. "You freed the phoenix, then? Well done, Simony. That fiends should try to capture such a wondrous creature..." His lip curls in contempt, before his face smooths out again.

"Thurid is actually known to me. We worked together escorting a fey noblewoman home a while back. She's an impressive warrior." Telamon's expression lightens considerably. "If you see her before I do, tell her Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon still remembers her skill and strength when we escorted the Lady Nuala."

His expression becomes puzzled. "She did? But she was with us when--" He pauses. "Oh. Ah... you had some left, and you gave it to her, didn't you? It appears it works on feathers as well as hair." He starts laughing. "Alright, how about I make -both- of you a jar. Just in case?"

The Goblin's frown imitates Telamon's, though it has more teeth showing. "Indeed. I smacked some of them around my my holy fist, and I nullified their charm on Aelwyn before he could hurt Slixvah. I also undid the wounds caused by teeth and stinger and fireball. But as I healed up the phoenix, Slixvah and Thurid worked on the chains holding her Majesty down. The others fought tooth and nail against the demon spawn. A hard won battle, but we carried the day."

Simony nods, "I shall pass that along to her when I see her next. I may search her out, I'd like to talk to her."

Her grin is broad and toothy. "I did give her the remaining amount, but I was not sure there would be enough. I suggested she seek you out, but with the bad weather, and the recent troubles her family endured, I thought bad weather would deter her from seeking you out. I thought I would do her a favour. I am glad it worked." Simony's smile brightens further. "That would be good of you. May I compensate you in some manner for it?"

Telamon claps his hands together. "There you go! Well done indeed, Simony!" He gestures, and there's a susurrus in the air. The unseen servant moves away, as he takes another sip of tea. "You are so much stronger now. The Historian chose well, when he picked you."

"When it comes to finding Thurid, she's an Angorite, so start at the Colosseum. They practically view that as a temple in itself." Tel's expression is wry. "A bit more physical work than I care for, but to each their own."

He looks thoughtful. "Well, she showed no signs of bare spots when I saw her. Granted, we were a -little- busy, too -- let's not discuss it though. Grim stuff, and not all of it is my story to tell." He hums a bit. "Well, friends don't ask for compensation for favors. Friends help each other and that's it. But if it weighs on you, how about you critique my accent?" And then Telamon's words shift into the characteristic sharp tones of Goblin-Talk, "After all, I do try to do my homework." <Goblin-talk>

Simony's ears perk up, her eyes wide, and she giggles at length after he speaks Goblin-talk. "It always seems, to me, a little funny watching tall folk speaking Gobbo speak. It seems so... incongruent. As if you are almost too tall for such a voice to come from you." She hops up, moving to Telamon's side, and she pats his arm. "Try again, but hmm, how to explain it? Speak from a little bit father back in your throat. Get a bit more scratch in your throat. Aside from that, your pronunciation is excellent!"

The Gobbo nods then, "Angorite, hmm? We have them up at the monastery fairly often, so I can ask around. And I training with Aryia fairly often, and that's at the Colosseum, so I don't think I'll miss her there."

She pauses for a moment, her cheeks turning a mottled red. "I am glad you think so, but I find myself full of doubt. I am not strong enough, yet."

Telamon nods. "It's like Yrch-Speak, you have to kind of push from the gut a bit..." He focuses, then says, "But don't ask me to sample the peppers." He then takes a sip of his tea, and grins. "That sounds better, don't you think?" He reaches over to hug Simony, before continuing. <Goblin-talk>

"Maybe, but you might be strong enough for what tasks lie ahead. Remember, I was not that much different from you not that long ago. A young man with a few scraps of arcane, star-born power and the world to explore. I believe the saying is 'from the tiny acorn, the mighty oak grows'." He gives her shoulder a squeeze.

At this juncture, the unseen servant returns, bearing a tray with bread, cheese, honey, and a couple small glasses along with a wax-sealed wine bottle. "And I think a snack is in order. I offered once to let you sample the wines I make -- I believe a toast to the freedom of a phoenix is a good occasion."

"Yes, yes!", she says excitedly. "Yrch and Gobbo are related, diverging from each other many ages ago!" <Goblin-talk>

Grinning, Simony continues, "Now, if you could magic yourself shorter, and maybe paint yourself green, you can be a regular Goblin!" The hug is returned enthusiastically.

Her expression falls slightly, and she shrugs her shoulders faintly. "Were you lacking in self confidence, and worrying about failing others, fearing that you might not be up to the tasks set before you. Where a slip up may lead to the harm or deaths of others? I'm trying very hard not to worry so much, but so much has happened of late, well, the more I do, the larger the chance of failure."

Her stomach gurgles at the mention of food, and she's already reaching for the bread and cheese. The honey is inspected closely, and sniffed at curiously, before a little of it is added to her slice of bread.

"That's a good reason to break out some wine, yes, and I would love to try some of your libations."

Telamon regards Simony with a kind expression. "Yes. I was... well, am, still good at putting up my brave front. I didn't want anyone to see how scared I was, so I put on a smile and refused to let anyone see me sweat." He sighs. "Lana knows that sometimes my confidence is... not as strong as it could be. I wake up some days wondering how the hells I found her, courted her, married her. Of course, she feels the same way, so I guess it balances out."

He pauses, and his head tilts in a characteristic way. And then a smile spreads across his face, a genuine one, and he relaxes a bit. "The point is you give as much as you can -- and you try to do the right thing, as best you can." He begins cutting slices of cheese, while the unseen servant begins to open the wine bottle. The wax seal removed first, before the cork begins to work its way out on its own.

"You're the bravest person I know, then, Telamon. You have always remain composed, in those times we shared ... interesting moments together. Like the demon remnant." Her expression becomes furtive for a moment, "It is hard to speak of it, even to you. Uhm. How is the uhm... baby business going?"

She nods then, settling down next to Telamon. "I do try to give all that I can, though I try to save something up, some trick or spell as a last resort, yes? Do you do that, too?" The hovering wine bottle is eyed curiously, the progress of the cork observed.

Telamon's expression becomes guarded as well. His eyes flick around the room, reflexively, but then he relaxes. "Don't speak of that anywhere but here, Simony. But things are progressing. And... certain threads have come together. I suspect our foe has finally overreached himself, and now all we need to do is close the trap on him."

The cork comes free with a pop, and Telamon deftly takes the bottle to pour a small measure into each glass. The liquor is dark violet, but visible in it are small sparkles. As though a starry sky had been poured into each glass. "To return to your later question, it depends. If it is someone I really do not wish to hurt, I will try to 'pull my blows', disable them without hurting them. On the other hand, some creatures do not wish to work things out -- and so sometimes the best solution is to hammer them unrelentingly. Until they retreat, surrender, or fall."

"I am unable to, Telamon. All I can freely do is say it is a rumour, and only that. I took a vow of silence. Specifically so I could not accidentally or intentionally spill the beans."

The Goblin smiles faintly. "I am glad that the trap is about to be sprung. The sooner, the better."

Simony jumps as the cork comes free. She sniffs at her glass, peering curiously at the wine dark skies inside. "Changing my spell arrangement around to take into account all the things demons could do was more arduous than I realized it would be. And even when I was ready, it still felt inadequate. The only thing I was confident on was having enough healing to go around."

"So am I." Telamon's face grows hard for a moment. "This... act Lana and I have put on, it angers me and wearies me. I want to take her in my arms while out and about. Dance with her on the surface of the Tornmawr. Go to one of her concerts. Instead, I am forced to feign being a 'wronged husband'. I am soothed only by the knowledge that none of it is true -- and that in time, all will be well -- and that our enemy has taken the bait."

A deep breath, and Tel picks up a slice of cheese, chewing on it and brightening. "Well, at least your magics can be modified. My own spells tend to be deep-rooted expressions and do not change easily, if at all. And no one will -ever- turn down healing, especially in a fight." He lifts his glass, and touches it to Simony's. "To freedom," he says simply, before sipping.

Distracted from the wine for a moment, Simony looks sad. She moves to hug at the man. "It will all be made right again, Telamon. And Cor'lana is also hurting, she wants you to sweep her up in your arms, and to see your face looking up at her while she sings. I can see it her eyes, and hear it in her voice."

At the touching of her glass, she smiles. "To freedom. Oh. I... I think I have a gift for you." The Gobbo takes a breath, and swallows down the entire contents of the glass.

There's a gasp as her eyes dilate, her pupils seemingly consuming the irises of her eyes. "Oh. Oh gosh..." She gestures upwards. "Except for the season changing... I did the night sky some justice in the fresco... It's beautiful."

Telamon nods. "We talk, through the link," he taps his temple, "and at night. We've endured worse. But I think we will both need a vacation once things are dealt with." His lips quirk, as Simony just... knocks it back. "Never by half measures, hm?" He can't help but grin. Sipping his wine, savoring it, before looking up. "Yes. I think... this recipe is a gift to all of us who admire the night sky."

"That being said, I think it's more... idealized. Sometimes the stars don't match the constellations we're used to. Perhaps it's the night sky from somewhere else. Regardless... it's comforting. Even on days like this, you can have a starry sky for a time."

The Goblin leans against Telamon, hugging at his arm. "I wouldn't like it alone, though. I already feel small enough. It is nice to see it though, and imagine worlds far away, and what they'd be like."

"I often forget that you have that link. And a vacation is a good idea. Maybe make a real baby to make up for it all." She giggles lightly at the idea. "Oh, right, a gift. How about we go see Cor'lana's next concert?"

Simony lets out a long sigh. "Or maybe it's the night sky as the fae see it, Telamon? Like how you and I can see in the dark, but differently? I am sure the night sky probably looks different to deep fae creatures."

"We're all small at some scale, Simony," Telamon says with aplomb. "The trick is to not let it get to you. Just be big enough to do what needs to be done. We're not gods, after all." He gives Simony a hug in return, and then pauses. And slaps his forehead. "I'm an oaf. I know a spell that would disguise me -- hells, both of us if needed -- and never have to worry. I've been beating myself up over something I can deal with."

He shakes his head. "I am clearly in need of a vacation," as he pours himself a second glass, and looks inquiringly to Simony. "But thank you. We'll have to do just that. I'm sure she'd be thrilled." At the question of fae and the night sky, he hmmms thoughtfully. "I... you know, that's a good question. I might have to ask Grandfather about that one."

"Oh, I am sure the ants all agree that I am a giant, but the stars tell me that not only am I small in stature, but small in mind. It is humbling on so many levels."

Simony offers up her glass for a refill. "And no, I don't do half measures, unless it is a matter of life or death, that requires some subtlety or other half measure."

Her giggle can be felt as she leans against him, and she shakes her head. "You hadn't thought of that? I thought that maybe you hadn't because what's-his-face would see through it, in that you would stick out, magically. Possibly." Her head shakes. "Here's the idea I had. I go round up your fan club, and meet you somewhere. You introduce yourself, ask for their help, and we hand out masks in your likeness. You use a bit of your magic to make the girls and ladies seem magical, so you don't stand out. Then we all go sit as a group in the concert hall."

She holds up a hand. "Orrrr, you and I go. Just like this, out in the open. It's a date. Obviously with Cor'lana's knowledge and permission. What's-his-face gets a little extra thrill seeing how far you've fallen, with a Goblin on your arm. Meanwhile, you're pulling the wool over his eyes, and get to see Lana singing, and she gets to see you there, admiring her. What do you think?"

Telamon refills Simony's glass. "I'd say you stand tall enough. Sometimes you -need- to be small -- harder target, if nothing else." He chuckles, but he nods. "That's a possibility. I don't know if he can pierce illusions. So I've been... hesitant to try and gull the fellow that way. He's so enthralled with his own twisted desires that it's easy to bait him with clever words and a good false-face."

He sits back, looking thoughtful. "Let's run it by Lana. I'm less worried about her opinion and more what that monster might pull. While he loves to mess with us, we're not the only people he's toyed with." His eyes twinkle. "But if we can get him to lower his guard further, well... so much the better."

She holds up her glass, "To the future." Her glass moves to gently tap his. While she drinks it more slowly this time, she once more does it all in one go. "Oh, you know how it goes, though. Hard to see the upsides, easier to see the downsides. About being so short. Or living half as long as everyone else. But we get all these ideas, you know?"

"I hope that you can gull him hard, Tel. For all the harm he's done, and as much as I don't wish ill on people... he deserves what's coming. I saw the depraved look in his eye, when I, and others, encountered him in that cave."

Her weight shifts a little more, Simony getting comfortable on his side. "And I'd like to meet Grandfather again. Mmm sure he'd appreciate thizz wineee, Telam.. Tela... Tel." There's a little bump on his arm, followed by a light snoring sound.

The Gobbo's fast asleep, almost folded in half over his arm.