Even at Odds

Summer is only just beginning to fade into fall and Alexandria, and the day still bids to be warm and fair. The majority of the usual occupants of the Temple are out and about on other tasks, and only the Seers that stay by the pools are here, quiet in their white and silver robes and cloaks. There aren't even any petitioners right now. About the only person other than the clergy and guards here in the Temple is Seldan, and he appears to be just leaving, a satchel over his shoulder.

Malik is at the temple today, taking a more meditative path this afternoon. He sits on one of the rugs, dressed in light, comfortable clothes as he sits on one of the rugs near the reflecting pool. There's a scroll in front of him -- not a magical one, by the looks of it, but one of the scrolls that the temple keeps, recorded dreams that those of the faith might meditate upon to gain insights into the true nature of the world. From the looks of this one, for those that have read them before, it's a story about losing someone you never knew to something dark, but still feel the loss deeply upon waking. Malik's vision flits between the words and the pool, as if trying to re-create the description of the dream in his mind. But the sight of Seldan leaving snaps him out of his reverie, causing him to gather up the scroll as he quickly pulls his boots back on, running up to the man's side as he hands the scroll off to one of the attendant priests. "Hi," he greets the paladin warmly. "Feeling any better?"

Erendriel is back doing work. Learning those wonderful tasks such as disabling traps, picking locks, and what have you. Nothing Seldan ever need concern himself with. But that training done, Erendriel has a mage hand up, twirling a key slowly, as she comes out of a private area on the Elunite temple grounds. "Hi!" she says approaching the pair once again, despite the inherent dangers.

Surprised at being greeted, Seldan looks back and forth between the pair, his own smile warm and genuine and meant for both of them. "Her blessings on you both. Much better, and my thanks. A good night's rest saw me aright." He does indeed look as if he's moving well. He says nothing of the key in Erendriel's hand, apparently thinking nothing of it. "I should return your book, although I do not have it on me. I ... have learned much."

Malik offers an easy shrug. "No rush." He watches as Erendriel approaches, a bit more cautious than Seldan -- especially as he sees that key moving on its own through the air -- but offers a polite smile and a friendly nod. "Hello." Turning back to Seldan, he raises an eyebrow, asking, "So it helped?" Malik's smile resumes at that. "What'd you learn? Are you distant royalty?" Because that's what Malik assumed the book was about, anyway, the 'Children of the Gods' of the elven some manner of euphemism for kings, given the genealogies.

Erendriel does keep just enough focus on the mage hand to keep it manipulating the key. It's not the best manipulation, but it's practice. "So Seldan," she starts, hearing where the conversation is going. "Did you come to a conclusion on what I read you? Who is Eonora Padaryn?" She then gives an extra wave with a REAL hand to Malik.

Seldan's eyes lower, just a little, but amusement tickles his expression. "My seven-times-great grandmother on Father's side. Perhaps it is more, but it was long ago. She ... was a servant of the Trickster. There are many conflicting tales surrounding her, and perhaps half of them were believable. I do not doubt that she was quite the personality, and she is but one within my family who served the Crown, the gods, or both, and did not serve the Sunlord directly." He looks up, flipping that errant lock of hair from his face. "Father was wrong," he states. "Our family did not always serve the Sunlord, and not all of them were as righteous as told."

Malik looks confused for a moment as Seldan goes through his explanation, especially the parts about his ancestors serving various gods. But the last part? The last part seems to strike a chord with the wizard. He crosses his arms, a more serious expression coming over his face, but there's no mistaking the pleased look there. "Good," he tells the man, offering a supportive nod. Turning back to Erendriel, he offers, "Thanks for helping him. My Sildanyari is rusty even when it's not hundreds of years old."

Erendriel grins to Malik. "You're welcome, both of you. I um, well like, in Sendor I didn't get to use it much, but we used both languages at home, so like, no problem." Then turning to Seldan she giggles "Oh so you were right! You did get your powers from the gods, just... not the way you thought. It's part of you."

"Yes ... but no matter how I came by them, they are still Her gift." Some of Seldan's smile fades a little. "And ... they are mostly likely not of evil. I suspected as much, but it is reassuring to know. It is too easy to use magic for evil ends, unwittingly. There are those within my own family who are not immune, though I think that I will not speak of that to Father and Mother." The smile fades entirely. "But ... there is much to be learned from those who came before, and I am not so strange or in error as Father thinks." He pauses a moment. "Knowing who I am and where I come from, and all that has come before ... I would stand among them, and be a credit to them."

"You're no evil aberration," Malik says, looking a bit incredulous as he shakes his head. "Not by a long shot. I've seen those," he assures the paladin. "You're not within a thousand leagues of them. But you're right," he agrees. "Magic can be dangerous, and can be used for destructive purposes by those who don't know what it's capable of when it goes wrong." A bit of a side-glance to Erendriel there, though not a direct accusation. He reaches out a hand, putting in on Seldan's shoulder. "But if you want to learn more about your family, and your history? I'd be happy to help. Tsurans teach most of their lessons through stories about the past, and about what those who came before us did. I can help you figure out where to look for the hidden meanings."

Erendriel uses the Mage Hand to take the key between two fingers, and very slowly begins to twirl in that way. Very slowly and awkwardly, but it does happen. Meanwhile she giggles. "You know, you're right. You use magic wrong and..." She lifts her real hand, points outside the foyer to the ground, and zaps. "Bam, fireball to the face."

Two of the heads of the clergy by the pool snap up at the zap, and one stands, but it is Seldan who speaks first. "Erendriel, do not do that here. It will be taken as disrespectful. Let us go outside, if you wish to practice your aim." He nods to Malik. "I would like that, and my thanks." He nods to the door, indicating that they should come with him.

Malik frowns a bit at the spell, but manages to keep his temper this time. He's come to expect such things, it seems -- even though he clearly still doesn't approve. It's more a long-suffering annoyance than anger this time, though. He nods at Seldan's suggestion, following the paladin toward the door. "I think I've got a few more books, somewhere," the wizard tells him, looking back over his shoulder at the faces of the annoyed clergy as he reaches into a pocket, dropping a few silver pieces into the offering bowl on his way out. Just in case. Though he does look to Erendriel, saying, "If you light anything of mine on fire, you can be sure you're paying for a new one."

Erendriel looks at Seldan. "Practicing? Do you... do you think I need practice? I've had some good aim lately. I was really hitting those owl bears..." But she'll follow on outside. "I didn't set anything on fire though? I just hit a rock outside on the ground?"

"That is not the problem." Seldan walks outside with the others into the bright noon sunshine, and makes sure the door closes behind him. "Eluna teaches that magic is a sacred gift, not to be used lightly or abused for evil purposes. She asks her faithful to safeguard it and stop those who would abuse it. Your use of the mage's hand may be interpreted as practice, and practice is no crime. The ray is nothing more than showing off, and it will be taken as disrespectful of Her gifts. Doing so in Her temple outright flouts Her teachings. Do you understand?"

Malik nods to Seldan. "Even outside of her temple, there are those who have encountered magic and still bear the scars," he says, a bit more practical than philosophical. "That spell is most often used as a weapon. A powerful one. We look down on those drunken idiots who start swinging a sword in a tavern, or a public square, just for the sake of doing it. How much more frightening do you think magic is to those who have no defense against it?"

Erendriel looks to each of them. "It's not that powerful. And this is what I was talking about the other day. I never got trouble about magic before coming here. I don't think I'm being disrespectful either. Most people can't do this. I can. I think it's... natural and appropriate to celebrate it."

Seldan folds his arms. "Showing off." He nods to Malik. "A fine point. It truly is like swinging a sword in a public square. As to whether it is disrespectful, it does not matter if you think it is, or no. They will see it as disrespectful."

Malik listens to her words, reaching up to rub the side of his face a bit, though he's keeping his temper in check, his voice level. "Have you considered," he starts, "that maybe the reason that they haven't said anything to you is because they were afraid you would use that power on -them-?" He pauses for a second before continuing. "Silence from fear is much more common than silence from tolerance. It's dangerous to mistake inaction with acceptance."

Erendriel shakes her head. "I really don't think I agree, Seldan. I just don't see how it's any more disrespectful than say, fireworks. I'm from a small village in Sendor, Malik. It's not like this place, where everyone mistrusts everyone else."

Erendriel comes with Seldan outside. In front of her is a mage hand she keeps one eye on, slowly, awkwardly twirling a key between two fingers. "So anyway that's why I think we can all respect Eluna's principles in our own ways, and I can respect if you disagree with me on that. I'm used to it since moving here." She giggles.

Seldan is silent as he exits the temple, letting Erendriel talk, his expression serious as he ensures that the doors to Eluna's Temple are closed behind him. He has a satchel over his shoulder, but all he says is, "Do as you will, Erendriel. Heed my words, or do not. It is for you to decide."

In the town square things are quite busy. It's still the middle of the day and there are plenty of people about running their errands. The wind has picked up but the day is lovely just the same. As the group comes out of the temple there is a man dressed in dark clothes using the steps to get around a particularly large pack of scholars. The raven set upon his shoulder eyes everyone with keen intelegence as the man himself makes his way around the scholars. Suddenly as the group of Seldan, Erendriel, and Malik comes into view the raven gives a loud caw and the man comes to a stop mere feet away from them.

"Mmmm?" He mutters the sound distractedly and the raven flys the slort distance over to the group, fluttering overhead until Karasu joins them and then lands on Karasu's shoulder once he has come close enough for the raven's liking. Karasu bows politely to everyone. "Greetings again. And to you whom I have not met." This last to Malik.

Malik follows the others out of the temple, slinging his satchel a bit further to the side. He's walkng next to the other two, watching the magic with the sort of longsuffering gaze of someone tolerating an irritation, but isn't currently saying anything about it, other than, "I still advise caution. But if you're determined to proceed, then I suppose that's your decision." He turns to look at Seldan, adding, "Has the family name always been Padaryn? You know how often these things can change. I bet we can find find a lot more at --" But then there's a stranger in front of him, causing him to lose his train of thought at the greeting. "Oh. Hello," he greets, offering a pleasant smile and a nod, though not the formal bow of the new person.

Erendriel nods to the others, the conversation dropping about her use of magic. Then seeing Karasu, she bites her lip, and looks sharply. Not at Karasu, but at the raven. "Hello," she says flatly.

Seldan is about to answer Malik when Karasu approaches. "It likely has not," he agrees. "Good day, sir," he adds to Karasu. "What brings you this way today?" Erendriel he does not reply to.

"I am on my way to the temple of Vardama." The dark-haired man responds, seemingly unaware and yet totally aware of Erendriel's discomfort with his raven. The raven itself seems somehow aware of it as well, staring into her eyes unblinkingly. "What about you three? It seems to me that you were having a conversation before I arrived, I hope I did not interrupt."

Malik shakes his head. "No," he tells the stranger. "Not interrupting at all." From the way it was going, it might be better than the conversation was put to bed early. He glances between the other two, looking like he's not really sure what to say, though his eyes are eventually drawn to the bird staring at Erendriel, raising an eyebrow. "Seems you guys have met," he notes to nobody in particular.

Erendriel breaks eye contact with the raven to look to Malik. "We have. This is a popular place to go." she says, putting on a big smile. She then takes the key from her Mage Hand, goes into her pack, and replaces it with a small, weirdly shaped piece of metal. The hand grips it, and starts trying to do slow, and again awkward, manipulations. "Hopefully everyone is doing well. Hungry?" she asks in a very chipper voice.

GAME: Erendriel rolls bluff: (1)+24: 25 (EPIC FAIL)

Seldan levels a -look- at Erendriel, but turns his attention to Malik instead, calmly ignoring the bird. "Where did you think we might find more information? I am certain that there are other names to find. It is not a pressing matter, so much, now that I know the truth..."

Karasu nods to Malik. "Indeed we have." He says nothing more on the matter, but something flickers through his dark eyes and then he casually pulls a piece of copper out of his pocket. The copper glints in the sunlight and Karasu rolls it over his knuckles with the ease of long practice. The copper piece rolls back and forth and then with a little flick it flies up and Karasu catches it. The crow never moves, and Karasu offers the copper piece to Erendriel. "If you are looking to practice your dexterity, I might suggest this simple trick." His dark eyes flicker to the 'oddly' shaped piece of metal that the hand is toying with and then back to Erendriel again.

Malik's gaze on the bird is broken at Seldan's question, causing the wizard to blink once. "Oh," he says. "The book. I borrowed it from a friend of mine. Something of a historian," he tells the man. "Except that he's more into obscure histories. But he's the one that showed me the book," Malik says. "I bet that he's got something else in there. If we go and ask him, let him know what we're looking for, he might be willing to part with more information." He casts another glance at the other two, but apparently they have their own thing going on, and he doesn't look like he's eager to get in the middle of it.

Erendriel looks at Seldan, and shrugs with a smile. Then to Karasu, she looks, leaning over to take the copper piece, and looking at it. "Thank you. This could be useful for um, practicing trap work." The mage hand keeps doing lockpicking exercises though, at least the very fundamentals of how to do such delicate work with a Mage Hand.

"I should like to find him, if you have the time to spare." Seldan is still giving Erendriel that -look-, a look that is politely described as disapproving, but it's Malik that he answers.

"That is not what you are practicing. You are practicing lock-picking." Karasu points this out simply, her lie exposed with a few simple words. He does not seem troubled by this revelation which is not really one for him. He had of course recognized the simple practice movements right away. The raven on his shoulder crows loudly as if agreeing with him.

Malik offers an easy nod. "Of course," he agrees easily. "I'm as curious as you are, now. But if we're getting there tonight, we should leave soon," he explains. "Don't think that either of us wants to be in the woods after dark, and it's a bit of a walk. Lunch, and then we can grab our stuff?" He glances over at the other two again, eyebrow raising at the accusation of lockpicking, but doesn't have anything to add to -that- particular argument in the making, either, other than, "Huh." As if it may have just occurred to him.

"I have nothing to fear from the night." Seldan's smile is genuine and easy, and he pushes a lock of hair out of his face. The smile, though, vanishes at the accusation of lockpicking. "I had suspected. Remember our deal." That is all he says before turning back to Malik. "It lies outside the city gates, then? We should take our gear, but lunch sounds excellent. "If you will both forgive us." He turns to go.

-End