Getting to Know You

Verna does, or did, as she stated in regards to the dungeon's latest guest; namely that she be treated as much as a guest as possible. The bit of additional or replacement furnishings may not be the embroidered overstuffed finery as sits in the nobility district, but they are a far step above rusty pails, straw mats and the like.

Arrangements for visitors may or may not be to their preference, mostly in the fact that there is no visitor's space for them to encamp within the gaol. Such aspects were not really part of the planned design. Instead, Verna appropriated a nearby rarely-used meeting space-turned-storage and cleaned it out to serve as a waiting or meeting area with focused context, welcome and open to Seldan, Malik, and those others they choose to designate. It is here that she currently sits and reads.

Verna has not yet seen Malik in this space, but Seldan strides through the door somewhere around midmorning, making no effort this time to hide the fact that he is fully armed and armored. He moves with deadly purpose, his entire bearing set, but as he sees Verna, he pauses, and draws the door closed behind him, softening somewhat. "Mourner," he greets politely, and with a small bow. "You have my gratitude for all of your help," he begins. His eyes drift downward, just briefly, then back up to search for hers. "It is in my mind that I owe you something of an explanation."

Verna glances over as another enters, dipping her head respectfully in return of his greeting. "Good morn, Silverguard." She sets her reading materials aside to give him her undivided attention. "You are most welcome, though I have doubts as to how useful my aid truly was. It is true that the events raised questions, but I presumed that you would share, or have, any information vital to remedy the situation. The remainder is at your discretion."

"Not so, I fear. There is much of the Endless Winter's workings that we do not yet fully understand." Seldan sinks into an armless chair at the other side of the table from Verna, his entire bearing set, focused, and tense. This is a man on the warpath, but his expression as he watches her says that it is not aimed at her. "Ask me your questions. I shall tell you what I know, and what I do not yet know."

Verna considers a moment. "She is afflicted, and yet I presume that this is an atypical instance? So far as I am aware, those who fall ill rise again from the affliction, but are merely ill beforehand. You spoke of Kol, but he was truly unliving. Was he spawned from this affliction as well, or was it additional?"

Seldan pushes a lock of hair from his eyes, considering the question. "Additional, I think. Were I to guess at her methods, I would say that the Endless Winter has placed some of Kol's essence into that plague ooze, and kept the connection alive by infecting her, and possibly others, with it. A cruel trick, indeed, and a form of revenge for Kol's death, although I know not if she truly understands vengeance, or hatred."

Verna nods. "It could be spite, or simply efficiency to retain a useful tool. I hope that this evolution is unique or of greatly limited scope. It would not do well for her to suddenly acquire a city full of vampiric minions."

Immediately, Seldan shakes his head. "I mean to see to it that such does not occur again." There's a deadly purpose that edges perilously close to anger in the edge beneath his tone. "I move on her, as soon as we have gathered arms, for I dare not wait to see what else she will do. She commands a Duke of the Hells, to do her bidding. She seeks out and steals our loved ones, to torture without mercy. She is capable of anything, Mourner, and I shall not leave her captives to suffer another day more than I must. Laying a trap, to lure her outside the tower, as I had intended, will not avail us. She will but send the demon in her stead. No, we must walk open-eyed into her trap, and turn it upon her. It will be a dangerous undertaking, and I have no illusions that all will return." He lowers his eyes and sighs heavily, as one bearing a burden, but looks up again. "There lies within the tower a teleportation circle, that may be used to travel time as well as space. I would have us free her captives, if we can, and then venture back in time, to where she is younger, and not yet ready for us. I know not if that is possible, but I shall try."

"Even so." Seldan nods his agreement. "We will not find the tower, if she does not will it ... but it is in my mind that showing her a thing she wishes to have may induce her to will it." Steel sits just under the level and composed words. "To my sorrow, we showed her yestereven a thing that she will wish to have. I could strangle Mal for telling Mother of us, and I was unaware that we were full promised..." Color rises to his cheeks.

"If he believes so, and you believe so," Verna notes, "the remainder is formality and documentation... and coordinateed celebration, perhaps. If you believe that her interest is great enough to allow us to reach her, that is a great boon. That she is interested at all is already a risk. It would be wise to make use of it."

To this point, Seldan has been confident, purposeful, self-assured. If he is tense, well, that is to be expected. Now, though, his eyes remain lowered, and the fair skin remains a very interesting shade of pink. Oh, look, there's a very detailed whorl in the wood of the table between them. It's quite pretty. He carefully says nothing on the matter of the other, instead murmuring, "What is done is done, and I would do well now to make use of it."

Verna does not seems concerned of his change in skin tone, whether this is bane or boon from his perspective. "Indeed. I stand ready, and expect many others do so or shall, to move against her and her tower."

"In the interim, you should rest as you are able," Verna suggests. "You could speak with her, now that you are able to with some security. Him, as well, now that they both remain under protection." A pause to consider means to make the best of the situation. "Perhaps they could be co-located, or nearly so, that they might converse to more comfortably pass the time? I imagine they may have a great deal to discuss."

Seldan looks up, some of the color fading. He pushes that lock of hair from his eyes again, nodding. "I have many tasks to see to, but I shall make as much time as I may for the both of them. Come to that ... how comes the ring of spell knowledge? I trust that all is well? It is not my wish to press you, and yet is it in my mind that I shall have need of it."

"It progresses as expected," Verna assures him. "I presumed that you might prefer it completed with all available haste. I brought the work in progress and my materials here, that I might continue between other responsibilities."

Seldan simply nods to that. "I had not thought time to be of the essence previously, but now that we move with all haste, I am grateful for your foresight." He leans forward, elbows on the table. "What else would you know of me? The matter is a complex one, and I am certain you have many questions."

Verna arches one brow. "What would you wish to share? While current events have plagued you and your relations and placed them more into view as a consequence, I have no need to pry unbidden into your personal matters." There is a pause, then a further, thoughtful one, before she adds, "That is not to say that you are not of interest."

Seldan chuckles, the smile that accompanies it real enough and lighting his eyes. "I daresay that I am of great interest to many." A mild observation, and yet colored with a wry tone. "You have seen but a glimpse, within Cryosanthia's memories, of the evils she commits. Is it in your mind to venture with us in search of her tower?"

"It is," Verna nods, "and I expect that it is in the minds of many others, as well. I do not oft converse with many not peers or students here, or within the temple... but nearly all whom I have, as of late, bear a personal mark of the atrocities she or her minions commit. Cryosanthia, Faranmidahn, Auranar, Malik, yourself, your mother... and that is a pittance of the city at large. I doubt any feel it can be ignored, no matter the risk."

She pauses to rub a gloved hand at her face. "The plague's presence appears to even influence -my- mother, which is no small accomplishment." "Some more than others," Seldan agrees quietly. "There can be no doubt that her evil has touched all within this city, and many more besides. I have given my sworn word that I shall see her thrown down, or perish in the attempt. As for Eclavdran ... he, too, must be thrown from this plane, though I am not fool enough to think him easily conquered with swords upon any plane. Is it possible to banish him instead?"

"Banished, certainly," Verna nods, "though such measures would be temporary. I presume that he can cross planes as readily as a step across the ground, so is not restricted in movement nor action."

"By temporary," Seldan asks slowly, drawing the question out, "what mean you? Will he return in a matter of moments? Hours? Days? I am no expert in the ways of demons," he remarks, a touch ruefully. "By banishing him, might we gain a respite, however brief?"

Seldan listens, leaning back a little in his chair. "Think you that he could be banished for such a time as to prevent Salina from summoning him when we move on the tower?"

Verna considers, finger tapping at her chin. "To banish him, we would need to locate him, or bring him to us... However, were we able to bring him to us, there are means to entrap him. Not permanently, but perhaps long enough that he could give no aid to Salina at the tower, if timed well."

Seldan sits up a little, his pose of relaxed interest fading into quiet tension, and his words likewise come out quieter. "Would you learn more of how Eclavdran is bound ... I would speak to Malik. None know more of the summoning circle beneath the city than he does." There's ... concern? there.

(The pair head down into the dungeons to find Malik.)

Seldan leads Verna through the guards' checkpoint, which bids them both divest of all magical items, weapons, and armor. This takes Seldan a while, and leaves him in nothing but shirt, trousers, his old serviceable boots, and his holy symbols. He chats and jokes amiably with the guards as he does so, getting no small amount of good-natured ribbing over visiting his boyfriend. The ribbing leaves him colored more than a little, but when he is done divesting himself, and Verna is as well, he follows the guard past the archway and down into the dungeons.

Malik has, at least, been making the most of his time. There are piles of books in the cells -- probably not of the greatest quality, given the man's reputation, but what he could convince someone to bring him given what little status he might have among some of the Transmuters. But those have been abandoned for the moment. For now, he holds a long, thin sword (with a lead ball on the tip and blunted edges), working on sparring with one of the practice dummies that the guards have in a corner.

For a spellcaster, it's clear that he has no small amount of martial training, and even robbed of his magic is a deadly opponent. More and more a divergence from the pure arcanists.

Verna has few weapons and no armor. Conveniently, the bulk of her enchanted possessions are in various bags, all of which are in her satchel, to the majority of her divestment is simple. The remainder is more involved, but easily accomplished. She follows Seldan within with a nod to the guards, and does not partake of any ribbing.

When they arrive, the guard withdraws, but not very far, taking up a stance at the end of the hall and well within sight and earshot. To get here, they passed through a number of cells, some empty, some not, some of which emanate mad whispers or hands reaching towards the hems of robes, but Seldan ignored them all, seeming quite used to the whole thing. How many times has he been down here?

When they arrive, he He peers first into the cells around, but Carissa is soundly asleep, possibly for the first time in months. The bed is not ideal, but there are blankets, and she is safe, warm, fed, and has no whispers in her head. Small wonder, then, that she sleeps like a dead thing. Not wishing to disturb her, Seldan turns away to watch Malik instead. "You have improved."

Malik takes one final jab at the dummy, turning as he hears Seldan's voice, setting the blunted practice sword off to the side. "Not enough," he sighs, though he offers the paladin a warm grin, offering a polite nod of greeting to Verna when he sees her as well. "Mourner."

Turning, he reaches for a towel, wiping himself down with yesterday's shirt, those intricate tattoos that run along his neck like a mantle on full display. "Ironic," he says. "I always thought that practice would keep me from spending any time in this place." He glances around at the stone, the smile fading just a bit as something else creeps into his eyes. "Strange that I now find myself practicing here because it's safer than anywhere else."

Verna pays little mind to the estranged or deranged as they past, though she is not a frequent visitor. Malik's nod is returned. "Good day. I cannot offer opinion on your improvement, though your skills certainly appear more advanced than most on these grounds. In any case, it is good that you can occupy yourself."

"That was before you had fae and archdemons chasing you," Seldan points out, returning the warm grin, but keeping his voice down out of deference to the sleeping. "The state of affairs we now face will swiftly change a man's mind, will it not?" He looks around at the other cells around them, noting occupancy or lack thereof, before leaning against the cold stone, nethicite-set wall, eyes very much on Malik. "I shall not have you down here long," he promises.

"A necessary evil," Malik counters, though his tone is playful enough. He moves to Seldan's side, leaning in to kiss the man's cheek lightly before moving past, looking in Carissa's window. "She's been sleeping most of the day," he tells Seldan. "I think that a good thing. She's at least trying to recover." And then, back to Verna, that smile brightens a bit. "Most of us strive for excellence for the sake of excellence. I didn't have that sort of luxury," he explains. "When it becomes a matter of daily survival, you might be surprised how quickly you can hone a skill."

"I agree with you both on your respective points," Verna concurs that Malik shall not be here longer than is necessary and that it is a necessary inconvenience. "You are both guests for the duration, so inform me if you feel that you are treated otherwise."

"The situation is not unknown to the guards," Seldan remarks, smiling up at Malik at the kiss on the cheek. "You are not the first to seek refuge here from being magically hunted." He frowns suddenly, as if remembering something, but dismisses it, peering into Carissa's cell, eyes dark and concerned. "Good. When we return, we must delve further into this mystery. Perhaps we will find something among Salina's notes that may aid us." He hesitates, then looks up at Malik. "Mal, I know that we oft teleport to our home ... but it is in my mind that permitting ourselves to do so permits others to do so as well. I am greatly skilled at making enemies, and would not see you hurt."

Malik laughs at Verna's comment, though there's the barest touch of bitter undertone there. "I think that plenty of your fellows have wanted to see me here for long enough," he tells her. "The fact that I'm allowed outside the door is, at least, a small blessing, that I think I have you to thank for. I won't forget that kindness." And then, back to Seldan, a moment's consideration. "You propose a measure of safety at the cost of a small sacrifice on our part, then?" He nods his assent at that, easily. "You'll have what resources you need, though I fear you'll need to get my bag from the guards."

"Mal, I mean to secure the house ere we go, and bring your gear to you. I know not how long we will be gone." Seldan leaves the rest of that unspoken. "That is indeed what I propose. Our space is in need of magical protections, if we are to continue raising the ire of the likes of that which we now face." He smiles very faintly. "Defenses against scrying may also be desirable."

Malik nods his understanding once more. "I suppose a minor inconvenience is worth a bit of safety. Though the magic you're speaking of isn't my area of specialty. I think that with some assistance we could work out something suitable." And then, to Verna, "Perhaps the Mourner has some ideas on that. We could talk over dinner, if you're free? I think the guards should be bringing the evening meal soon."