A Plot Is Formed

The quiet inquiry had come not long after dawn prayers this morning, a gentle message from Seldan. _Is all well, brother?_

The response from Zeke, vi a the self-same cantrip Seldan had used, had been simple enough, and yet quite alarming. _Yes, taking care of a patient; please come at convenience, if not will see you soon._

Although Seldan's only response had been _I understand,_ he had in fact cut the connection and immediately gone for battle gear. The response told him of something sorely amiss, and without knowing its nature - and knowing that this would mean a trip into the city - he was not about to go unprepared.

Thus it is, when he strides into the Temple of the Draco Solis, he is fully arrayed for battle, as he might be on any work for the Guild or long travel, and is not bothering to conceal or play down his panoply. Full armor, unconcealed to reveal its quiescence in bright sunlight, over which is laid an open-front duster-style robe in blue and silver. Two cloaks are laid over that. His adventuring pack is on his back, along with Guiding Star, Reunion and a quiver of arrows on opposite hips.

He strides up to the nearest cleric and greets quietly, his gaze steady, even, and serious. "Brightest of days, Sunguard. I would speak with Sunguard Zeke, if he be free."

The cleric in question nods to his request, and walks off deeper into the temple. It seems that Zeke is not only in the temple, but his location is well-known amongst the clergy. The cleric is gone some time, and in fact does not return at all. Instead, the form of one particular blue-scaled sith-makar makes its way through the halls at a pace normally reserved for emergencies.

Zeke slows somewhat as he approaches Seldan, swishing his tail behind him once, but only once. He looks a bit tired, but it's less that he looks tired and more that there's a weight in his eyes. A sorrow set into his shoulders that no amount of seeing his kin can chase away in its entirety.

"Thisss one did not mean to bother you ssso sssoon Sseldan." There is light amusement in his tone, but it fades away very quickly into seriousness. "Thisss one would however ssshare wordsss with you - in privascy if you will follow thisss one?" He motions toward his own chambers in the temple.

Seldan does not bother to argue the point, and his steady, sober, even gaze does not divert for humor. "Lead on," is all he says, allowing Zeke to lead where he will. He asks no questions, says nothing, merely adjusts his pace to that of the sith-makar and walks with him, carefully staying clear of the tail. It's as if he's spent a lot of time walking with Zeke or something.

The blue-scale moves more quickly than he usually does, leading the way to his room. It's a tiny affair with a small bed, a stand, and one stool. Zeke motions toward the stool, indicating that it is free for Seldan to sit in if he chooses, but he does not want to, nor does he have a place to sit himself. Instead he stands near the bedside table and wraps his tail around himself. In sith language he is very concerned, upset even. "Thisss one isss tending a patient, and their injuriesss are... sssignificant. Thisss one would ssshare with you what thisss one hasss learned. Assss one who can heal, to one who can heal but alssso... Asss one who isss a healer to one who isss a warrior."

That's ominous. Instead of sitting, Seldan merely tucks his swordsman's gloves into his belt and offers both hands for Zeke to take or not as he will. This is something he has taken to doing ever since Salina, when he sees Zeke troubled or upset. It's a mute acknowledgement, and an offered anchor. "Tell me, Zeke," is all he says, the ice-blue eyes seeking Zeke's as if by so doing he can steady the man.

There is no hesitation in Zeke as he takes his kin's offered hands, but there is trouble in his throat, a rumble of barely-suppressed emotion. Sadness but also anger. Anger is not an emotion that comes over Zeke often, but it flashes through his green eyes like a wildfire and is there in his voice when he speaks. "Kol Demontry." He breathes the word, and there's a crackling sound in his mouth as it comes out, he takes a moment to breathe, to remind himself of calm before he begins again. "He took ssssome-one. He tortured them. Ssseldan... the thingsss that he did... they were not unlike what thisss one endured at the handsss of..."

He grasps Seldan's hands gently for stability. For now-ness. His eyes are dark things, full of sorrow, regret, and pain, but never far from anger either. "Worssse. In sssome waysss worsse kin. Thisss one would ssshare wordsss, ssshare knowledge. But you may never sspeak it to any but thisss one."

Something icy snaps in Seldan's pale blue eyes, something dangerous, at the name. And then the word _torture_ comes up. His eyes lower, as one who has been struck to his soul. That doesn't last long, though. He simply allows those hands to be held, as he has done so many times before. "My ears are yours, kin, and my lips are silent. Speak freely." _Tell me. Tell me everything. I am here._ He makes no effort to remove his hands, knowing full well that right now, they are Zeke's anchor, as they have been so many times before.

And so the words come forth. Zeke is a healer first and foremost, and he knows well how to list injuries and how to explain damage done. His voice is matter-of-fact and dry. His explanation that of one who has no emotion attached to the words. Yet when he finishes his tail lashes out behind him, almost hitting the bedside table and he lets his healer persona fade. Now there is only Zeke, with his kin and he _mourns_. Mourns the loss that this person - always unnamed - has endured.

Seldan does not interrupt Zeke as the litany continues. As he has done so many times before, he allows Zeke to say what he must without question or interruption, but by the end of it, the wildfire that raged in green lizard eyes has jumped the break into the form of the blackest of furious scowls across Seldan's usually even features. "You wish me to hunt Kol Demontry." That is not a question.

"Eluna bids me turn to a different service." His eyes lower, but still, his hands do not move, and he allows silence to fall for a moment. When he looks up, though, it is with purpose, and ice in his eyes. "No, kin. This much, I cannot turn my eyes from. Once before have I drawn him to his destruction. It shall be so a second time, and as many times as are needful to see him gone. This hunt shall I undertake."

There's no question, and Zeke is relieved when Seldan says 'yes'. He sags with it, he grasps Seldan's hands and there's such gratitude in him that he doesn't know how to express it save to embrace his kin. A thing done far more rarely than mere touching. "Thank you." He says quietly, gently, beside Seldan's ear.

"Thisss one knowss you bear many burdensss." He pulls away, looking at Seldan with hurt in his green eyes. "But thisss one can not let thisss sstand and yet... thisss one mussst attend to the patient firssst. You underssstand?" Clear in this is that if Zeke could, he would take up his own quarterstaff and hunt the vampire to the ends of the earth for what was done.

Surprised, Seldan returns the embrace, pulling the robed sith close against the armor plates he wears and holding him with strong arms for as long as necessary. When Zeke pulls away, the hands are once again offered, both together so that Zeke has all of the comfort he needs and wants. His eyes lower at the pain in those green eyes, but again, not for long.

It is hard to look at, though. It is hard to see that much pain, and in that moment, something snaps in him. "Do as you must, Zeke. Leave Kol to me. By Her holy path through the night sky, I will see this done." Only once before has Zeke ever heard him use that oath.

"One thing must I ask you. Know you where he might be found?" A more practical question, but spoken with no less passion. "Or know any that may know?"

Zeke considers the question for a long moment, needing to quiet the riot of emotions in himself before he can think properly. This is important. "There isss the Mourner Verna. Ssshe went to hisss... nessst." Zeke hesitates to call a vampire's lair a 'nest'. To imagine such a place as a home, goes against his very nature. Nests are safe. To be protected. This? This place was abomination. "Thisss one thinksss. They ssspoke of ressscuing thisss individual from him, it ssseemed there were many? Thisss one would begin with the Mourner."

"If sshe does not, asssk the Sssunguard Andelena. You may assk for her here, but sshe hass many dutiesss and may not be available to aid you asss you need for a time." Zeke says nothing more on the matter, does not even remotely suggest that Andelena is connected to his patient.

"I will seek out Mourner Verna." Seldan has no hesitation there. "I know where she and Auranar are to be found, and she will have the knowledge that I seek. The fire is out in the shelter, and I have set all to rights, that we may both be missing for a time without fear." The ice is still there, but the paladin makes no effort to conceal his own pain at seeing Zeke so distraught. "The Sunguard may seek me out, does she desire to do so, but this is a matter of magic. I seek a thing connected to Kol, or to the place where he lives."

Zeke is sensitive to the fact that his own upset has caused pain to his kin. This is the nature of kinship to a degree however. The sith takes Seldan's hands again, offering reassurance in his own presence. He knows that he will be well, and he clearly feels better having told these things to Seldan. To have unburdened himself. It is not perfect, but it is a beginning. Seldan's words bring a hum to Zeke's throat. "Would an object that hasss been there sssuffice?"

Seeing that release does help to ease Seldan's own worries and concerns, and after a long look at Zeke, he draws a deep breath, and when he releases it, the pain is gone, replaced by that steady and even countenance that the world usually sees. "It would. Better if it is one that Kol owns. Perhaps if something was taken from him in the rescue -" He trails off. "I doubt the Mourner did any such thing."

Zeke shifts, removing his claws and pulling a long thin knife from his vestments. There are very faint bloodstains on it, but it is clear that it has been quickly cleaned off. "Thisss belonged to him." He does not need to say where it came from. Seldan already knows. Zeke offers it to Seldan. "Will thisss work? Thisss one had not had a chanssse to... dissssposse of them yet."

GAME: Seldan rolls will: (19)+32: 51

Seldan draws a deep breath, the look of the impassive alabaster pillar that Zeke has seen so many times coming over him as he reaches to take it. He turns it over, still with that impassive demeanor, studying it, then with a swift sigil drawn over it and a gesture of the hand, cleans the remaining blood from the knife. It leaves a gleaming, ring-tipped, evil-looking thing with excellent balance behind, in Seldan's hand. "Keep these safe, kin," he says slowly. "I - know not how much they will help us find him - but it is better than having naught at all to guide our steps." He pulls from a belt pouch a rag such as might be used to clean a blade, and carefully wraps the knife in the cloth.

Zeke nods. "Thisss one will keep the othersss for sssafe-keeping." He watches the one that Seldan took from him until it is folded away and then returns his attention to his kin. "Thisss one mussst eat and return to thisss onesss patient. Their condition isss no longer critical, but they are not well yet either."

Once the knife is safely tucked away, Seldan similarly returns his attention to his kin and nods slowly, still steady. "I am here for you, but I begin my hunt as soon as I depart. I shall check in from time to time. Do as you must." Seldan has skill has a healer enough, but has never displayed a calling for or interest in doing so beyond what he must. "Her light upon your path, Zeke."

"Thisss one undersstandsss, and would have you hunting all the sssooner." Zeke bows his head to Seldan. "Besssingsss of the Dragonfather upon you and your hunt kin." There's a flash in his eyes that says everything. That he would be hunting himself if not for his duty. Some days, duty is heavier than a mountain.

-End