The Strength To Affect The World

Alexandria, nobility district, midday

With a light, leather cloak over her clerical robes, Simony has paused on a busy street to stare upward. The aerodrome's structure, and the airships themselves, has captured something quintessentially Goblin in her, and she is completely enthralled. The splendor of the Castle district is now totally lost on her, for it pales in comparison to the machinery and majesty of the airships.

Several people are able to avoid bowling the Goblin over only due to the stature of her taller companion, the recently-bumped-into Telamon. The Goblin blinks, and she peers up at the Half-Sil, her ears tinging a light pink. "Erm, where did you say we were going, Telamon? Checking out the home renovations?"

"In a little bit. I have to swing by my tailor first, and settle up. He's got some things for myself and for Lana, since we had to replace some of our clothes." Telamon is dressed for the district, his light blue cotton tunic over white trousers and soft shoes all finely made. Hair combed and held back with his circlet, the sorcerer walks along helping clear a path for his shorter companion.

"I know this isn't exactly your stomping grounds, but it's good to learn a little about the city's districts. And sometimes the nobility are just as in need of adventurers as anyone else." Indeed, Simony is catching a few suspicious stares, but nobody says anything with Tel there.

The Goblin side-eyes a few of the people with suspicious stares. "Hmm, I get the feeling that some here might do the same and try hanging out in the temple district." She looks up at Telamon, "Present company excluded, of course." Simony giggles lightly, fussing with her hair to keep it from flopping into her face.

"A tailor? Fancy! Er, how did you come to lose your clothes? Something damaged them, or has some cheeky thief absconded with them?"

Telamon makes a face. "No. When Lana and I rescued Micha, Seraquoix... took offense. He couldn't catch us, so he... well, wrecked our house in the university district. Made a hell of a mess -- hence why we're staying with our sisters at the moment over on the mountain road. But one of the casualties was our wardrobe."

Tel snorts. "Petty, contemptible little man. Still, Lana and I have done well with our adventuring, and it's easier to replace clothes than people. So we're rebuilding that, just like the house, and soon things will be -- well, relatively normal again."

Simony just stares at Telamon for several long moments.

"Tel, you've been getting these renovations done for a little bit now, and not once have you mentioned why... unless this was at a different house? But why would that man do that? What's the point?"

She huffs, crossing her arms. "You say when and I'll apply a hammer to his knees. Any time! Call it for services rendered."

The Gobbo snorts. "Is it weird that we can remember a time when normal was actually normal?"

"They're almost done. Once they're finished, I'm going to talk with Lana, and Verna and Aura, and see what they think." Telamon scratches his chin, as the two walk down the street. "We may want to wait on moving back in until after we've disposed of Seraquoix -- which is going to happen, sooner than that bastard thinks." His eyes glitter. "No, this is the same house. I took the opportunity to have some additions made. A small wine cellar, an attic for storing things. Blending the architecture a little better. It'll be like a whole new home."

He smiles down at Simony, not condescendingly. "I know you would. And that's what makes you a good friend. I'm happy and proud to know you." The path they take leads to a neat, well-to-do shopfront, a sign out front proclaiming this to be 'Jovani's Fine Garments'. Underneath that sign is another that depicts a wine goblet over a sword.

Simony reaches for his hand, hugging it momentarily. "Aw, I am honoured to know you. And the offer stands. I'm getting quite good with Spider Masher. Going to have it enchanted a bit, and maybe have a few alchemical processes done. A few critters and ne'er-do-wells will learn to fear it. And me." She puffs up a little.

"But... I guess that you deal with far more dangerous beings. I mean, I couldn't even look at that demon remnant without trying to run off. Once more, my everlasting thanks for being there, and acting quickly." Her smile is both fond and shy. "You can do that thing with your eyes any time." The Goblin laughs then, before looking at the sign on the shopfront. "Hrm."

The Gobbo glances up at Tel once more. "I would guess that it's also a wine store and armaments, but uhm... probably something more like... Shining Chalice members get a discount?"

Telamon nods. "Always play to your strengths, and never be afraid to spend some cash for tools and weapons. I'd rather be alive and have light pockets rather than dead with gold in them."

He sighs. "Honestly, Simony, -nobody- expected to find that thing down there. If Sir Seldan or I had known it was there we wouldn't have brought you or Magpie or even Hark. That's the kind of foe you expunge with maximum force." A pause, thoughtful. "When Sir Seldan and I go back down, I might see if Aryia wants to come along. She loves a challenge."

"But to answer your question, yes -- sort of. Jovani shares the building with a gentleman known as the Vintner. The Vintner... trained my father. He is an expert wine connoisseur... as well as a master of arms." His eyes twinkle. "He gives excellent advice on both subjects."

With that, they step inside, the bell above the door tinkling. Mannequins stand in various poses, showing off garments from the gauzy and daring to the stout and durable. Behind the counter is a young man, perhaps twelve, with dark hair and a broad, engaging smile.

She nods to his statement of playing to strengths, "There is something people maybe not know, or has been forgotten over time. Navos has a strong tie, haha, to strength. Not just strength of knowledge, but feats of strength. I was a monk first, before becoming a Temperance."

Simony rubs her cheeks thoughtfully. "It's okay, honestly. I mean, we can't beat our fears if we do not face them. And we.. I.. know a little more of what those things are capable. Any time you can learn, and not die, is a good thing."

Her expression grows puzzled for a few moments. "The subterfuge is starting to get a bit thick, isn't it?" Simony giggles a moment, before the bell gets her attention. Then the young man behind the counter. Her grin becomes broad, matching the young man's, except pointier."

"You have to have strength to affect the world, even if all you want is to study it," Telamon agrees, as the mismatched pair approach the counter. The boy lights up, and he greets them with a happy hop off the stool he was seated on, coming around. He's four feet and change tall, but clearly growing fast. "Greetings, signor Telamon, and signora! I am Marco, signor Jovani's apprentice." He bows deeply to Simony, before straightening and shaking hands with Tel.

"You are here for the clothes, yes? I shall request signor Jovani that you have arrived. He is with another customer and should be done shortly."

The Goblin looks up at the young man, and then offers a curtsey in return. "Simony.", she says with a smile, "For future reference." Her gaze goes back to Telamon. "That is one thing I admire about you, Telamon. Monstrous and unstoppable positivity. Where do you keep it all?'

"Alongside my charm and natural grace, I suppose," Telamon quips in reply. "Yes please, Marco. I know Jovani will want to pop out and say hi -- Rosalians always get grumpy if you don't at least talk a -little- bit during a business visit."

He pauses. "Is the Vintner busy? I might want to speak to him as well." His expression grows a little less cheerful, a little more careful.

Marco nods firmly. "He is not with anyone. But I must call signor Jovani first." With that, the young man darts back into the backrooms of the shop.

"Yes, charm and natural grace, and eyes that tug at the heartstrings, you also have seemingly boundless positivity. Even when that thing was breaking your force spell, even with the concerned look... I swear you were grinning, like it was amusing. What will happen next?!"

Simony laughs lightly. "So why the, uhm... subterfuge here? I mean, I don't really want to intrude on ... business that is not mine, but surely... a vintner who is also a master of arms, and a tailor... it feels like that there is more going on here than it seems. Much like the Chalice building."

Telamon looks like he'll respond, but then another half-elf comes striding out into the front room. "Ah, signor Telamon!" This half-sil is a couple inches shorter, with a shaven head, clad in a white tunic trimmed in green with deep green trousers. Jovani merrily embraces Tel, before turning to Simony.

"And you are signora... ah, no, you are a Temperance, Temperance Simony. A pleasure." Jovani offers to take Simony's hand, and bows over it, before releasing. "Marco is packaging the clothing for you and your lovely wife, Telamon. If you need anything..."

Tel grins. "I'll know who to yell at." There's a chuckle between the two, old friends bantering.

The Gobbo nods to Jovani, smiling brightly. She seems both delighted and shy at having her hand taken as she raises it up. "Oh, that's alright, I wouldn't be offended if you called me signora. But you are quite correct, I am one of Navos' own. You know your clergy, signor Jovani. I am honoured to meet you." As with Marco, Simony offers the gentleman a curtsey.

She attempts to retreat to the background then, letting the old friends 'catch up' and chatter, while she amuses herself with inspecting the interior of the place. A small notebook is retrieved from a pocket, along with a pencil. The Gobbo begins sketching the internal architecture.

Marco soon steps out, toting several wrapped parcels, which Telamon deftly transfers to his haversack... which doesn't look big enough to hold them. Marco in particular looks a bit wide eyed at this, and both Jovani and Telamon chuckle at his startled expression.

"Bags of holding and handy haversacks. The gods' gift for those of us who like to carry lots of things around." Telamon removes a heavy leather purse and begins counting out a stack of coins with Jovani, while Marco sidles over to see what Simony is doing. "If the signora wishes, we could do a fitting here at some future date. Do clerics always have to wear simple robes?" Marco's expression is curious, happy, and probably seeking a sale, but then that's the life of a tradesperson.

Simony is very curious at the bag that appears to be gulping down a hoard of packages. She eyes Telamon and then nods at his explanation. "Where... where do you get those?", the Gobbo wonders of Telamon, "And how much do they cost?"

Her expression reddens as Marco peeks at what she's doing, her pencil pausing as she offers up her notebook. The two pages have small diagrams of architectural interest, how the shop's been constructed and so forth. There's also a head shot of both Marco and Jovani, with their names labelled underneath.

The light reddening turns into a full blush. "It is not that clerics /need/ to wear simple robes, but it is done so for a few reasons. I would be afraid to take good clothing into battle, something I must do to defend my faith, and the citizens of Alexandria, and knowledge itself. Also, I would not wish to seem... ostentatious. That said..."

Simony reaches out to lightly boop Marco on the nose with a pale finger. "I do have a wedding that I may attend. Something nice for that would be appropriate. How soon may I make an appointment?"

"This? Handy haversacks are... mmm, depends on who you talk to, generally less expensive than most. Twelve-hundred to two thousand gold. But they hold a lot of things, -and- there's a minor enchantment so that if you're looking for something -- a wand, a bottle, a book -- it's always on top." Telamon finishes paying out Jovani, who slides the coins into a pouch at his belt. "Definitely worth the investment."

Marco seems quite pleased, though he giggles at the nose-boop. "Signor Jovani, the signora wishes a fitting for garments suitable to attend a wedding!" he pipes up. Jovani's eyebrows rise, but he grins, and opens a ledger, checking. "We can accommodate the signora next Gilday, if she would be so kind. Marco, if you would pencil it in?" Marco scampers over to begin writing down the appointment, as Telamon mouths 'well done' to Simony with a grin.

Her pencil begins wiggling about once more, on a fresh page, where she jots down the name of the miraculous bag of /hold-all-the-things/. "Thank you, Tel... I will definitely look for one." She shrugs. "I have never really collected many garments, I am well served by what the Monastery offers. However, that would do the happy couple a disservice, I think. So, I will add something to my wardrobe that I can use for nicer occasions."

The Goblin grins at Marco's expression, happy that he is happy. "Next Gilday works for me, perfectly." She glances to Telamon, "What did I do?", she mouths back. "Oh, is signor Marco a budding tailor? Learning at the hands of the master, yes?"

"A formal garment for such occasions is always a good idea, signora," Jovani says with a smile. "It is my pleasure to be able to assist one of Telamon's friends in this." At Simony's inquiry, he nods. "Marco is my apprentice. His fingers are deft and careful, and his heart is strong without being hardened, for we sometimes deal with the idle rich and nobles who are... how shall we say, less than polite."

"You threatened to not only throw that one fellow out, signor Jovani, you also threatened to beat him senseless and leave him for the watch," Marco pipes up.

Jovani looks embarrassed. "Yes, well... he had offered a considerable impertinence to Kyndra, and when called on it he was most rude. You shouldn't take my example, Marco, it's unbecoming."

Telamon just snorts. "Someone offered -Kyndra- an impertinence? He's lucky he didn't walk out carrying his innards in a bucket. Gods." He shakes his head. "Alright. Simony and I are going to pay our respects to the Vintner, Jovani. We'll be in touch if we need anything."

Her eyebrows raise at the conversation had about beating someone senseless and leaving them for the watch.

This time, she bows deeply from the waist. Looking to Marco, Simony offers. "Signor Jovani is simply being tactful and polite, but my advice is... be able to offer the sort of threat the good signor can, but be wise enough to wield such a thing carefully, sparingly. Enough that people understand that the store's good graces can be easily lost for a careless slip."

Her smiles is bright as she looks to Jovani. "So signor Marco shall measure and create the garment? I am happy then, since he is similar in size to me. Should make things easier, yes? My thanks, and I am happy to be a patron and guest. See you next Gilday!" She trails behind Telamon.

Telamon leads Simony out, and then knocks at a door next to the one to Jovani's. "Well played. And unfortunately, Jovani is... not wrong. There are good and decent people among the nobility, but..." He sighs. "There are also people who frankly shouldn't be allowed to talk to others. They've got an inflated sense of worth that would embarrass the most egotistical fiend by comparison."

Telamon's expression is faintly irritated. "Hence why I... sometimes bridle at the 'lord' appellation I get hung with. I don't want to -be- a lord. Sorcerer, of course. Diplomat, absolutely. Husband? Forever. But lord?" He hmphs. "Pass."

The door clicks open, and he leads Simony into the realm of the Vintner. It appears the Vintner has specific tastes, and a specific clientele. The room is well stocked with wine bottles from Alexandros, the Myrrish Kingdoms, even Veyshan, Dran, and Stormgarde. The man is clearly experienced with such matters.

It's also stocked with weapons -- like a palace armory. Blades from slim, elegant daggers to broad-bladed greatswords polished to a mirror shine, alongside elven bows, khazadi axes, and even a rack of artifice-crafted firearms. Standing before one rack, checking for dust, is a tall elven man, his expression cool and dispassionate, one ear clipped halfway along its length from a long-ago battle. Dressed in somber black, with white gloves, he turns to regard Telamon and Simony before nodding. "Once again, Telamon ... Lupecyll-Atlon now." A faint smile on the Vintner's face. "You've changed."

"That explains why you bristled a little when I called you lord. Though, I don't think you should react so. You've personal power, wealth and are decently well known. You, if you chose to, could be the change that 'lordship' needs. Someone once told me that one has to have the strength to affect the world, even if all one wants to do is study it."

Her wink is very obvious.

And then they're inside a place with a multitude of weapons. The Gobbo peers way up at the elf a moment, and offers a deep curtsey.

Telamon stares at Simony for a long moment, long enough that it might feel like she's under a glass. But then he sighs. "Ouch. Well placed, Simony." He meets the older elf's gaze, and nods. "Good day, Vintner. This is my good friend, Temperance Simony. I thought I should pay my respects, since I was next door."

"Indeed," the Vintner replies. "And as your friend notes, you have achieved certain heights. You cannot avoid such regard. There will always be those who seek your patronage, for good or ill." He tilts his head slightly, considering.

"Silvered weapons have, unsurprisingly, been in high demand of late." The Vintner reaches out to draw a fighting-dagger from its perch, the blade shining like captured moonlight. "And for those with the gold for it, mithril -- just as effective, light and deadly to those afflicted with lycanthropy."

Her smile is honest, but leaning into mischievous.

"I'm sorry, Telamon, that was cheeky of me, wasn't it. I did not mean it to be a sword thrust, but a finger poke. You are a good, decent and honest man. You have many qualities that would make you a good lord. Someone one could trust to wield power properly. You're already wealthy and powerful, you wouldn't take the reigns of lordship with wealth in mind. You can see the potential... of you, of Cor'lana, even of me. Of the city, the world even! You even keep your ego in check, except for when you're being cheeky."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Vintner. You have an excellent selection of wines and spirits, I see."

An exhalation. "I told Lana once, after we were married, that there would be those seeking to make hay about us. There were a lot of rumors that it was a political marriage to help cement an alliance between the Mythwood and Alexandros." Telamon makes a face. "Which really couldn't be further from the truth. But the point is that the great game, as father calls it, will be played regardless. Maybe it's time I started making moves in the game."

The Vintner replaces the blade after inspecting it, nodding to Simony. "Thank you. My life has had a curious series of turns. It pleases me to deal in wine, but old habits die hard, and the nobility likes to equip its guards in the event of trouble." The elf's eyes move to Telamon. "The world could do a lot worse than having you helping guide it."

Simony nods to Telamon. "I do not envy your position. I rather enjoy my quiet life in the Monastery, and the odd guild job, where the worst that can happy is being stuck in the breast with a blade, and being scared enough to wet one's self." She snorts then and laughs lightly. After a bit more conversation is had, her expression changes to a serious one.

"I have read a few books in my time, though I would gather I am less knowledgeable than either of you. But I know of one book where many laws of warfare are written. Warfare is a game, as you might expect... so... the first rule of not liking the game you have to play is... change the rules of the game. Play a different game, and force them to try to adapt. Feint at where they are strong, and kick them where they are weak."

Telamon sighs, laying a hand on the counter. "I never expected my life to... change so dramatically when I came to Alexandria. I... suppose I was dreaming too small. Now my world has become bigger, more intense than I could have imagined." He looks at Simony again. "It was easier, when I was... less important. But things change. I've changed. And now... like you said, all I can do is change the rules of the game."

He takes another breath. "But that will be for the future. Soon enough, there will be chaos, and disruption, and opportunity to set some things -right-." He tilts his head at the Vintner. "I won't burden you with the details. Suffice to say things are coming to a head regarding the depredations of the werewolves." The Vintner, for his part, merely nods.

"I am sorry for... picking at or opening old wounds or lines of thinking you may have ... set aside for another day's thinking.", the Gobber says, looking sad. "This could have been done a different afternoon, over dinner or something. Not here..."

She glances at the Vintner for a few moments. "Do you have anything for a wedding, something a guest might bring as a gift?"

Telamon shakes his head. "Simony, I don't think you've got a mean bone in your body. If nothing else, you've given me food for thought. Isn't that what Navos is about -- learning, understanding, not just the world around you but yourself as well?" He walks over, and puts a hand on Simony's shoulder. "I... sometimes wonder how I came to this. I don't like to put on airs -- oh, I dress well, but that's because I want to show the best face I can. And sometimes my confidence... well, it's easier shown than felt." He squares his shoulders. "But as the Vintner said, things change. I've changed. And maybe it's time I change that as well. Oh, I don't plan to get arrogant or anything. But... maybe I need to be taking myself more seriously."

At the inquiry, the Vintner ponders. "Who are the happy couple? Keep in mind that not all men and women are wine drinkers. Some prefer ale, or whiskey, or mead. Consider what they would treasure and appreciate."

"I am not as confident as you. I can honestly say that I mean well, but sometimes... well, the truth hurts. Sometimes it can be used as a weapon, to hurt someone. I do not wish to do that, especially not to you. I've a fondness for you, and I would be most upset if I hurt you or ... upset you."

Her eyes open wide. "I am sorry about tickling you at the baths. I shouldn't have, after you asked me not to."

Simony pauses for a moment, to look to the Vintner. "Andelena and Dolan. I am not familiar with their last names, however, but Telamon here should know."

Telamon shakes his head. "Forgiven. Forgotten. It's all right, Simony. I've dealt with much worse." He smiles down at the gobbo, and gives her a pat, before turning to the Vintner. "I don't know if they took out an announcement like I did -- Dolan Donnelly and Andelena of Selentia." He furrows his brow. "Honestly, I'm not sure if either is much of a wine drinker. Andelena was brought up in a noble family but she's run away from it so fiercely even I know better than to call her 'Lady Andelena'. And Dolan? Probably one of the best friends I've found, but he comes from a farm." He snorts. "I had to help him understand what was involved in a formal garment fitting."

The Vintner takes this all in, thinking, his expression thoughtful. "They'll want something... hmmm. Robust, bold even, but not with too many subtle tones. A happy drink for when they are alone." He tilts his head. "I'm surprised you've not supplied them with a bottle of one of your concoctions, Telamon."

Tel looks pained. "I just got the last bits for my new alchemical workshop replaced. I haven't had time yet."

The pat is met with a shy grin, and the Goblin fusses with her hair for a few moments before speaking. "I would like to go to the baths again, some time. Perhaps you would join me? Maybe bring Cor'lana along too?"

Simony offers a bow to the Vintner. "I am happy for any suggestion you offer, good sir. Perhaps two bottles? One for them to enjoy, and a second they could share?"

Her gaze goes to Telamon once more. "My offer still stands, I'll try one just to see what it does."

The Vintner's brow furrows, before he steps over to the racks, examining them. "A Rosalian mead," he decides. "Bold, sweet, flavorful. A celebration in itself, as those who brew it invoke the gods of light while doing so." He sets the bottle down on the counter. "I believe Telamon is familiar with this vintage."

Tel nods, reaching over to turn the bottle so the label can be seen. "This is a good year, too. It's also not as subtle as, say, teymdara -- if they were sil or half-sil I'd get a bottle of that, but honestly that's hard to appreciate unless you know how to do so. It's also damned expensive since export is heavily controlled."

The Goblin reaches into the sleeve of her robes, rummaging around and pulling out a coinpurse. "How much is the Rosalian mead? If I may inquire as to how it should be stored for the short term, so that it won't be disturbed before the wedding?"

She reaches out to pat at Telamon's hand. "I owe you. My thanks for this opportunity." Simony lets out a small huff. "I'd never get into here without you."

Coins change hands, the mead a solid but not over-expensive gift. The Vintner suggests at Simony's question, "Keep in in a cool, dry place. It's sealed, so it should be fine until the day of merriment. Don't jostle it -too- much, but it should be all right for light travel."

Telamon chuckles at Simony's huffing. "Oh, I don't know. Jovani prides himself on having the time for anyone who's not wasting it. You know how it is. 'Merchant has wares if you have coin'." His eyes twinkle. "And I'll supply you with a letter just in case you need to come back here without me. That should keep any pushy guards at bay.