When Family Calls

Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl. Also known as Great Dragonfather mountain, the large volcano-side city is even more a hub for activity than the norm. A significant number of individuals and materiel move here from the portal to Alexandria and elsewhere in Am'shere. Some have already done so, Verna and Auranar among them.

It is from here that word was sent to the other Lupecyll-Atlons from Verna. An urgent request for a meeting, at the least, and aid, at most. Verna forewarned the local guards (known as Talons) at the gate and within. Afterall, she is familiar enough with Telamon's travel to know that he might choose to forgo the portal and/or the gate altogether.

The Mourner, herself, is currently in one of the many interior courtyards formed by arrangements of single homes and/or small temples.

Indeed, when family calls for aid, Telamon tends to ignore things like borders. Or intervening distance. His sole concession to propriety is to teleport just outside the gates, the multicolored, opalescent sphere swelling into existence before disappearing to reveal the half-sil sorcerer. Clad in his rakish white silk blouse over leather riding trousers, his hair caught back with a gold and silver circlet and intricately-decorated boots on his feet, he could be mistaken for a dilettante -- until one looks into his eyes.

Impassively, Telamon instructs the guards in their own tongue, his Draconic firm and commanding. "This one is known as Shaman Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. I have come at the bidding of my sister, Verna Lupecyll-Atlon. Conduct me to her as you see fit, but I will see her." <Draconic>

And with that, the Talons are escorting the elegant young man to meet with his sister.

Verna has a tome hovering before her, which she skims as she walks. Her destination, however, is far less clear; it is more likely that she merely paces whilst browing, though it also prevents her from standing in the way of any other pedestrian.

Perhaps she is expectant of him or others, or the influx of further Talons simply catches her notice. In any case, Telamon's arrival is noted rather promptly. Now her steps have a solid destination as she approaches. "Telamon. My thanks for your hasty response, and my apologies that matters require such urgency."

Once the Talons are satisfied Telamon is who he says he is, and offers no danger, they withdraw. The stern expression on Tel's face melts into a smile, and he reaches out to take Verna's hands in his. "You didn't go into details, but the message did indicate you needed me now, rather than, say, next week." Releasing Verna's hands, he gives her a nod.

"Well, Doctor Barnabus Bizarre doesn't get called out for kittens stuck in trees. What's going on, and how can I help?" The two of them begin to walk together, making an odd pairing.

Verna gives a light squeeze. "Indeed." Her brief pleasure in seeing him is muted as her expression hardens. "This city, perhaps most of the Makari people, may not be intact on the morrow, much less in a week. A plague has been threatening the people here; a manufactured disease intent on changing them. That corruption is now poised to strike here along with those that seek to benefit from it. I believe they seek to use the volcano to spread this corruption across the land. They must not succeed. Auranar and I would welcome whatever aid you might offer."

Telamon swears softly. "There was some... experimentation, a while back. Hark brought me in to consult at one point. They were trying to weaponize some form of disease, to infect the makari with the curse of the Forgotten." He exhales. "Damn it, I thought they'd wiped it out. Is it the Charneth again?"

It's clear he expects the answer to be 'yes', in any case. His brow furrows. "But why the volcano... ah. It's still active to an extent, I saw the lava flows. If they could induce an eruption, they could spread their filth halfway across Am'shere." Tel's eyes glitter, hard and cold. "What do we know about them? Will they attempt a siege, or infiltration?"

Verna now fully frowns. "Yes, the very same curse. I was informed that heat activates it or otherwise empowers it. If they were to get a sufficient amount to the volcano, it could be disastrous." Her frown only deepens.

"Yes, it is the Charneth. More specifically, it is orchestrated by Lady Varyssa of House Calana'el. I was able to confirm as much, as well as a general arrangement of their forces. This city is surrounded on three sides: a group of magi or other wielders of magic to the south; a group of devils to the north; to the west is where what I believe is the greatest threat. A being they refer to as the ravener: a force of nature nearly the size of the volcano which they have corrupted and currently seek to control."

A heavy sigh. "Of course it's them. And Lady Varyssa, too. Wonderful." Telamon's expression is sour. "Alright. I can think of a few ideas. Since the volcano is at least somewhat active, I could call guardians through to bolster our defenses. Or we throw a heavy assault at the mages or the devils, try to break them so that they can't get here."

He reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what, if anything, we can do with the ravener yet. We know so little beyond the name, after all." He looks at Verna. "What forces can the city bring to bear?"

"The city is organizing and readying all that it can," Verna offers, then realizes that response is extremely vague. "There are several elder shamans whom we spoke to briefly. Many warriors. I did not take a full census. Scouts were recently sent to reconnoiter the three enemy groups. Unfortunately, none returned and are presumed slain."

Her frown turns thoughtful, though it is not exactly an improvement. "If we can prevent, or even delay, their control over this creature, the city may have its best opportunity. Walls and warriors could repeal fiends and magi, but they would have little effect against a moving mountain."

"Then the best option might be to strike where the ravener is, and try to undo whatever they're planning." Telamon considers. "No living creature likes to be chained. Break this ravener's chains, and it may do half the work for us. But even if it does not, as you say, it removes one of the linchpins of their plan."

His eyes turn toward the west, as if he can see what might be there. "We'll need to move fast. How far to the west is this beast? Who is here that can move swiftly, or be teleported with me?"

Verna considers. "Myself, Auranar.. I am uncertain of others. Aside from the elder shamans, I have encountered few adept at magic. I believe that will be a necessity to counteract whatever enchantments they work upon the creature, and I would not deprive the city of its leaders. I have minimal information on the creature, and none of the rituals they enact to control it."

Telamon nods. "Lana and I are both trying to keep things tamped down on our end, so I cannot guarantee her assistance. But if we can kill their enchanters and spell-binders, and then break the enchantments..." He sighs. "This would be so much easier with more information -- but as you say, time is short. I would prepare spells to disrupt or dispel such effects. We will need to move swiftly, and strike them before they are aware."

Verna nods deeply. "I would not seek to pull either of you into this, and certainly not lightly. I was uncertain whome else I might seek. Yes, we most certainly require more information. If we can halt their corruption of the beast, excellent. If not, we might still delay it and gain more knowledge of their methods and capabilities. I had considered venturing forth alone..." A mild upward curl counters, or at least softens, her frown, "yet Auranar would never permit nor forgive me."

"Have you ever read the treatise of Knight Commander Karl Gottlieb?" Telamon sounds contemplative. "He wrote about the three circles of warfare. This feels like something similar -- if we cannot stop their scheme, we must settle for delaying or disrupting it. 'Time, time, ask me for anything but time.' -- well, if we can put off their ensorcelling of the ravener, we can gain that time." His eyes glint. "We are far from home, but so are they -- and I suspect we have better relations with the natives."