Same as It Ever Was (Part 9)

GAME: Telamon casts Greater Shadow Conjuration. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29
GAME: Telamon casts Shield/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26

That was unexpected, but... useful. Telamon's lips curl in a hard smile. "No escape now, you forsaken memory." He spreads his arms, the wind whipping around him. "Anungal silig, gissu namsimug, gesse!" Black inky smoke pours out of his fingertips, weaving and twisting together until a form emerges from the smoke: a lillend azata with the face of Telamon's wife. Deliberately, she begins to sing, a warm melody to strengthen heart and arm.

Swiftly, Telamon incants another spell. "Duksium irhandi!" A shimmering disc of force appears in front of him, glowing brightly for a moment before fading to translucence.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/Religion: (12)+18: 30

The young man, or shade, or undead thing that is wearing the face of a man many people in the party knows, has luminously-lit blue eyes under that silver mask of his. He regards Zeke as the most beautiful thing that there ever was and ever could be. His lips pull into a splendid smile.

"Your corpse would make a lovely offering to my god," he says dreamily.

GAME: Aryia rolls diplomacy: (16)+-4: 12 
GAME: Simony casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 18 DC: 22
GAME: Simony rolls cmb+12+1: (14)+15+12+1: 42
GAME: Simony rolls 2d6+12: (10)+12: 22
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+29+1+2: (20)+29+1+2: 52
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+29+1+2: (15)+29+1+2: 47

Simony watches Aryia roll off with Nala, and she ohs. Her prayer is heard, invoking Navos' power for those nearby, to bolster their actions in combat. Meanwhile, the giant hand manages to snag KT.

"Ahah! You, you rude cretin... I am going to squeeze you till your head pops off! Zeke, pummel him!" The giant hand squeezes the rude cretin, something popping somewhere, and helpfully... KT is held in place.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+32: (16)+32: 48

The beautiful hymn gets Aryia to peek over at the melee, her brow knitting as the fight seems to have come to a natural pause, massive spells being ripped about and- is that a Lana angel thing?

She shakes her head. Focus. A deathly weapon is currently in hand, and Nala has to be kept safe. Her gaze snaps from the orb the dream-conductor is contained in, then flits over to a rock. A smile cracks her lips. The otherworldly pugilist dashes forth, dragging the scythe behind her making a line in the snow as she shoves her shoulder into the ball. It takes a second to start, but soon is scooting along the snow and rolling to a stop behind a boulder, out of sight of the creepy man.

The weapon gets stuck in the ground with one hand holding the hilt, as she balances on the haft and peering over the rock before looking down at Nala with a grin. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'll beat anyone's ass that tries to get you," the obsidian and white marbled, glowing eyed, luminescent, elf tries to reassure. <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1+2: (1)+10+(5)+1+2: 19
GAME: Zeke rolls 10d6: (46): 46
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+24+1+2: (20)+24+1+2: 47
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+24+1+2: (15)+24+1+2: 42
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1+2: (7)+10+(7)+1+2: 27
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1+2: (5)+10+(3)+1+2: 21
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1+2: (6)+10+(8)+1+2: 27
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17+1+2: (11)+17+1+2: 31
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+29+1+2: (9)+29+1+2: 41
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1+2: (5)+10+(7)+1+2: 25
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2: (17)+27+1+2+2: 49 (THREAT)
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2+4: (11)+27+1+2+2+4: 47
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+damage1+2+2+1d6+9d6: aliased to 1d6+4+1d6+4+2+2+1d6+9d6: (1)+4+(1)+4+2+2+(3)+(38): 55

Zeke's green eyes narrow at the vile creature of undeath that stands before him. "Thisss one isss belonging to the Dragonfather and none other!" His words are a flash. Rai is an executioner's weapon, a weapon of justice that strikes true against this foul creature that should not stand and yet does. Even though Zeke strikes it again and again, and *again* it stands. He cares not. Eventually it will fall, eventually it must fall, his weapon shines with the light of inevitability.

Sometimes, you get the perfect combination of just the right people to form an inescapable killbox. Rune is one of those people who knows how to use opportunities given to her by her allies. In that moment, Zeke seems to have the undead madman's full attention. So, it is easy enough to slip a blade into his lower back, right in the vulnerable spot a mortal might have some critical organs. "You should really stop threatening stuff like that... it didn't work for you in your other life and it just pisses people off in this one."

GAME: Harkashan rolls Cleric+4+Wisdom: (18)+18+4+10: 50
GAME: Harkashan rolls WIsHit+20+1: aliased to bab+wisdom+20+1: (11)+13+10+20+1: 55
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+32: (6)+32: 38
GAME: Harkashan rolls damage26: aliased to 1d8+6: (3)+6: 9
GAME: Harkashan rolls 11d6: (32): 32
GAME: Harkashan rolls WisHit+1: aliased to bab+wisdom+1: (20)+13+10+1: 44
GAME: Harkashan rolls WisHit+1: aliased to bab+wisdom+1: (11)+13+10+1: 35
GAME: Harkashan rolls damage26: aliased to 1d8+6: (3)+6: 9
GAME: Harkashan rolls WisHit+1: aliased to bab+wisdom+1: (4)+13+10+1: 28
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2: (5)+27+1+2+2: 37
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2-2: (19)+27+1+2+2+-2: 49 (THREAT)
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2-2+4: (8)+27+1+2+2+-2+4: 42
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+2+2-2: (13)+27+1+2+2+-2: 43
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2-7: (11)+27+1+2+2+-7: 36
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+2+2-7: (16)+27+1+2+2+-7: 41
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+2+2-12: (5)+27+1+2+2+-12: 25
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+2+2-12: (8)+27+1+2+2+-12: 28
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+damage1+2+2+1d6+9d6: aliased to 1d6+4+1d6+4+2+2+1d6+9d6: (2)+4+(5)+4+2+2+(3)+(23): 45
GAME: Rune rolls damage2+2+1d6+9d6: aliased to 1d6+4+2+1d6+9d6: (6)+4+2+(2)+(38): 52
GAME: Rune rolls damage2+2+1d6+9d6: aliased to 1d6+4+2+1d6+9d6: (4)+4+2+(1)+(28): 39

It is not often for Harkashan to reach for his blade. But in this instance, he does so with intense power. He lifts the Khopesh up, right before pale silver energy flows into it from his Lava-stones upon his armor and collects into a wave of positive energy so powerful, it makes it impossible to see the blade anymore.

"Vardama will once again have you within its halls, where you belong!" He demands of the undead before him, right before the sweeping light comes down, illuminating the ground like a pillar of blinding and searing light. Followed by two quick swipes that betray that Harkashan once had a lot more martial training than he does these days.

Impaling him with one of his last strikes to keep him in place. "Rune! Finish it!"

"Aww. My love brought me the best present a girl could ask for... creepy jerk impaled on a sword." Perhaps it is a sort of mercy that Rune doesn't let the man flail there on the end of the cleric's weapon. Though it may very well be an act of taking back power from someone who had briefly had her feel powerless. Even if it isn't the same man as in there world... close enough.

Her blades sink in to the exposed areas offered, sliding up under armor and piercing critical places, in a quick flash of her weapons. She doesn't waste time, or drag it out. Simple. Efficient. Clean. This is all of her time that he deserves.

Rune's strikes ripples through the shade wearing Karan'taara's face. One blade buries into the young man's chest, and then Karan'taara looks right through Rune with his piercing blue eyes. He looks almost... relieved.

(Out of the corner of her eye, Rune can see golden threads that seem to hang above Karan'taara.)

"Beautiful," he says softly, blood pouring out of his mouth and down his chin, foul black ichor that's some horrible parody of how people bleed. "Just... like..."

(The threads cut.)

The body rapidly disintegrates, dust billowing away in the snow-struck wind.

Meanwhile, Nala looks at Aryia with big, fat streams of tears falling down her face. "You mean it?" she asks. "I don't want to die."

... That scythe's still around.

Once the immediate danger is over, Telamon turns, straightening his tunic absently as he walks to where Nala is still in the 'panic bubble'. He places a hand on it, looking at her warmly. "Shhh. You're not going to die. You've got a lot of things to do first. Wonderful things." The shadow-azata disappears, as Telamon begins focusing his energy on a new plan.

"Aryia, let's get ready to dispose of that thing. I imagine this is going to cause me some grief, but I think they're the best equipped to deal with it." Deliberately, Telamon begins to cast again, his fingers describing a circle in the air. Starlight follows, as he incants the mighty world-spanning spell, and suddenly a portal ten feet across opens up to reveal... what looks like an accounting bureau. Desks, chairs, scrolls and quills. Of course, the difference here is that the entities working don't appear to be human, and are peering at the gate a bit suspiciously. Crows wearing plague doctor masks, and humanoids with lower bodies wrapped in cocoons.

Telamon blinks. "Wait, this is.. oh! The Antechamber. Of course. Say, sorry to bother you, but we have an artifact of Thul we need to dispose of..."

GAME: Telamon casts Gate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30

Hearing the sounds behind him, as the body upon his blade disintegrates, Harkashan grimaces. "Just as creepy as the last time..." He mutters, before looking back to Telamon. "Can you please NOT send the weapon this fool was using to the Halls, right where they will be receiving him? He caused months of trouble last time he was sent down there. Don't make it worse."

Aryia continues to peer, quirking a brow at the proverbial holy beatdown going on before breathing Out a sigh of relief. The onyx skin and white marbling lax in intensity, returning back to that dim grey. "Oh yes, I mean it. He's super dead now," the mute mul gestures to Nala, smirking briefly before glancing over towards Telamon.

Her answer to handing it over is met with sliding down the orb, nudging it out from behind the rock so Nala can see everything going on before saddling up to the Archemage with the scythe dangling over a shoulder. She tilts her head as the portal appears, then lightly shudders. "I remember last time I went to this plane in person." She glances to Harkashan, past to the disintegrating body, then back to Harkashan. "Then where do we send it if not there? Because I'm sure as shit not snapping this thing over my knee." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Zeke's tail thumps lightly, watching the man disintegrate into nothingness. His wings shake a little bit and then he turns and walks slowly but surely back toward Aryia and the girl. Now that the battle is over he wants to be sure that they are both well. His own joints are aching from the cold and from his energetic exercise in the combat. He sighs. Sometimes he wonders what his bones will be saying to him when he is another hundred years older than this.

A nice warm fire, that's what they need. Tea.

Zeke wonders why it is that this dream had to take place in the winter cold rather than a nicely tropical warmth. Which is about the point at which he realizes that Telamon has opened a gate to Vardama's realm rather casually. To get rid of the scythe it seems. Though it seems that Harkashan has some issue with the idea. Zeke looks at the scythe thoughtfully. "Perhapssss we could asssk for it to be desstroyed?"

Simony watches with interest as Telamon begins casting the spell. She hides behind him and peeks out at the gate, squinting at the beings she sees working away. Her gaze goes to Harkashan, but it is Aryia that clues the Goblin in. "Oh. The Grey Halls.", she says quietly. She nods in agreement with Zeke.

"Perhaps they might do so. If not, perhaps we could speak with Navos? What better way to keep it safe than with the master of Time? It would seemingly vanish from history. Possibly."

Rune's concern in that moment is not for the weapon as it seems to be for most of the others, but with those hints of golden threads which have her looking perplexed towards the air where the man had been a moment before. The strange connections of dreams and reality that make up this place certainly have her questioning things.

"Uh... So I just spotted fate threads on that doppleganger." Rune lets that linger for a moment, "I saw them being cut just before he crumbled to dust." What that might mean... well that seems beyond her at the moment. But Rune does take a moment to wipe the ichor from her weapons before moving to approach the others.

A crow wearing a plague doctor mask struts forward to the gate. And it really is a strut. Corvids tend to sashay like they are the natural commanders of all of Dana's wilds. _Tap tap tap_ go the crow's talons right across the stone floors. It stops just shy of the boundary that leads into the space.

"We will accept the artifact and care for it." A voice with no gender and no age leaves the crow. There's no eyes to perceive in any way behind the mask. "Do not be disturbed. It is precisely the right place for such an item to go. Better our hands than that of... the other one. We will determine its fate after a thorough assessment." The crow flaps its wings a little, like it's trying to get rid of the Thul thought-taint out of its wings. Noticeably, it also does not provide any hands or even an open beak to place the scythe into.

Nala peers at the crow from her spot in the orb. Her eyes shine bright. "So cute!" she says, pressing her face up against the orb and not even caring at all that it makes her look very, very silly.

Zenith's feathers all fluff up, and with a note of jealousy in his voice as he eyes the plague doctor crow, he says, "Just hand over the scythe already. We can go back to Nala's house and get some well-needed rest and strategizing in." Then he peers at Simony. "Such as whether or not you want to speak to _Him_ so... soon."

The mention of fate threads draws an interested look from Zenith as well, but he adds nothing more on that note.

Harkashan is about to comment something in reply, when a Corvid steps through the Gate to retrieve the Artifact. Well then. It seems he stands corrected. He is still grumpy and crossing his arms though. But eventually he lowers his shoulders a bit and lets out a sigh and looks to Nala, who is regarding the Corvid with child-like wonder.

He thinks back for a moment at the dream-within-the-dreaming of the girl talking about wanting to learn to go and stab and murder things.

"I agree. Let's go inside. I for one, could use a nice meal."

Telamon smiles broadly. "That seems perfectly reasonable, sir. Thank you for your assistance." After all, it never hurts to be polite. He gestures for Aryia to slide the scythe across the boundary, before letting the gate close once more.

With a snap of his fingers, he dismisses the sphere holding Nala safe, taking her hand and bowing over it. "I think Hark and Zenith have the right idea, Nala. You definitely need something to eat." He gives her a stern, but kindly look.

The Goblin cants her head, and she squints at Zenith.

"What do you mean by that, Zenith? It sounds a bit... ominous." Her arms cross. "You could elaborate along the ways, yes?"

Aryia gives a little side eye at Rune mentioning something about... fate threads? What was that about? It was a ponderance for later, as instead her attention was pulled towards the little plague doctor crow. Nodding, she steps forward, holding the scythe out towards... towards... uh. No hands, can they fit in a beak? No. Too tiny. Uh...

She reaches into the portal, and very gently sets the reaping weapon on the ground within the Halls. "Thanks," she flicks in gesture before stepping back and away, one hand in a pocket as the other rubs at where she was impaled, wincing a little looking a little lethargic. "I could use a snack," she ends up agreeing. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Zeke's tail flickers with pleasure. It seems that he will have a chance to play host after all! He putters toward the house eagerly, a little quickly now that he knows that he has such an opportunity. He has some tea in his bag that he can make, and some rations that can be made into a small meal... Perhaps the house will have some supplies that can be utilized to make things go a bit further. He thrums happily to himself.

It takes five minutes for tea to be ready. Possibly less.

As it is Zenith who meets her gaze when she mentions the fate threads, Rune holds the look with the bird for as long as possible, as if she were trying to determine just how much he knows about it. Given his role, likely more than most.

Then, with a sigh, she runs a hand through her hair. "Yeah, let's go." Turning to follow the others, she mutters to herself, "I hate the cold."

"We appreciate your contribution. Until we meet again." The crow nudges the scythe with its beak, and then the weapon lifts up into the air--and then the gate closes. No more scythe. No more masked crow. Just the snow in the woods.

"I will explain when we are back in the house, and no sooner," Zenith says flatly to Simony. He even takes flight, flapping ahead of them.

"Moody boy," Nala complains.

But the crew make it back to Nala's house. It seems... Empty. Sad. Nala persuades the fireplace to light up again, but she curls up on the couch with several blankets. Zenith's in her lap, and he's also tucked into the cocoon of blankets that Nala's wrapped around herself, his little beak poking out. It's a nearly identical configuration to one of Lana's favored ways to cuddle Pothy.

"So..." Nala wrinkles her nose. "Why were you all in the woods?" she asks. "Were you looking for me or something?"

GAME: Harkashan casts Heroes' Feast. Caster Level: 18 DC: 26

Harkashan, when he gets inside, works on a different kind of hospitality. While the temperatures are low and the mood are yet sad, he stands at the head of the large dining table and begins a ritual to quite literally make for a meal for the group.

It may not be his home, but as a Sith'makar, hospitality is important. Even at a grave situation like this, with Nala's mother having passed -- no, especially at a grave situation like this...

Sometimes people just want to eat their feelings.

It isn't long before a spread of various sweets and savory items fills the table from start to end. Drinks galore. All while the lizard is listening to the people in the main chambers.

When the ritual completes, he calls out; "Food's ready!" Pause. "Avoid the really dark salsa if you are not spice tolerant. I put like... 32 chilis in there."

The Goblin makes for one of the comfortable-looking chairs, and throws herself bodily onto it, curling up into a little ball.

"Is anyone injured, or feeling any ill effects? I can help you with that, if you need." The mention of food has her ears perking up a little, but she remains ensconced on the chair.

"Zenith, would you be willing to explain now what you meant back there? Is Navos cross or something?"

GAME: Zeke casts Greater Restoration. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26

Telamon heads into the kitchen, but the shelves and pantry are extremely scant. He pauses, furrowing his brow, a memory surfacing as he glances at Nala. A moment where he seems to recognize something, and sighs.

Thankfully, Harkashan is up to the challenge and solves the problem. "He's not kidding. That Am'shere salsa could give a gelatinous cube indigestion." Tel walks back out of the kitchen.

"To answer your question, Nala... yes, we were. You need help; and that's what we do." He reaches out to Nala with a kind smile. "But I think Zenith has some things to share first."

Harkashan then takes some of the slow-roasted chicken from the Heroes' Feast, and calls out to a certain Silver Dragon Servant they had only recently met. "Man, I've got all this CHICKEN here... and I don't think we can eat /all of this chicken/..."

Aryia gives the crow a squint. Meeting again? She sure hoped not. Regardless, she ambles back inside with everyone, all but throwing herself onto the couch next to Nala. Interesting choice of words. "It looped," she offers in an only explanation to others.

Panting a little, she raises a hand, hand turning to onyx again as she reaches the glow towards the wound. Straining, she yanks free a black miasma, gasping slightly before crushing the ick in her palm. "Could use a little fixing, damn thing saps your soul," she asks.

After a brief stint of just laying there strewn on the couch, head lulled back, her attention is snapped towards the heroic feast and the tea Zeke is working on! Anything and everything makes it on her plate, even the most spiciest of 32 chilis. <Handspeech/Tongues>

At first, Rune lingers close to the fireplace, without actually settling. She wears a small path behind the seats. It's enough to warm the chill from her bones, but not enough to negate the anxiety that is lingering and is driving her not to sit still.

The smell of food draws her attention. It's been a while since her last meal and these sort of feasts tend to be more heartening than the average inn food. Bless having a mate who can magically cook. So, Rune loads a plate before she returns, leaning against one of the empty chairs as she shoves food into her face.

"Yeah, I'd like to hear from our feathered friend. Seems like he's knows a few more things that we need to talk about." The rogue raises her brows. Nom nom nom.

Zeke's tea is quite restorative, and he spends a few moments ensuring that Aryia is in particular well after handling such a noxious weapon. He like the others partakes heavily of the feast, enjoying many of the dishes (even trying a small portion of the very spicy dish). He takes a seat on the floor near the fireplace and wraps his tail around himself for extra warmth. With Rune's words he turns his green eyes on Zenith.

"He doesn't usually give me a lot of time to speak to him," Zenith explains to Simony with a sad note in his voice. "He doesn't have time for me. Only for... time. Side-effect of losing his Compassion. He never _makes_ time for anyone."

Nala hasn't gotten herself a plate yet. If anything, she just looks more confused than before with Zenith's words. "What are you talking about, Zenith?" she asks.

There's a pause before Zenith adds, "My father. I have a family... Sort of. My brother, my father--although he doesn't really answer to that anymore--and myself."

"You have a Zenny-father, and a Zenny-brother!?" Nala exclaims, looking at Zenith with pleased golden eyes.

"I do," Zenith says. There's a little ache in his voice. "I haven't seen my brother in a very long time. We've been kept apart for a very long time." He looks at Simony. "I'm just saying, if you're going to tell a story to Him, to give him his Compassion back... You'd better have it ready first. He doesn't like waiting. He'll leave you alone in the dark if he has other things to tend to."

GAME: Aryia rolls fortitude: (20)+23: 43 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)

Telamon tilts his head, considering. "If it helps, Zenith, your brother is well." His lips quirk. "Although perpetually in search of snacks. But that's nothing new." He taps his fingers together.

"Zenith makes a good point. There was an incident shortly before we came here." He glances at Simony and Zeke. "Part of it involved me getting his father's attention -- but he was only present long enough to deal with the issue, and only because it directly impinged on his domain of time."

He sighs. "The point is that he won't hang around for niceties. We need to make sure this works the first time. That it reawakens his Compassion. Because even if we get another chance, it'll only be harder."

"Thanks" Aryia readily offers Zeke as she brings her back to whole and hale, taking plenty of tea to go with the unholy meal before her. All that body power has to get fueled /somehow/.

She doesn't have much to offer about the situation, though she does go for seconds, looking over a plate of thlacos and using the 32 chili salsa as garnish in- well- everything. Her nose is running, face is flushed a reddish blue, and a few tears leak. But that doesn't stop her cheeks from bulging like a squirrel. The main saving grace keeping her from chemical burns was that delicious tea. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Simony stands, and moves to the couch where Nala is seated, to gently stroke along Zenith's head.

"He will make it up to you." She glances to Nala and nods. "Navos is, of a sorts, Zenith's father. His brother is Apotheosis, nicknamed Pothy. He is the friend and familiar of Cor'lana, Telamon's wife."

The Goblin lets out a lengthy sigh, and she nods to what Telamon says. "The destruction of the fiend. Looking back to Zenith, she lets out another sigh. "If it comes to it, I will give him my compassion, as I have said. It is a little spark... but you can get a really big fire with just a spark."

If there's one place where Rune's knowledge about the world is distinctly lacking, it is much of anything when it comes to the gods. In fact, her connection to the Sky-singer had been long built and hard fought to get to where it is today. So, how to deal with Navos is a a question she doesn't have a good answer to.

Other than to look over at Simony and frown, "I'd rather not see you losing that part of yourself, either." The idea of her friend losing that part of herself is not something she wants to imagine. "There has to be some other way, so let's leave that as a plan Z." After every other plan has been tried, that is.

Rune shoves food into her face again, chewing with a thoughtful expression.

Zeke nods to Aryia seriously, accepting her gratitude easily. What he can not accept so easily is Simony's words which she has been stating over and over again since the inception of this trip. "Do you think thisss isss wissse Sssimony? What if yoursss alone isss not enough? Thisss one doess not like to think what you might be with-out your compasssssion either. Would you be-come a demon? Sssome-sssuch other ilk?" He shakes his head. "Sssuch 'easssy' sssolutionsss are rarely the onesss that are the bessst onessss."

After getting some of his own food on a plate, he sits down. Eating slowly. Tail hanging over the backless seat - giving his tail room to lay. His head back a bit to look up to Rune, before turning back towards Zenith and co.

He listens. But is still uncertain about how to best do any of this.

There's perhaps something to be said about the Sith'makar and their relationship to memories and the past - making it sometimes a bit harder to make things up. He could no doubt recall various stories, even stories... in his blood...

He slowly looks towards Zenith and Nala as his scales go just a bit pale.

Zenith opens his beak to speak, but then a little silver dragon appears. Right next to Harkashan's head. "PEOPLES!" he cheers. (Oww for Harkashan.) "Whatarepeoplesdoing!?"

"Trying to convince Simony not to give up her sense of Compassion," Zenith dryly responds. "Father's a god. One mortal's Compassion is not worth the price. You are talking about lighting a small, tiny candle in a cold, harsh place."

Ainith, the little silver dragon, looks very perplexed. "Peoples were told what to do, right? Tell stories! Giving away Compassion is very, very bad. It is gone for good."

Nala frowns, trying to keep up with the conversation. "I don't want Simony to lose her... sense of compassion," she says. "Giving a lantern to someone for them to take from you means you could never give it back. But shining the lantern for them... It allows them to see." She scrunches up her mouth in confusion. "I still don't really understand what all of you are talking about, though."

Harkashan falls off the chair when the Silver dragon suddenly appears right next to his head with a loud 'PLOOF' onto the floor. Groaning in surprise, before slowly reaching up at the chair and getting back up, offering some Chicken to the silver dragon.

Telamon blinks as the little silver dragon appears, his expression bemused. "You did this to yourself, Hark," he reminds Harkashan, before sipping his drink. "We might be overthinking this. We all have tales of compassion, of kindness. Weave them together, like a collection of stories. An anthology. We come from so many places, so many roads, and yet... here we are, gathered together."

"And there are more stories yet to be told -- let's try to impress on him that they should be allowed to play out. Whatever it takes to get his attention and hold it."

The Goblin jumps at the arrival of the silver dragon, its presence causing her to smile for a few moments. She looks to Rune and Zeke, rolling her shoulders slightly. "It is a plan, it does not have to be the first one we attempt. As for what I would become?" Simony shrugs.

"I would become distant, like Navos is now. I uhm... doubt I would become a demon. Perhaps a cold, little Goblin librarian." She rubs at her cheek. "If it is gone for good, then what are we doing trying to get Navos his compassion back? No, I doubt that is true. And what is my compassion compared to the problem at hand? I have served Navos. If he requires of me my compassion, I will give it. It would be my kindest act." A tear rolls down her cheek and she dabs it away. "It's worth it to heal Zenith. And Nala..." Another shrug.

"But we can save that for the last resort, if telling stories works, it is moot."

Aryia gives The Stare at Simony, but doesn't add anything further as others have done enough vetoing that idea. Harkashan is given a raised brow- she has enough experience with makari to know when something's up- but then- a tiny yelling dragon! She can't help but smirk in amusement as she gives the excited Ainith a slight bow of the head in acknowledgement.

She waves at Nala to get her attention. "It is less understanding and more about empathizing. You are very connected to your emotions. Telamon shows that we all have a story to tell, one of many emotions, but all are connected here by compassion. If you can tap into what we are trying to convey, since you have not experienced this and feel what we feel, we might be able to shine a light bright enough for another being to see clearly. Does that make more sense?" The key is Nala, after all. Not that she really needs to know.

This is all said while a thalco dangles out of her mouth. Crunch. Tea. "Save your kindest act as a fan for a firelight, not as kindling," she gestures to Simony. <Handspeech/Tongues>

"It issss a tale of many ssstoriesss." Zeke says, remembering an ancient tale of a woman who with cleverness and wit staved off her death with stories. By telling them one after another she kept herself from death. So too, in a way must they. He looks at Nala. "We sssseek to teach compasssion to one who hasss none. You ssssaid to thiss one onsce that you wissshed to have an adventure. That you wanted to sssee the world. Do you ssstill wissh to do ssso? Do you ssstill wissh to become more than you are now?"

As the pale goblin continues to expound on the impacts of losing her own compassion, Rune walks over to her and gently puts a hand on her shoulder. "Not going to happen, okay? So let's stop talking about it like it's a real possibility." Oh, the rogue probably accepts that it is an alternative solution, but it isn't one she's willing to consider.

Instead, it is Telamon's suggestion that draws her attention. As of late, Rune has taken it on herself to tell the stories of others, recording them to deliver to her patron. However, she has never been one to focus much on her own story. "I don't think the god would be swayed by some parts of my own story, given that some of it delves into time shenanigans I'm sure he wouldn't be pleased with..."

Then, her eyes look over to Harkashan, "There's always the story that started everything." Her own self-sacrifice. "But there's also the others... those alternate versions of ourselves. How do we weave them into the story, too?" She looks a bit perplexed, perhaps not quite able to connect the dots.

Nala's eyes begin to shine with understanding as Aryia, Zeke, and Rune talk. "I _do_ want to go on an adventure," she says softly at Zeke. "I want to go on an adventure with my friends. I want to meet Telanmo and Yiara and Runelei and Shankahar. And... I want to meet the you that's not you, Simony."

She looks at Zeke resolutely. "I want to save the you that isn't you from himself." Nala smiles brightly, and one could swear her golden eyes are glowing softly. "So, since you're all adventurers... Can you teach me how to be an adventurer like you, too?"

Zenith looks astonished, peering up at Nala. "You want to leave the house, Nala?" he asks. "You hate leaving the house. Because of all of those horrible people."

Nala nods gently, but she looks down at Zenith in her lap. "It's okay," she says softly. "Because I've got people who can help me. I've got..."

She looks at every single person. Aryia, Simony, Telamon, Harkashan, Rune, and Zeke. Nala's smile is as bright as the sun that's the same color as her eyes on a summer day. "I've got friends now."

-TBC