Glorious Home

[Anastasia]

"Enter," The voice that answers is normal enough, if a bit on the young side. A man's voice.

[Nephrite]

Moore opens the door to go inside! Is he prepared enough for this...?

[Anastasia]

Inside is a simple balcony, the view showing the mountain and valleys for miles around. The only furniture is a table and two chairs, one of them filled by a brown haired, unremarkable human - or perhaps a bit more, as his ears have a bit of a point, a hint of the almond-shaped eyes of the elves as well. His expression is pensive, nursing a glass of amber liquid. "Spirits," he says and takes a sip, "A magic of their own. Useful when one wants to unwind, relax...or free the mind to wonder at your sheer persistence. Most people take the hint of how hard it is to find here and leave us be."

The young man - perhaps twenty or so years, not a hint of a beard on him nor the slightest sign of aging - has another long sip of his drink before going on. "Then again, the inheritors to Medi's legacy would have to be tenacious. Doubly so a pixie who ends up with rank Celestia of all places."

[Nephrite]

Moore smiles and offers a flourishing bow.

"I've been known to be persistent and annoying at times, I admit." Moore says. "You keep yourself abreast of the world outside quite well for someone who secludes themselves as you do. I apologize for the ignorant question, but what is the purpose of all of this?" He gestures around. "It's obviously more than just a place to study magic in silence, you could've just as easily come to Aurora's libraries for something like that. I could freely speculate, but if you'll humor me, I'd like to understand."

[Anastasia]

"Got tired of the world," The young man shrugs, "So I took and made my own." Finishing his drink in one last gulp, "Why live in someone else's world when you can live in your own?"

[Nephrite]

Moore nods. "I do understand that. I think, for me... living in an imperfect world lets me help more people, and allows me to feel like I'm making it a better place. I'm not going to try to drown you in flowery words or a speech that moves your soul," Moore says as he coughs once. "Although I'd like to. It's certainly worked for me so far. I want to ask you for your help against Shar -- I want to ask you to come out of the world you've created to help save countless others."

"I'm not going to make a plea to your conscience -- the fact is you're an accomplished magic-user who would be of immeasurable help." Moore says. "I'm not trying to appeal to your ego, either, I'm just speaking as honestly and as plainly as I can."

[Anastasia]

A long sigh, "You know, you're the first person who has made it that far to try this? I've heard impassioned speeches, seen bribes worth entire kingdoms laid at my feet, had women so beautiful that rain refused to fall on them offer themselves to me. But never a forthright appeal to my better nature."

A moment's pause and he pulls a decanter of amber liquid out, refilling his glass. "I'm not drunk enough for this." He puts his bottle down and has another long drink. "The only one that worked was one of the women, she became my wife. Go ahead and ask her, my better nature's a rare beast to be seen." A peer at you, "You're what, a few hundred years old? That's nothing. You still think you can change Creation? Make it a better place?" A long drink follows again, "Fight the good fight and rest the rest of champions after succeeding? Here's a big, dirty secret: It doesn't matter."

Staring down at his glass, "You kill the petty bandits, you learn that they prosper because of a crooked baron taking bribes. Kill the baron, you find out that the court wizard encouraged him to do so as long as he paid taxes on them. Kill the court wizard, then get surprised by the fact that the king and entire court is crooked. Overthrow the government in a violent revolution, and it turns out that the entire thing was orchestrated by a cult of whatever dark power you don't like today. Wipe out the cult, find information that suggests that a powerful spirit is manipulating them. Hunt down the outsider and kill it, find out it has a dozen more plans to wreck misery. End all of them? A dozen new cultist cells of various flavors have  sprung up while you were busy. Somehow realize that's a waste time and go up the chain. Kill, kill, kill. Stronger and stronger and stronger and you know what? You do it. You punch out the dark power, get them to stop it on your world...and so what? A dozen others are moving on your world. Go beyond that and somehow kill that dark power for good? Another will rise."

His diction starts slow and becomes tired, tense. He turns his attentions to you and meets your gaze as he goes on. A breath once he finishes, "It's a zero sum game. Rigged up to be by the creators of this Creation, all to answer an impossible question. We're all rats running on a wheel, chasing something we can never have. So to hell with the rest of Creation. Make a place you can be happy and tell the rest of it to have fun tearing itself apart." Finally you get a long look, a few more breaths and more booze poured. "I'd offer you some," he says, "But you strike me as a teetotaler. All that good hope and energy ruins the booze, anyway."

[Nephrite]

Moore simply takes all of that in stride, nodding to his words as he goes along.

"You're not wrong, of course. Living for, what, thousands of years will make someone bitter about that sort of thing." Moore says. "I will disagree with you on one particular point -- it does matter. I don't care if you have no idea who I am or what I did when we liberated Lifasa -- I care, and I know all my friends who participated in it care too. Whether in ten thousand years or even a few dozen anyone remembers me is irrelevant -- I did what I did for the sake of others and I can be proud of that." He clears his throat and looks apologetic for a moment.

"Sorry, I said no speeches. Here's the brass coins version -- you can stay in here and delude yourself that the world outside isn't your problem. It's not, you don't have any obligation to it. But what about when Shar's cronies come in here? What then? Is it your problem at that point? Why even let anyone in here learn and grow like Prosperity or Prince do if you care so little about everything? Why even create any of this?" Moore asks, taking a breath after that.

"I said I wasn't going to try and sway you with speeches, but your actions don't match your words. Deep down, you want to believe in something, so you went with the only thing you could trust, which was yourself. I can understand that way of thinking -- but I believe in other people too. I'm not going to sit here and bore you with how I've already made Creation a better place, or about how I've already changed things -- you can see it plain as day from the fact that I am standing here, keeping you sober." Moore throws an arm out at this.

"Stop hiding here and creating your own perfect world and go outside and make the world less awful for the people in it. I'm not asking you to help me kill bandits, or do some parlor tricks. Have you ever been to Xiranthador?" Moore asks. "Don't worry, I don't have to be a supreme sorcerer to know the answer to that one -- but hey, maybe you'll surprise me." He takes a breath at all of this, as if he's trying to stop himself.

"I've seen the face of hope. I'm not willing to give up on Creation just yet, not after everything I've seen. I may not have been around for very long, but when was the last time you did anything you were passionate about? Why even have these other people and things here? If everything was really as you said, you'd just have one entirely endless plane of existence with nothing else in it but you and a glass of wine." Moore gets out, then huffs.

"...I really failed at that no speeches thing..." He rubs the bridge of his nose.

[Anastasia]

Make a Diplo check, -40 circumstance penalty. Good luck.

[Nephrite]

That's what all the magic is for!

Take 10 for 72. Admittedly the DC is still probably pretty high, but I have faith!!!

[Anastasia]

"I know your type," Makim retorts, "Can't pass up a good speech, can you? You care too much. You think words can really change things, you believe. You have faith." Another drink goes down, no refill as he banishes the glass and decanter with a wave of his and murmured words. "You think deep down I care, because in the end, you're too young to see anything but yourself."

Sitting back, gesturing to the horizon, "Mount Celestia's pretty nice for you, huh? Your own little world to get away from it all when you aren't doing this or that?"

[Nephrite]

"It has its charm." Moore says, smiling. "It's good to have a place to return to -- but I wouldn't want to live there forever."

[Anastasia]

"Then why work for them? You choose a side and you're stuck there usually, unless you fall or rise. Why, got your eye on a nice castle in Avernus one day?" Makim retorts. "Most archons can't shut up about going to Chronias forever."

[Nephrite]

"How much do you know about the Lost Realms?" Moore asks. "Oceans of light, all that stuff?" He clarifies, since just calling it 'the lost realm' may not be clear.

[Anastasia]

"Enlighten me," Makim drawls, waving a hand.