Crushed Slavers

[Corwin]

"You charmer~" Seira giggles, as mint tea pours into their cups from a floating teapot while a cream pitcher moves to be within easy reach of Jannel. A three tiered service tray shimmers into view in the center of the table, filled with sandwiches, scones and dessert, and Seira picks a cake for her to have with her tea.

[Anastasia]

Jannel has a long drink of it, smiling back. Then, "May I be frank?"

[Corwin]

"I rather appreciate that, yes."

[Anastasia]

"I followed Gond until I could not follow him anymore." Jannel drinks deep from his tea and then puts it down, "I have grown to see that as much as the divine is primal forces, they are also people. Hidden beneath vast power and religious fervor, but they are people. Before I continue, I wish to know what sort of person you are, Seira Aryn." He meets your eyes with his own, his gaze unyielding as adamantine.

[Corwin]

"It's certainly true that we are equal parts people and ideas," Seira agrees. "I often tell people that, but regrettably few truly understand it. In my case, the ideas were given form by the life I've lived and the goals I set before me. I believe that people are generally good, and that knowledge is key in getting them to make the right decisions. I believe in getting out there and helping, preferring direct action where possible. I believe in hope, and that means I am a gambler on Tymora's level. If there is a chance to make a difference, no matter how slim, I try to seize it. If there is a battle for a soul, I want to try my best to save it. The odds are just numbers that I try to overcome, if I need to overcome oppression or break the chains of bondage of the usual suspects."

[Anastasia]

That gets a bit of a smirk, "Strong words. Show me. Those convictions don't come from somewhere, show me where they came from in that mortal life of yours."

[Corwin]

"There was no single defining moment," Seira responds, shaking her head. "I've merely taken on a great deal of responsibility from a young age, and kept involved in events where failure was not an option. A dragon attacked my adoptive home town, and I had to find the means to triumph over it. The neighboring empire wished to invade us, so I pursued diplomacy as much as I could, and sought the means to stop the invasion in its tracks when that failed. The judgement of the heretical God-King fell on my shoulders, and I've done my best towards ensuring he was defeated for good. Powerful liches struck at my world, and I had to find a way to defend it despite only being able to protect one place at a time. The children of Androlynne... that story you might be aware of, and it was a culmination of my mortal efforts, of seeking that elusive one percent of success amidst a sea of failure."

Seira sips at her tea, her expression solemn as she continues. "There were other moments that tempered me as well. When Shar's servants captured me, divesting me of magic and allies. When an abomination from Beyond threatened to break my mind. When a balor used my father to try and break me. I didn't give up, and I overcame those trials, first in the obvious sense and later by growing stronger from the experiences."

She gives Jannel a lopsided smile, asking him, "Now that I've shared this much, I believe you are obliged to reciprocate about your own life experiences."

[Anastasia]

"Please," Kascha murmurs, "You understand if we have questions about you."

Jannel raises his teacup as acknowledgement and then finishes it off, "I suppose the first is Why Gond?"

[Corwin]

"What lead you to him in the first place?"

[Anastasia]

"I was born in the harem of a powerful efreet," he begins, "Though I favor my mother's blood, that of a mortal woman. Her time in the harem was limited by her mortality. Father cast her aside and out, with only a few coins and her clothes to her name. We had nothing, the streets hostile and anything beyond the city lethal to us." His voice is low, "We found a corner of an alley, a place to live in where we could scrape by while mother....provided." The word is heavy, meaning rotten. "I was only five or six years old, unable to provide and growing hungrier as mother struggled. Yet amid this she was firm: Do not steal, do not take. It is wrong and they will cut your hands off when they catch you."

A sour smile at that, "Hunger has a way of eroding even the sternest fears. I passed by a building every day that smelled of stew and food, a private residence as cheery as any in the blighted City of Brass. Open windows, bright colors seen within and the few people who came and went were dressed well and happy. Mostly foreigners but even a few efreet came and went."

A pause again, "One day, hungry and tired after mother had little to give me, I passed by. On the windowsill was a cooling meat pie, the smell of it irresistible. I stared at it and I knew I could resist no longer. I snuck towards it, as obviously sneaky as only a child can be. I got under it and reached - and my arms were grabbed, pulling me up and into the house. I screamed, I cried, I begged for him not to pass me to the authorities."

Here Jannel lingers, pauses. He smiles, banishing his sour look with a real smile. "He was built like a smith, all muscle and bearded. He had these hands, biggest I've ever seen, calloused and rough fingertip to wrist. He took me in them and laughed and said that by Gond, his hungry child trap had worked. He had been watching me for some time...and rather than simply inviting me in, set up a trap to get my attention. Gondsmen can't even help a starving child without over engineering it." His words are fond, his smile wistful. "Do you understand where this story leads me, Seira?"

[Corwin]

"An apprenticeship, it logically follows," she notes with a smile of her own. "How many hungry children traps did you end up engineering?"

[Anastasia]

Kascha adds in as she listens, her own face showing her happiness, "That was good of him. He could have ignored you."

"Cragen wasn't in the business of ignoring those in need." Jannel refutes that as he sits back, "A fair few in my own days over the years. He gave my mother and I a place and a chance, so who would I follow but Gond? I am a skilled creator and crafter of many things, yet I was called to make aid for others. I became a roving champion seeing to evils and uplifting those in poverty. Do you know how Gond's clergy received me in the mortal world I chose to serve?'"

[Corwin]

"I'm afraid my knowledge is entirely academic, here, so I'd like to hear about it."

[Anastasia]

"Ahem," Jannel clears her throat, "Why are you giving that money away? It could fund more research!" A beat, "Donate? But my workshop needs expanding." Another beat, "Orphans aren't going to solve this engineering problem!"

Scowling, "Far too many of Gond's chosen lose sight of what's important in favor of pure creation. Not all are like that, there are the Cragens who haven't lost themselves in indulgences." A sudden, sharp SLAM as his fist hits the table, "But damn it, there were too many! Too many! I grew a legendary hero in my world, spreading the word of Gond even I clashed with many of his faithful. A champion and you know what they did? They planned against me! They saw me as promoting a heresy. So terrible was my actions that it caused a schism in that world's church, only solved by Gond himself appearing through his avatar to tell them to cease."

The table is cracked where he it it, a steadying breath before he finishes his cup of tea off. Another breath and another. "So terrible was my desire to spend some money on helping those who need it instead of creation and research that some of the Gondsmen rebelled."

[Corwin]

"It might surprise you to learn that I ran into a similar issue on my world of birth," Seira muses. "In my case, it ended favorably as I managed to affect the direction of the faith, though I attribute that to Waukeen's silent agreement rather than anything else." Focusing on Jannel even as the table's surface ripples, reforming it, Seira asks, "It's not quite about the donations, is it? There are so many ways to help people, to uplift society. Even a sizeable tithe pales in comparison to a wondrous device that brings limitless, clean water to the people of the desert. But that, too, is often considered a foolish occupation, a hobby more than anything else."