Okay Moore, while the others go off you basically have free time. What's your plan here?
Seira, Barachiel and Honeydip are unavailable, everyone else is for the moment.
Moore will go find Nasir. Anyone who wants to accompany him for that is welcome to do so. I imagine Cresiel and Jetina probably will want to.
Cresiel falls in step with you, as you see Jetina getting into a conversation with the other healer there.
"I will go with you," he says, a statement rather than a request.
"Of course." Moore says.
It shouldn't be too much of a difficult matter to find Nasir, but he'll ask around if he needs to!
Diplo. This is mostly a trivial roll, but give me one just in case.
Take 10 for 100.
The servant is an efreet, one dressed impeccably. He bows deeply to you, "Duke Moore," he announces in a rich voice, standing outside in one of the man vast, beautifully decorated halls in this palace. "Commander Madani is on the grounds. I believe he intends to ride one of the Sultan's Reserve nightmares."
"Is Commander Madani a fan of riding?" Moore asks.
"I cannot rightly say, Duke, but he has often ridden when a guest of the Sultan here." The servant says. "Shall I inquire with the Royal Stable Master?"
"Yes, if you can arrange a ride for myself, I would appreciate it." Moore says. He looks over at Cresiel. "Would you care to join?"
Cresiel shakes his head mutely, "A mount that is not a nightmare. No nightmare would bear you willingly. I will follow on wing."
Moore smiles. "It sounds like you don't have a lot of faith in my ability to handle animals."
"A nightmare is not an animal, the are as intelligent as a man and vile as a fiend," Cresiel declares, "Do not be deceived. They may serve as mounts willingly, but they are not mere horses."
"So little faith." Moore says, with some dejection. He turns back to the servant. "Could you escort us to the stables, please? I'd like to take a look for myself."
"I apologize," Cresiel murmurs, "I did not mean to impinge your skills." He bows his head to you as the servant begins to lead you along.
Moore smiles and gives Cresiel a pat on the shoulder. "I forgive you."
He follows along with the servant!
The Royal Stables are massive - full of wide berths for nightmares and other beasts. You barely get a glimpse because the Stable Master awaits you just outside.
"Duke, Sir," The both of you get a greeting, his face seemingly carved from stone. A mountain of an efreet, all muscle and sour looks. "You wish to ride?"
"Yes, please." Moore says. "I'll be riding, my friend here will be following on his own."
"What sort of mount do you prefer?" The Stable Master asks, looking down.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to try a nightmare." Moore says. "I understand they're intelligent creatures, so I'd like to try my knack for this."
The Royal Stable Master throws his head back and laughs. A long laugh, jets of fire coming from his mouth, "As you wish, Duke," he says, "I did not expect to see one of Belial's brood with a solar."
Moore just smiles. "Call it a sign of the changing times, then."
Laughing all the while, the Stable Master goes and returns with a nightmare.
It is coal black, the size of a pony. It has a red mane and eyes that burn the same. Smoke slowly trickles from its nostrils. It gazes on at you like death. "Here, the smallest nightmare we have, a foal."
Moore simply smiles back at the creature. "Do you mind if I ride you?" Moore asks.
Take 10 on Bluff, for 91. He's bluffing his alignment to be lawful evil.
Take 10 on Diplomacy for 100.
Make a level check. That's 1d20+ your hit dice, which should be 31.
[15:36] <Nephrite> roll 1d20+31
[15:36] <Penuche> Nephrite invokes Penuche's magic: < 35 > [d20=4]
The nightmare snorts, smoke rising as it looks at you. Somehow you have a sense of confusion from it, but it makes no move to attack you.
Then Cresiel steps forward slightly, meeting the nightmare's vision.
> roll 1d20+44 Cresiel Intimidate
<Penuche> Kotono invokes Penuche's magic: < 58 > [d20=14]
Can't beat that so no roll.
The nightmare whinnies and whines loudly, skittering back and towards you, away from Cresiel.
Cresiel says nothing else, merely staring the nightmare down.
The nightmare quickly hides behind you, as if your little pixie body can protect it from the looming solar.
"There, there." Moore says, giving the nightmare a gentle pat. "I won't let him hurt you."
Not today, anyway.
Moore moves to mount on top of it!
If nothing else, it'll probably come as a sight to behold for Nasir.
There is a sense of wrongness to this, a sense of things being awry. At the same time you are able to mount the nightmare successfully, no resistance to your taking saddle on it.
The Royal Stable Master shakes his head and laughs, "Amazing."
"You shouldn't underestimate us small folk." Moore says with a smile. "Can you direct me to where Commander Nasir is?" He asks.
He takes a deep breath mentally.
Things will be fine -- for now he needs to act the part for the role he's been given.
He nods to Cresiel in the meantime.
Thus you ride out into the lands just beyond. Rougher land to be sure and atop one rocky crag is Nasir. He is on a magnificent stallion of a nightmare, bigger than yours in every way, several times over. He seems content to look over the landscape, taking it all in.
Moore will just ride towards Nasir!
Nasir turns his massive black steed as you approach. "I did not think you so wise as to resort to dominating a worthy steed."
"I can't say it was my first choice." Moore admits. "But this is an auspicious time we live in, the divine walk among us and on prime worlds, old enemies become new friends, you know." A smile and a shrug afterwards. "I wanted to respect your culture while I'm here, the same as I'd expect you'd do if this meeting took place in Celestia."
Nasir turns away at that as Cresiel looms, "Meaningless." Nasir declares, "The way of Creation is that all power flows from strength. You make token gestures of respect because of our strength, nothing more."
"Unless I'm misremembering our last encounter, wasn't it one of your entourage that perished to our strength?" Moore asks. He isn't trying to be hostile in the question, but it will probably end up coming off that way.
"A tactical retreat," Nasir says with a hint of sourness, "As you yourself employed in that battle."
"No... no I'm pretty sure he died." Moore corrects him. "I remember taking all of his stuff. But you're right, you did indeed run away, after all your talk of strength, and, if I remember correctly, 'the hand of oblivion,' was it?"
A pause before he continues. "I didn't come here to insult you, Commander Nasir. But if you're going to respect someone else because of their strength, shouldn't you respect the one who leads the forces who caused yours to rout?"
There is a pause here, a heavy pause. Cresiel floats forward ever so slightly, a hand on his weapon.
"I do not respect an amateur who got lucky," Nasir bites out, voice rising.
Moore takes in a breath. "Commander Nasir." His tone is different -- stern, commanding.
"I don't know which is more strange to me; that you as a high-ranking officer in the Grand Sultan's army cannot respect the strength of another foe, or that you'd actually admit to someone that you were bested by an amateur." He says, with a shake of his head. "So what does it say that I respect you, even after losing to us? Am I fool for respecting someone of lesser strength?"
The look you get is burning as Commander Nasir spurs his mount on, "I say that you can go fuck a marilith's writhing snake cunt." With that he nudges his nightmare along, which takes off at a fast trot.
Moore looks over at Cresiel and throws his hands into the air. "And I went through all of this trouble to be a hospitable guest, too."
For whatever reason, that makes Cresiel smile.
"The unworthy part of me considers that a second triumph over him," he observes, "There is always something gratifying in seeing an enemy lose his composure."
"I think Zaphkiel himself would agree with that attitude." Moore says.
He turns the nightmare back towards the stables. "Maybe we can find someone less ignorant to talk to." He says.
Cresiel nods at that and follows, as...
Next move?
Let's ask around and see who wants to actually talk to us! Maybe Eblis' attendee (but probably not).
Take 10 for 100 on Diplo to go chat people up.
EDIT: Going to use the -20 modifier to avoid any suspicion from doing so. They're there as diplomats, but it's let's not be totally overt about it. That makes the check 80.
Prioritizing anyone in particular?
We'll just see who we find! Maybe people who happen to be closer to the Grand Sultan.
The first one you come on is Dustfire.
He sits in a relatively small viewing room, watching the ocean of fire. A nude brachina kneels before him, gently massaging his feet, boots off. "Oh great master Dustfire," the devil purrs in tones of pure lust, "You have a guest."
"I heard, woman." He merely glances at her and she rises, bowing deeply before leaving, head bowed and submissive.
Take 10 on K:P for 94, what do I know about Dustfire?
Moore gives a polite nod. "Lord Dustfire. I hope I'm not interrupting."
You already made this check, so repost from the last thread.
The solar is Dustfire, a fallen who serves Eblis. A sadist, he enjoys burning mortals and reducing them to ash. A natural fire mage of great power and skill. While not one of the Sundered Suns, he is nonetheless a servant of Eblis.
Dustfire turns - and he and Cresiel regard each other silently a moment before his attention turns to you. "She is no consequence. Speak."
so I did. Who am I to remember insignificant solars??
"I wished to speak to you of your thoughts on this treaty." Moore says, simply.
"Politics," Dustfire, a sneer as he adds, "Gesturing, posturing between sides before war." He spits to the side, "You bring that fool Barachiel to-"
"If you speak poorly of him again..." Cresiel says, calm but firmly. "I will not entertain blasphemy."
"Pah, words mean nothing in the end, less than the wind they ride on," Dustfire doesn't even blink at that gaze.
"Cresiel." Moore says, raising a hand gently in his direction.
He turns back to Dustfire. "I see. So you think there's no reason for peace between different ideologies, even in the face of someone like Shar?" He asks.
"Creation is war. There is only war here and can only be war," Dustfire declares, "The promises of the Heavens are empty lead and iron, ones that entice the fodder that wages much of this war - mortals. Let them burn in the flames of war."
Moore makes a non-committal grunt of acknowledgement.
"Do you think your armies are sufficient to defeat Shar?" He asks.
"Shar will burn as anyone else," Dustfire's answer is short.
"You've got confidence, I'll give you that." Moore says with a small smile. "I don't think that's a realistic view, though. If you only stand alone, then you only have yourself to rely on... which works, until it doesn't work anymore. What happens when your conviction is tested and that isn't enough? I have allies to call on for strength, friends who I can rely on."
"My conviction has been tested," Dustfire retorts, "Here I am."
Moore smiles. "Fair enough. I appreciate your indulgence, Lord Dustfire."
He turns to go with Cresiel!
Cresiel shakes his head. "A moment, please."
Moore hesitates for a moment.
He simply nods.
"Your convictions have been tested and here you are," Cresiel echos, "Fallen." The solar sits opposite his fellow (fallen) solar, "If you only wanted war, there are endless crusades serving Raziel, Tyr or the others of the Triad. It is not only war that brought you here."
Moore turns to Cresiel fully, then to Dustfire to see where this goes.
"They deserve to burn," Dustfire says, a hand balling into a fist. "Worthless things that think they can fight. Are you happy now, solar?"
"No," Cresiel shakes his head, "You speak a lie you wish to believe is the truth. Moore, you reach out to find the truth. Tell him."
"Mortals aren't as insignificant as you think." Moore says, quietly. "Doesn't the very existence of people like Seira or Alicia prove that they can reach heights so far above anything anyone ever imagined?" He asks.
"Your view... Eblis' view... is that mortals aren't significant, that they can never become anything worthy. This age we live in now... the time we live in, shows how wrong of an idea that is. The fact that you're even here, that Eblis even sent you here, to a peace negotiation between Celestia and the efreet of fire... doesn't that show you how different things really can be?" He says, again, keeping his voice low.
"Nothing is absolute in Creation. I think you realize that, but don't know how to accept it as a truth yet." He adds. "Don't fall prey to the pride of the past."
Gimme Diplo.
Take 10 for 100.
"Foolish," Dustfire declares, "Do you think that means anything?"
"I know it does," Cresiel adds quietly.
Moore just smiles. "Is it foolish to change one's opinion when presented with new information?"
"I know all I need," Dustfire says, "The battlefield of war has taught me what I need to know."
"So you think you're done learning?" Moore asks. "A lot could be said for someone who isn't willing to experience anything else because they think they're perfect."
"Lord Beelzebub is a figure to respect," Dustfire retorts right back. "He has learned to be perfect."
Moore smiles. "I can respect his perfection, too, even if I don't agree with all of it. But we're not talking about Beelzebub. He isn't here." Moore says, with a gesture around. "You have only your own eyes to see the world around you."
Cresiel frowns deeply, sharply. "Moore," he says it as a single word, a heavy word.
"At least you have moral flexibility to not be as blind as he is," Dustfire says, "Get to a point."
"My point, Lord Dustfire, is that if you remain inflexible in your views, you can never attain the perfection that you think you aspire to." He says. "If you learn nothing from the experience of being here, then I hope you learn this: The future of Creation lies in the hands of mortals, it lies in mortals achieving greater things than anyone thinks is possible."
Moore clears his throat. "There are those that would never have seen a fey as working within the halls of Celestia's greatest archons. My point is this: Everything is impossible, until it isn't anymore. Please consider that while you're here."
He looks to Cresiel with an apologetic smile that seems to ask if he's done here.
Cresiel turns and goes without further commend, Dustfire watching the two of you as Cresiel leaves.
Moore turns and follows after Cresiel, and once he's away enough;
"I'm not going to lower myself to their standards of insults of the people they respect, even considering how abhorrent they might be." Moore says. "I apologize if it was offensive to you, nonetheless."
"The truth does not hide itself because it is politically convenient," Cresiel says stiffly, "Moore, Beezlebub is cut from the same cloth as Taelfagn or Lixer. Are you content praising such a being?"
Moore shakes his head. "I think you're misunderstanding. I am not praising them because I think they're figures that deserve such, but you can't deny their accomplishments or the paths they took to get there, twisted as they are. To ignore them or pretend they're invalid makes us as weak as they are, it makes us fall prey to the same way of thinking, of exclusion because it doesn't meet the way we think."
A smile afterwards. "It's fine if you disagree with my way of thinking, I just think... mm... I think if we choose to not understand, or choose not to see things except in black and white, that we may miss an opportunity to help make a situation better, that's all."
"They're and they've fallen far to reach the bottom of the pile of rotting filth that is Hell," Cresiel agrees with that much, expression stern, "Yes, I agree that Beelzebub is a superb murderer for all the rivals he has dispatched. Taelfagn's enslavement of Lifasa was an accomplishment that is a feather in his cap. Some things are black and white, Moore, and the sins of such beings are the blackest of blacks."
"Then I'll be the eternal optimist." Moore says with a bright smile. "What would you do if Eblis eventually atoned for what he did?"
"Thanks Chronias for such a miracle," Cresiel says without missing a beat. "Because it would come in spite of his eons of deeds, not because of them."
"I know." Moore says. "But up or down, the paths are paved by your own actions. Come, let's see who else we can find."
Take 10 for 80 again, using the "avoid suspicion" part of things.
You end up admiring a portrait of a tall, strapping efreet. He is barechested and muscular, wearing simple pants and with a scimitar at his side. Fire is all around him, broken armies as he stands there, triumphant. His expression is one of unearthly determination, as if he can see all of Creation's problems and solve through sheer willpower.
"Duke Moore, Cresiel," Vel Custos strides up, Cerulean Joy a step behind him.
"Ah!" Moore turns and offers a bow. "Authorities." He greets them.
"Duke," Cerulean Joy smiles, "How do you like it here?"
"You know, I think my time in Mineral spoiled me. I can't see riches like this I just can't be impressed. Well, Jovar is cheating, of course, but..." Moore smiles after that. "This all just seems... fake, in some ways, to me. It doesn't seem like this is how it genuinely is around here, if that makes sense."
"It's a pretty mask over an ugly face," Vel Custos remarks, a hand going to his own face.
"Beloved," Cerulean Joy murmurs, a hand going up to join his. "It's to make an impression, not to show the truth. As my beloved husband would say, much like his own golden mask."
Moore nods.
"That makes sense." Moore agrees. "How about the both of you? Do you normally attend these sorts of... meetings?" He asks. "My apologies for my ignorance on the subject."
"When we are called on. Our duties focus more on Celestia than matters beyond it, but such things do often reach beyond Celestia." Cerulean Joy explains.
Moore nods.
"It's been... interesting being here, as part of all of this." Moore says. "I know I have, ah... unorthodox opinions when it comes to most things in Celestia, so it's... refreshing to be able to be here." He adds with a smile. "Even if it's really only because the Grand Sultan still thinks my actions were motivated by General Jaela's from Aurora."
"Really?" Vel Custos turns to that, "Why?"
"Well, I know Jaela had started a bit of her own offensive against Fire and the efreet." Moore explains. "She even managed a pact between a... I think he was a primal fire elemental?" A shake of his head. "I'm not sure on the details as they stand now. But this isn't the first time that my prior history with Aurora has been called out, Nasir had mentioned it in passing when he attacked me some weeks ago. So I imagine part of the reason the Grand Sultan asked for me to be here was to hopefully hear about Aurora's plans for Fire."
"Aurora has no plans for fire, the last I heard," Cerulean Joy remarks, "Has this changed, Duke?"
Moore shakes his head. "Not to my knowledge. But even if they did, I don't think I'd want to know about them. That way they don't have to be dragged into anything unnecessarily."
"Ah, then because they thought you working for Aurora, they assumed it was Aurora's next mission?" Vel Custos asks. "A simple misunderstanding of allegiance and motive."
"I think that's part of it." Moore agrees. "I suppose it speaks to the skill of Aurora and Celestia's information sectors that they don't have much of an idea of things." Moore says with a smile.
Vel Custos nods slightly, "Good. Let them wonder."
"Let them wonder,' Cresiel echos, "Information is so often power."
Moore nods. "Agreed. Hm, do you two think there's anyone else here that may be worth trying to talk to to gather that very thing?"
"That Commander you have history with," Vel Custos replies, "I mean to go talk to him soon."
"Good luck." Moore says. "He seems like the type who'd cut his nose off to spite his face. He didn't like it when I told him he should respect the strength of the person who beat him in battle."
With a tight smile, "Evil and braggarts cannot stand that, and he strikes me as both," Vel Custos says, turning to go at that.
Cerulean Joy smiles, "May you walk under the light above, Moore."
Moore gives them both a bow. "Thank you, both of you."
Once they are gone, "Are there any others you wish to talk to?" Cresiel asks.
"Do you think there's anyone here we even feel like talking to?" Moore asks. "Ultimately, even if we make a few minor waves here and there, it all comes down to what they're talking about with the Sultan."
Cresiel merely replies, "You're right. I admit I've had my fill of talking to them rather than smiting them."
Moore snorts with a grin. "Perhaps we should just walk around then and see what we can observe. Diplomats are one thing, but you can usually see a lot more than you hear if you're looking carefully enough."
Just going to see what you can find in that case?
Yep, casual walking around, paying attention for ... hmm, let's say things that may be out of place, or overhearing things. That sort of stuff.
Perception check and a d100.
Take 10 for 71.
[16:18] <Nephrite> roll 1d100
[16:18] <Penuche> Nephrite invokes Penuche's magic: < 71 > [d100=71]
No relation.
Scary!
You wander a time, passing by a gallery of art. As you walk by, a voice carries out, "Be quiet, you fool!"
Moore raises an eyebrow to Cresiel and gestures that they get a bit closer.
It's time for some good-old fashioned eavesdropping!
Cresiel floats slightly off the ground as...
Stealth.
Take 10 for 59. Let's see how aware these people are!
> roll 1d20+11 Cresiel
<Penuche> Kotono invokes Penuche's magic: < 17 > [d20=6]
Opposed Perception check hidden since DM being evil.
You fly onward, but the soft swish of Cresiel's wings is audible.
"I told you, I saw it," The other voice, a man's strong voice, is heard. "With my own two eyes!"
Moore continues on towards the two men -- he's curious about whatever it is, regardless of whether they get heard or not on the way!
You turn in. Two efreet are there - one in white pants and doublet, while the other is wearing robes and a turban.
Both are also looking your way. "Ah, Duke Moore," the one in the doublet calls, "Good morning."
"Good morning." He answers. "I couldn't help but overhear there's apparently been a bit of a spectacle?" An easy smile afterwards. "It isn't very often that I have the honor of coming to these parts, so if there's something remarkable going on, I'd hate to miss it."
"I don't think you could have," The efreet replies, "I heard you rode a nightmare. A pixie riding a nightmare!"
Moore just smiles, maybe a little more. "It seemed like the polite thing to do, given the circumstances. I don't think Commander Nasir appreciated it as much as I had hoped, though." He lets out a small sigh at that. "Regardless, I truly hope, for whatever it's worth, that us being able to meet here won't be a one-time occurrence... for whatever that means to you." Another smile.
"You do make an entertaining guest," the efreet agrees, as Cresiel lingers just behind you, arms crossed and looking onward at them, staring a hole at them.
Moore just smiles. "I know I may be in the minority, but I think it could be a historic occasion if we could broker peace. A more... permanent one, rather than one where we simply glare at each other across vast distances."
A nod to both of them. "Please pardon the interruption." He turns to go!
No resistance at that, Cresiel following. "They likely think you to be a former Duke soon, the way you sound. Is that intentional?" Cresiel asks.
"It isn't." Moore says. "I'm... trying to help them understand that their preconceptions about people outside of their culture may not be what they've been taught. I have my own beliefs about things... but ultimately, even if I want peace, if the Sultan decides he doesn't want to listen to Lady Seira and Lord Barachiel's demands, then..." He shakes his head.
Cresiel nods minutely, "Then it's all for naught."
"Sometimes I think I'm too optimistic about being able to help people." Moore says. "But then I think about stories of people like Antenora, and I get reminded that anyone can be brought out of a pit if they have a hand to help them."
"So they can - but they have to be willing to do it themselves." Cresiel says. He take a breath, "Moore. You can't save someone who isn't willing to be saved. No one can walk to Mount Celestia on someone else's back."
"I know that." Moore says with a grin. "You don't have to treat me like I'm an acolyte. You can't change someone's nature over night, but... I think if given the opportunity, and when I say that I mean over time, there'd be at least one efreet who wouldn't follow a path to damnation. Do you disagree?"
"I don't," Cresiel agrees, "It's why we keep going, is it not? To save those who can be saved, be they human or infernal?"
Moore nods. "I don't expect that Commander Nasir is going to be knocking on my door anytime soon, but... I hope, maybe... maybe that efreet who saw me riding a nightmare might go 'Maybe I'll try and understand their culture' someday. Maybe not. But I have to try."
"More than the culture, more of not being a monstrous evil," Cresiel remarks, "Culture, hm?" he murmurs that to himself.
"You know, Nasir did say he was surprised I took all those books. I wonder why..." Moore says. "I guess he isn't much of the type to read."
"That or he thought it petty," Cresiel says, "Which is nonsense."
"It's fine, I don't know that he and I can see eye-to-eye anyway." Moore says. "We'll just beat him the next time we find him on the battlefield."
Cresiel nods to that and...
Next move?
We can just keep walking for the time being. Or check on Xandra and Jetina and Araphan who's name I think I butchered.
Gimme a d100, then.
[22:35] <Nephrite> roll 1d100
[22:35] <Penuche> Nephrite invokes Penuche's magic: < 33 > [d100=33]
You find Jetina and Xandra soon after, walking down a hall full of statues of past efreet. "Moore," Xandra greets, "Cresiel. Is all progressing?"
"We had a chance to..." Moore rolls his eyes. "See Commander Nasir. He's just as much of a charmer as he was before. How about the two of you?"
"He's charming, isn't he?" Jetina agrees, smiling faintly. "We've been wandering, talking. Everyone's waiting on the Sultan, Seira and Barachiel."
Moore nods. "Yes, that's been my assessment as well. I don't know that there's much we can do but wait. Even if they can't agree... I don't think we'd be attacked before we could leave."
"So then, what do we do now?" Jetina asks.
"I'm not sure there's much -to- do." Moore admits. "Unless we just wanted to walk around some more."
Ball is in your court here on todos or if you want to wait, Moore.
Let's go talk to the person Romiel brought, I'm curious about a few backstory-related things with him and now is as good a time as any to ask.
Adalan is found resting in your rooms, sitting by a window with his eyes closed.
"Rest helps calm the mind when the world around you is a tempest."
"Then, I hope you'll forgive me for disturbing yours." Moore says. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
"Ask," Adalan offers, "Ask whatever your heart desires."
"During our meeting, you mentioned to the Grand Sultan about Al-Bakrit. Would you mind explaining that?" He asks.
"It was a long time ago," Adalan says, "Over a hundred thousand years ago. At the time, I served in detached duty with instructions to learn by traveling the planes. I was part of a mercenary group who traveled to Fire, the small town of Al-Bakrit sought defenders. We thought it was from natural predators and hazards of fire, but we were mistaken. The city was contested between two powerful efreet houses and tension boiled over to a pitched battle. One both sides heavily reinforced and called in further assets, while we were stuck in the middle."
"Was the Sultan leading one of those houses? I mean, as you said, he obviously wasn't the Sultan at the time, but I'm curious how far back his history may go." Moore asks.
"He was commanding one of the forces there," Adalan agrees, "It was a bloodbath so great the Grand Sultan of the time intervened to end it. I was one of the few survivors. So was he. The last few battles were cataclysmic. He saved my life and in return I healed him of lethal wounds."
Moore looks off to the side. "So now, he has the chance to avert another cataclysmic war... but I wonder if the years of leading have made him blind to those atrocities he saw so long ago."
"I doubt it," Adalan says, "He fed forces into that until the end. He was willing to spend lives to accomplish his goals."
"Hm." Moore taps his chin. "So what if his goal now is to avoid war? I wonder what he would be willing to spend?" A shake of his head.
"At any rate, I hear you're a healer, like Jetina is? Did you two develop any new magic while I was gone?" He grins a bit at that.
"We didn't have a chance, but we could," Adalan admits, "She is a natural."
"Her healing is without compare," Cresiel seconds.
"I wonder if that's what her stint there was meant to foster..." Moore murmurs to himself.
He looks up and clears his throat. "It sounds like you've had a great deal of history with healing, Adalan. I'm sure you've developed one or two of you own, haven't you?"
"I have," Adalan agrees, "Adalan's Poison Purge is my favorite."
"How does that differ from the standard spell to neutralize poison?" Moore asks.
"It constantly repairs and purges poison for the duration," Adalan says, "Such as a poison that clouds your wits recovering as well as being purged from the body."
"Oh, interesting." Moore nods. "Jetina, weren't you working on a spell that helped reinforce someone's health temporarily?"
I can't remember the spell and don't see it in the SC but maybe it's there and I'm blind. I swear Jetina was making a spell that gave a bunch of temporary HP.
Long story short: I didn't put it out since I mentioned I was tentative on it.
"I was," Jetina shakes her head, "How does the spell work?"
"Well," Adalan begins, and as they talk shop, Cresiel clears his throat. "Moore."
Moore smiles and goes over to Cresiel!
He looks at him expectantly!
"Nothing, merely let them work," Cresiel admits, "I'm a student of healing magic and half the time Jetina's theories can befuddle me."
"Very well." Moore says. "I guess there really isn't anything to do except to wait, then."
Pretty much since it looks like Seira's thread is reaching a climax. I'm going to pause you briefly for that to resolve. If for some reason that changes I'll get you moving again.
It is not long before Barachiel returns. "We are leaving," he announces, "Negotiations have failed."
Moore frowns.
"Very well." He says as he stands up.
Murmurs at that but Barachiel says, "We will discuss it when we are back. Let us not overstay our welcome."
Anything else to do here or ready to go back?
Let's get going!
Once back on the beaches of Lunia, Barachiel speaks, "It will be war," he announces. Negotiations failed. All of you are to return to your duties and immediately begin to prepare for further conflicts. Especially those who reside in Lunia, you will be receiving further forces for defense."
Vel Custos bows, "It will be as you say. Lunia shall stand against any assault."
Moore nods, and then speaks up.
"Lord Barachiel, if you'd like me involved in any diplomatic endeavors for this, please let me know. Otherwise, Hope's Landing is protected and safe, so if anyone needs an emergency respite, they are welcome there." He says.
"I will spread my will to you when it is right. For now, return and prepare. Do not leave Lunia until further orders," Barachiel declares, "If there is an emergency that requires you to, send me."
Moore nods and will take his friends back to Hope's Landing!
Once back, you find the skies are cluttering already. Flights of angels and archons can be seen, forces gathering all about as you travel back home. At Hope's Landing Kaja waits for you, "Back?" he calls, from atop the wall, waving, "How did it go?"
"Is it not obvious from all the hubbub?" Moore asks as he gestures around.
"It sounds like we're going to get our chance to get that armor off of Nasir in one way or another." He adds. "I don't know how the negotiations went exactly, but... it looks like we've got a war on our hands."
Kaja exhales and then smiles, all sharp teeth, "Good. Let them come and offer up their treasures to us. The bloodstains come out with magic."
Moore nods. "Did Melia return, by any chance?" He asks. "If not, I should probably recall her and have her wait on standby."
"She's in right now," Kaja says.
"We should call in any allies we can," Cresiel says, "Mother is here, that is one."
"I want to wait until we have official word before we do anything." Moore says. "But when the time is right, I'll contact Lord Crystalle, The Padisha, Aurora and... a few others I can think of."
Question: Romiel's fortress is in Lunia, right? Or is it somewhere else?
It is in Lunia, yes.
"Cresiel, go with Jetina to your father's fortress." Moore says, with a turn to Jetina. "I want you to trade knowledge with your new healer friend, we may need some extra spells in our arsenal for the coming struggles."
"In the meantime, Xandra, Kaja, we don't need to worry about anything inside this fortress, so just make sure anyone around here is indeed inside the walls. We'll expand them if we have to." He says. "I'm going to go talk to Melia."
He goes to do just that!
"One point," Cresiel speaks up, "I may be able to draw on a few irregulars from Aurora. Not the active force, but a few who chose to retire but find themselves growing restless. Shall I?"
"Yes." Moore agrees. "Or at least inform them. If they're no longer actively working with Aurora then they can make their own decisions."
"I will draw what forces I can, as well as support. Wood will get fellow canine companionship, perhaps." Cresiel agrees to that.
Anything else to do here or going to see Melia?
Nope, I'll trust them to gather cool new spells while I go chat with Melia.
New topic time.