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- The Fulcrux of Terentia.
- The walls of this chamber span out massively, encasing this area in a protective cocoon of cavern.
- White marble lines the ground, covering each inch of the cavern floor and rising half-way up the
- walls before blending in with the natural texture of the cave. Many pillars rise up in different
- areas of the chamber, each column of marble etched with the same symbol: A set of scales crafted
- from two criss-crossed swords. A translucent fog of white energy clings close to the ground, rolling
- over the marble floor in patches, covering and uncovering various areas of the chamber. A single
- pillar appears vaguely translucent and is larger than most in the area. A square column of marble
- rises here, surrounded by a glowing white aura of energy.
- There are no obvious exits.
- Avaris strides across the marble floor with a purposeful gait, the arcing talons of
- his huge feet snapping upon the polished surface like blades probing a wall for weakness - and
- finding none. Coming to a halt before the shrine, he executes a precise, flawless salute.
- Kneeling humbly, you press your palms together before you and close your eyes momentarily as you
- pray devoutly to Terentia, the Even Bladed, "[A cool, respectful presence makes itself known with
- disciplined courtesy, preceding the choral, layered voice that speaks in an even, measured cadence.]
- Greetings, Even Bladed. I will be brief, as You are no doubt busy. I ask for Your guidance in the
- matter of Lady Li-Varili, and have a few questions for You, if You are inclined to grant them. If
- You prefer, I can send them via letter, so that I do not take up Your time in person. May Your
- blades be ever keen, and strike true.". ((The irony of this last will become apparent later.))
- Avaris dips his head in a brisk nod, turning upon his bladed heel, and making his
- way from the Fulcrux.
- ((Later in the week))
- As you sit here, beneath the tree, and think to yourself, your compound-eyes catch something amiss.
- A pair of icy green eyes, disembodied and hovering, staring at you.
- Avaris's antennae twitch towards the eyes, eliciting an immediate response, as he
- rises smoothly to his feet and snaps off a crisp, precise salute.
- The eyes regard you, your salute, and simply blink away.
- Avaris remains at attention for a time after the eyes disappear, and only relaxes
- into a moderately more relaxed stance once it is clear they will not return.
- A firm yet feminine voice cuts across the aether, "You sought audience with Me, Avaris?"
- Avaris dips his head in a firm nod. "I did, Even Bladed, if You have the time for
- it." He pauses, and then adds, "I imagine You can hear me if I speak within the relative privacy of
- my mind?"
- You catch the brief stench of something burning, the heat of metal: forgesmoke, which billows in and
- pools, pools, and pools into some vague figure and shape.
- Beneath a weeping willow tree.
- The rippling sound of flowing celestial waters echoes distantly from a healing shrine of Lantra
- nearby. This location is flooded with shallow, crystal clear water. A peaceful gurgling sound rises
- from a small stream, which meanders from the west and flows into a well-maintained pond, adding to
- the tranquil quality in the air. A rounded island of wet grass sits within the pond, connected to
- the bank by a narrow wooden footbridge which seems to have borne countless travelers to the little
- isle. The island itself is home to a large weeping willow tree, which struggles to stay upright as
- the myriad of branches and leaves droop down into the pond below. Small, brightly colored fish flit
- around the island, playfully nipping at the small drops of water which fall from the willow. Fresh
- breezes stir the branches of the ancient tree like soft sighs and whispers that pervade the island,
- making it an ideal spot to meditate. Terentia, the Even Bladed is here, slate-hued forgesmoke
- billowing around Her like a cloak as She surveys Her surroundings.
- You see exits leading southeast, southwest, and west.
- 12300h, 6300m, 6800e, 10p Bex-
- Coolly, Terentia, the Even Bladed says, "I can hear you in many, many ways, Avaris."
- Possessing a diminutive frame, the Goddess Terentia might be easily overlooked; however, Her
- commanding presence forces attention nonetheless upon the fact that She is a radiant immortal. What
- was once brilliant coral blue hair has paled to the most subtle silvery turquoise, its curls forming
- a loose crew cut with a close shave on either side of Her head. Icy green eyes are set in a steely
- gaze that are constantly and completely focused, seeming to never miss a single detail. Lithe
- muscles ripple gracefully beneath smooth, starlit skin; traces of previous battles remain, the cruel
- beauty of scarred god-flesh acting as both medal and wound of battle alike. Most significant amongst
- these scars are three trailing claw marks that cross Her left cheek and descend across Her chin and
- down Her long neck. While time seems to have taken the Goddess' appearance, Her lips form a tight,
- thin line that suggest the disposition of a more ageless being.
- She is wearing:
- a buckled weaponbelt of scaled silver-hide
- a skirt of bejeweled silver scalemail
- an illuminated halo hovering behind Terentia's head
- ornate, silver-plated greaves
- a gilded gauntlet of albescent metal
- an intricate breastplate of white edged in silver
- a pair of pearl-studded, winged sandals
- a delectable meatball pouch
- a mirrored vambrace.
- The Goddess stands before you, forgesmoke fluttering still behind Her like a cloak, Her arms
- unweaponed and folded behind Her back. Terentia regards you with the same stare that you experience
- moments ago, waiting for you to speak.
- Avaris lowers the sharp point of his chin in a slight nod. "Merely making certain.
- I did not wish to babble in my head without purpose." Studying Terentia quietly for a moment,
- unperturbed by the stare given in turn, as he asks, tone polite, "Are You well? I do not think I have
- ever asked it of You - But it is foolish to presume it."
- She chuckles, a low, breathy sound. "I find that question the most useless question in all Creation,
- Avaris," Terentia replies. "Does it matter if I am well? Whether I am happy or in despair matters
- little when twisted forces conspire, when the world seems constantly at odds with itself." She
- pauses, Her lip pulled to one side in consideration. "I am not. My intelligence reports speak of
- unrest within Celest, the re-emerging of a vile artifact long since gone, and the frustrations of
- trying to maintain a formation when many rest or refuse to do much in their time awake."
- Terentia rights Her expression, Her face once more becoming steel.
- The response sparks to life a glittering wave of motes of light within the seven,
- solid blue eyes that are set within Avaris's visored face, like a gem-studded helm catching the
- light - a smile, after a fashion, but a faint and short-lived one. He listens with a sober air,
- shifting his hands to clasp all four at the small of his back, beneath the overlapping cloak of his
- wings. "Wellness and morale matter, respectfully, Lady. A commander in ill form, emotional or
- otherwise, will not usually act the same as when they are hale of heart and mind." He shrugs, a
- modest rise and fall of spiked, ringed shoulders, the natural pauldrons brushing the thick ruff of
- his mane. "I know of what You speak, indeed. May I assist You in any fashion?"
- Terentia looks away briefly, as if She were hearing something distant and otherwise unhearable. When
- you speak, Her eyes flick back to you, listening. "Ahh, so you would assume that I, like a mortal
- commander, could be in ill form. Nasty thought there, Avaris." The Goddess smiles, but it's just a
- flash of teeth before She continues to speak. "Which issue would you think to assist Me with? You
- have three to choose from."
- Avaris angles his head aside, the lower left antenna shifting in a loose flick.
- "Stalwart and dauntless as You are, Even Bladed, I know that even Elders can be in ill form. I have
- felt it." A note of subtle humour enters the melody of his voice, nearly undetectable within the
- otherwise serious tones, as he assures, "I will not tell anyone, Lady. It would not do to have such
- nasty thoughts spreading." At the question, he responds promptly, utterly lacking in hesitation or
- uncertainty, "All of them, and any that You believe I may be of use in, besides."
- You think to yourself: The echoes of the Empyreal's memories, the countless scenes of loss, despair
- and poignant fallibility elicit a distant note of sorrow, before they are quietly put away once
- more.
- Continuing your playful, if not concerned, riposte, Terentia offers, "I suppose I would wonder which
- Elders you interact with, to have such thoughts about." Then, the intensity of Her focus bubbles
- over. "Ahh," is all She says, letting that lie. "Well, one, Avaris, you simply wouldn't be allowed.
- My Dagger's issues are not yours to deal with--those are Mine. The Seat, well, that is an issue, but
- I have yet to determine what would be the most appropriate course of action. But a weapon of that
- kind... is concerning." Then, She tilts Her head, the halo about Her head illuminating the softer
- contours of Her face. "It seems to Me that Celest is in a war with itself, unwilling to recognise
- that there are greater threats. But, I imagine there would be little to be done unless there was
- some routing out." She sniffs.
- You think to yourself: "Ones that guard Their hurts in different ways, but I know that even the
- finest armour is not proof against pain, no matter how well hidden and controlled. Ah, dear Lady, do
- You ever allow the mortals that love You to tend to Your heart, or do You keep them as distant as
- the Empyreal does?"
- The regard that Avaris places upon Terentia grows a shade more acute, though he
- does not pursue the matter of Elders further. Instead, he turns to the explanation at hand,
- listening intently until the Goddess finishes speaking. This time, he does not respond swiftly, the
- finger of one of his hidden hands tapping thoughtfully upon the hard carapace of his conjoined
- fists. "I see. So is there nothing that You would have me do for You?"
- "I did not appear before you, Avaris, for you to console Me." There is bite to Terentia's words this
- time. The almost playful quality of your conversation evaporating like seawater and leaving only
- salt. "At least for one of those tasks, namely Celest, I would have you continue to do what you are
- doing. You bring, much like My Falaine, a refreshing breeze to city. I would wonder when that breeze
- might become a stronger gale, so to speak." The Goddess retrieves Her arms from behind Her, folding
- them tightly across the chest. "I do hope these are not the only questions you sought to ask Me."
- Avaris lowers his head in a bow of mute contrition, the four bloody swathes of his
- antennae flattening at the sharpness in Terentia's words. The steady beat of his pointed finger
- impacting upon the armour of his chitin comes to an abrupt halt, and he maintains the posture as he
- replies, voice carefully neutral, armoured in cool formality. "They are not. I had intended to ask
- if You had insights on how to dispose of the Seat, or otherwise secure it - But You have pre-empted
- that. I ask for Your stance on the Lady of the Lagoons. My other question, I will save for last."
- You think to yourself: A flinch, followed quickly by a boiling, churning frustration directed at
- himself, a wordless seething at his apparently limitless ability to offend, hurt or insult anyone
- and anything with his blundering words.
- "Mmm," muses the Goddess as She considers that question. "My stance on Li-varili." Terentia tilts
- Her chin up, almost as if She were looking up at something in the sky, Her gaze traveling that
- direction. She speaks to you without looking: "I have not thought about Li-varili in a very, very
- long time. I remember Her a preening sort, vain, but mostly tied to Keltari, Her sibling. I have
- little to make of Her now. What do you make of Her?" Her eyes drift back to you, brow arched.
- A firm yet feminine voice rattles within your head: "You would need to do more to truly offend Me,
- Avaris. Unyoke yourself of feeling that way."
- While the majority of the stylised, light-forged eyes within Avaris's wings are
- respectfully downcast, there are a few, smaller ones that drift upwards to steal a glance at
- Terentia as he listens. The faint creaking of chitin protesting the duress of gradually applied
- force emanates from beneath the feathers that cover the kephera's back, his reply curt, flat. "A
- threat."
- You think to yourself: "As You say, Even Bladed."
- Terentia says nothing in response to your words, this revelation that you share with Her. Instead,
- Her lips purse. After a moment, a stretch of seconds, She orders, "Explain."
- "She is a Traitor in all but name. She sought to undergo the Rite of Abomination,
- but was denied it by the Enchantress' betrayal." Avaris reports, tone cold and hard, taught as a
- clenched gauntlet of steel. "The nereids are Hers. They are monstrous, vile creatures. She is much
- akin to them, in many ways. The mortals seem fascinated with Her, falling blindly to the allure She
- possesses while ignoring the obvious warnings." A slow, hissing breath is forced through the
- invisible seams of his face, and he continues, "Her time in the Seat has made Her worse. She is
- vicious, spiteful, and ambitious. She wants /everything/, Even Bladed, and I believe She will do
- anything to acquire it. There will be a mountain of corpses, and worse, I feel, before She is done,
- if She remains unopposed."
- You think to yourself: The sharp-edged, desperate hope that this time, just this once, his warnings
- will not go unheeded or dismissed - Weighed down by the leaden expectation that this will not be any
- different.
- Again, Terentia says nothing and listens, instead, to your words with the flat expression like She
- has worn in the past. "I will take your worry and arm Me and Mine appropriately." Her words finally
- break that up, taking on the speculative tone of strategy. "The difficulty is, of course, unaligned
- to anyone in Lusternia, She is able to play the field more expertly than most. That gives Her an
- edge. Mobility. That is, of course, your concerns are true."
- You think to yourself: Not an outright dismissal. He would take it. Finally, /finally/, Someone at
- least can see the potential for harm the Lady of Lagoons possesses.
- Continuing, Terentia, the Even Bladed says, "I would be mindful of one thing, Avaris. To name one of
- Mine kin as Traitor is a grave matter."
- With his face still pointed at the ground, the slight nod that Avaris gives is
- nonetheless clear. "I expect Her to begin swaying Elders to Her side, or manipulating Them to Her
- advantage, if She is able, yes." At the admonition, the creak of squeezed chitin precedes, "I know,
- Lady. I know. Who else has willingly sought the Rite, if not the Traitors? I do not think Her any
- less culpable simply because what She sought was denied to Her."
- Giving a slow, careful nod, Terentia considers, almost to Herself, "Who would She seek to sway, I
- wonder?" Then, more firmly, directly to you as She attempts to switch gears: "Your last question,
- then, Avaris? I will hold your fears in My thoughts and in My bladehand."
- Avaris gives the matter due thought, contemplating it for a time, before offering,
- "Those likely to be most sympathetic to Her, or pulled into doing what She desires of them. None of
- the Ladies here would be receptive, I..." He falters for a beat, the hue of his eyes dimming as his
- antennae curve forward and down in a steep frown. "I hope. Unlikely to be those of Magnagora. I
- would imagine the Wyrden Elders, those of Gaudiguch, and possibly the Serenwilde." He lapses into
- silence once more, the golden plating of his interlocked fingers grinding against itself as he
- flexes and shifts his fingers. Eventually, visibly bracing himself, he asks, "How can an Elder be
- killed or otherwise neutralised?"
- The look that Terentia has given you previously, while firm like metal and stand-offish now hardens
- and sharpens like a blade between you. Her gaze, those two icy green eyes, narrow. "You would seek
- to kill one of My siblings, or to have one of Us kill Them, Avaris?"
- Force in Her voice, Terentia, the Even Bladed says, "My kin, who once built this 'Basin of Life,'
- whose numbers counted in hundreds and thousands? My kin, who were decimated so thoroughly that only
- a handful of Us remain now, you would seek to kill Them?"
- Instinctively, Terentia's hands unfurl from across Her chest and find themselves placed at the hilts
- of Her swords.
- Pointing Answerer, the red-steel blade, toward you, Terentia works hard to contain the power that
- builds in Her expression. It isn't force there any longer, but fury. "You be mindful to rescind such
- a thought, Avaris, before I carve it out of your brain Myself."
- Weathering the pressing weight of Terentia's gaze like a ramshackle redoubt
- besieged by overwhelming opposition, Avaris draws his wings in tight to his back, shoulders hunching
- as if enduring a series of blows. With the painfully slow, deliberate motions of one intending to
- offer not so much a hint of hostility, he extracts his hands from where they rest at his back,
- gradually extending them out to either side, palms facing Terentia, open-handed, empty. With all of
- his eyes downcast, now, and antennae flattened to the dome of his head, his voice is quiet, but not
- soft, or pleading. "I seek only to be prepared for the worst."
- ((Gets murdered! Manually, with actual sword swings, not a zap, which was a really nice touch!
- This triggers the intercession Lantra was sweet enough to give Avaris.))
- The healing mound of Lantra the White.
- This serene landscape appears more like a painting than reality, shaded in gentle shades of blue and
- green as an altar of white stone rises like a pedestal encircled by waterfalls. The cascading falls
- shimmer like a translucent curtain of mist, bathing the surroundings in a sparkling mantle of white.
- Stoic as they gracefully ascend from the waters, star lotus blossoms cradle the base of the pristine
- altar as their pure hearts emanate a soft, immaculate glow. Twinkling motes of cosmic energy dance
- forth across the rippling pool of water, leaving dizzying arcs in their wake as they trace across
- the alabaster stone. Rising with solemn grandeur from the misty waters, the healing mound of the
- White glistens with soothing light here.
- You see a single exit leading out.
- The metallic clang of metal against metal pierces the air as Terentia appears from a billow of
- smoke.
- Lifting a forestalling hand to Terentia, Avaris entreats, quick and desperate, "Not
- here. Not in Her place of healing. Spill my blood elsewhere, anywhere - But not here. I beg You."
- Arriving in streams of forgesmoke, Terentia cuts through the serenity of this place--holy and marked
- by Lantra--Her swords still tight in Her grip, knuckles pale as the moon. "You ever think those
- words again, Avaris, you will not even be recognisable to your Lady. Body and soul."
- Terentia, the Even Bladed has bestowed Her divine disfavour upon you. It will last for 5 months.
- ((Disfavour desc: Bloody red essence burns his palms, staining him with a penitent mark that
- ascribes the displeasure and disfavour of Terentia, the Even Bladed.))
- Terentia's eyes peer toward the mound, essence flowing around the Goddess in thick waves. And then,
- She sharply turns on Her heel, away from you.
- With a sudden crack of energy, Terentia disappears from sight.
- The faintest tinge of red enters the wide, roving eyes of Avaris's wings as the
- Goddess' attention shifts to the mound, the feathered pnions twitching as if about to put themselves
- between Her and the holy place - Only for the overwhelming pressure of Her displeasure to dissipate,
- sudden as a blade pulled from the gut. Wavering on his feet, lifts his hands to stare at the four
- marks that burn upon his palms, bloodier and more intense in their anger than anything he has ever
- been capable of producing with the red of his own fury. Trembling, he stands there for a long time,
- antennae limp and lifeless, draping over the edges of his head like streaks of spilled blood.
- You think to yourself: His heart, hammering still against the prison of his chest, his nerves
- screaming at him to run, to fight, to do /something/ - Even though he knows, without a shadow of a
- doubt, that nothing could spare him from Her wrath, even if he had tried. The mark of Her
- displeasure burns more than just his hands, pressed against his soul like a searing brand of red-hot
- iron.
- Avaris stirs abruptly, glancing shamefully at the mound, snatching his hands to his
- chest as if to hide them from the disapproving gaze of Someone else. He turns, then, and he does not
- stride forth from this sacred, holy place, that should be a place of comfort, of peace - He flees
- from it.
- ((Goes to his under-construction manse))
- Stepping onto the cool, empty plane of water, so devoid of solace or warmth, Avaris
- simply stands where he is, the fingers of his hands mechanically moving to the grips of his swords,
- only to jerk back as if burned - Over and over, in a futile cycle of folly.
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