EVENT #6: PEACE ON THE HORIZON

[abraxasmods]

Event #6 - EVENT INFO

go to the OOC event info and plotting post

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Those that agree to attend the Summit will travel via portals to the designated location, which is out in the open in neutral territory. Plenty of pretty mountains and flowers. A magic field is erected over this area. Characters can only enter and exit at designated portals. It is not possible to leave this encircled area, which will also negate teleportation and portal spells. Plus, you don't want to embarrass your faction by sneaking out of bounds!

Before entering, all will be given a pin that designates what faction they belong to. This pin is not only color-coded but enchanted so that even should the appearance change, mages from any faction can identify who is who. The Summoned will be required to wear this pin at all times during the Summit.

The Summoned will be offered a comfortable tent to stay in during the 3-day Summit period! There's also a communal bath and a lounge to enjoy. A simple but tasty complimentary breakfast is provided for everyone, and additional meals can be bought from the faction booths or at the lounge. See the Neutral Section detailed below for more.

As noted, CHARACTERS MAY CHANGE FACTIONS USING THIS EVENT. To switch factions, please reply to the comment here. See the OOC post (link above) for details or questions!

The "Peace" Summit

An open plain flanked by mountains to the north and south, a large circular area has been fenced off. Large poles embedded into the earth are connected with magical rings, drooping heavy in the middle as if the ethereal chains have real weight. The area is divided into thirds, each section a mass of colorful tents and booths. In the center is a large wooden stage. All attendees must sit through this keynote speech. It's only polite.

The Prime Minister of the Free Cities begins the opening address. In formal military regalia she's the first to address the crowd, raising her arms high to command attention. She's smiling.

+ Marlo's Speech

"We'd like to start by welcoming all of you. For those that don't know me, I'm Marlo Renier, Prime Minister of the Free Cities. With me are Councilwoman Winifred Bordeaux of the Solvunn Communities and Queen Ellya Gladwin of the Kingdom of Thorne. We come together today in the spirit of good will. We may be divided by borders but we're all neighbors. We all share this continent. We may not always share the same opinions or agree on everything but who does? There's one thing we do agree on though - nobody is looking to start trouble. That's about the last thing anybody needs right now. That's why we're all here today. A show of good faith, a display of trust, and hopefully the first step on a long road of diplomacy and mutual understanding. And we all expect everybody on their best behavior and to conduct themselves in the spirit of this Summit.

I'm going to turn things over to Councilwoman Bordeaux now. Thank you, and you all should come check out what the Free Cities has to offer! Councilwoman?"

Marlo steps aside for the representative of Solvunn to take center stage.

+ Winifred's Speech

Winifred steps forward, nodding hear head to Marlo before turning her attention to the gathered crowd. Her own attire is modest, a dress of ivory and forest green adorned with hundreds of embroidered flowers and a velvet bodice in a deep wine red.

"Thank you, Prime Minister. Some of you are likely only to know of Solvunn due to the terrible circumstances surrounding Eifstide, for which we must humbly apologize. It was not our intention to cause such pain and happened merely by accident. While that does not take away what has occurred, we do hope that we can move forward together to create a brighter, more connected continent. All of us has something to share with each other, and it is my sincerest hope that we may learn from you, as well.

The Gods smile upon the unification of our mighty communities! May we be blessed with a friendship of longevity and prosperity!. For those of you curious as to what Solvunn can do for you, look no further than this Summit's festivities. It is my pleasure to let Queen Ellya of Thorne conclude todays formalities."

+ Queen Ellya's Speech

When it's Queen Ellya's turn to speak, she addresses the crowd with hands folded. For this occassion she's worn an elaborate gown of bright blue shot through with silver that seems to shift and move through the fabric.

"Such inspiring words, truly. I can only echo the sentiments put forth before me. I hope that this Summit shows to one and all that Thorne intends no aggression toward our fellow kingdoms. Certainly, through collaborative efforts such as this, understanding can be found. Tensions can be resolved. Even between such opposite minded cultures. I am confident that these few days will be very illuminating for each and every one of you. I urge you to go forth with eyes and ears open, to ensure all that can be learned is. Enjoy yourselves. Indulge yourselves. Educate yourselves. The festivities will now commence!"

Spreading her hands towards the audience, Queen Ellya slowly steps back to her place with the others.

From here on out, the festivities commence! Characters are encouraged to freely explore each faction's section as they please - and of course, to be respectful of their neighbors. They're all friends here, after all.

Mingle & Activities

Every faction has their own setup of booths and displays that feature a variety of activities and items. Booths open in the morning and close a couple hours after sundown in the evenings. Attendants at each place will be friendly, although some may notice that while the Summoned wander more freely, there is very little intermingling among the locals of each faction. The occasional dirty look may be exchanged when no one's looking and those with keen eyes might find evidence of petty bits of vandalism.

Click to expand the sections below for a description of each area.

Thorne Section

Each booth in Thorne's section are adorned with opulent fabrics in the same blues and silvers of the Queen's dress. Magically lit lanterns are strewn on the fronts and within tents and will change colors throughout the day and over the course of the weekend. Regardless of the weather, being beneath the awnings is always pleasant as if indoors in a properly warmed and ventilated room. Nothing is left wanting. Luxury and ease through the use of magic is emphasized.

Though not calling out any who wander the aisle, any who approach a booth will be greeted with a pleasant smile. Mages are eager to show off their magicks by the use of spells, staves, wands, and magical enchantments from ancient tomes. A booth from Hayle University gives demonstrations and short lectures on the hour every hour, letting the Summoned know that with enough practice they, too, can become a Master of Magicks.

For those who came with a full coin purse, there are fine wines, expensive tapestries and fabrics, sparkling accessories and more available for purchase. If you're feeling hungry, it is highly suggested that you try the decadent and delicately dressed dishes comparable to what's served in Castle Thorne itself.

Along with magic shows, the most popular booth is that of the Pondering Orb. Form an orderly line and wait for your turn to approach the orb. All will be allotted five whole minutes to think their deepest thoughts as they lay their hands upon the orb and ponder. The little bit of tingling that you feel and the faint glow that grows the longer you touch it just means that it's working.

Free Cities Section

The Free Cities area can be heard from nearly all the other sections, alive with sound and activity. There's a state of carefully balanced chaos between the different booths and lanterns are connected by long wires, powered by generators placed proudly out in front - in almost direct competition to the magical light show that Thorne has been putting on. It's just a bit of friendly rivalry, of course. There's nothing wrong with having such a strong reliance on magic, even if it seems rather outdated.

Attendants are eager to show off all their grand innovations, including meals in a can (main course and dessert all in one dubious goop can!) and a small variety of old-style guns. They are the only faction displaying these weapons. In addition, they'll talk about the impressive level of productivity their workers provide in the name of progress. Naturally, no one is forced to work overtime. It's only that their people are so dedicated to their work, even a common factory worker will go out of their way to help science and innovation. The Summoned are encouraged to consider joining a nation with such a high level of ambition, and there's always room for everyone in their powerful military.

To commemorate the event, those participating can stamp their bronze with a fancy gear pattern. It takes about fifteen seconds to press and renders the bronze worthless to spend, but what's more valuable than a souvenir? There is a sign that says No refunds if you aren't happy with the result, although if the machine happens to swallow your coin, you will be given a new bronze to stamp free of charge. Isn't that generous?

Solvunn Section

Solvunn's booths are covered with handmade tablecloths in various styles - quilted, patchwork, crochet, and intricate embroidery. Enchanted candles of all shapes and sizes float and illuminate the area, some changing color as the day goes on. When the sun sets, all the candles take on a shade that imitates moonlight.

Those who are running booths will call out to anyone who approaches, ushering them to the booths in order to ply them with friendly conversation and small samples of their wares. For the right price, there are specialty honeys, cheeses, candies, and all other manner of goat-based products. A few booths also have goat's milk soaps, lotions, and candles. Ask a Solvunnite about what good a goat is and they'll tell you everything. The mages are equally more than happy to show off their mastery, though not just in flashy elemental magic. Mages fond of divination, tealeaf readings, and interpreting tarot will offer one-on-one demonstrations, especially if you've some coin to spare.

This year, Solvunn has decided to extend its Spring Equinox celebration to the other Abraxans at the Summit! Everyone is encouraged to join in the festivities as now is the time for observing the balance of day and night. This celebration is devoted to new life - new community members, additions to their flocks, and the bringing of goodwill for the year's crops. A maypole is erected at the center of the celebration and if it stays upright until the following festival, it's taken as a sign that the community's harvest will be bountiful.

Additionally, the shrine of Lyfbringr has been erected with paintings and several small statues depicting an androgynous god that appears as an amalgamation of man, flora, and fauna. The shrine is enclosed in a tent that is half bright cheery colors and darker monochromatic shades.

Representatives of Solvunn stand by to weave colorful ribbons or rings of flowers into people's hair or tie small bells onto their wrists. There are many baby goats frolicking in a temporary paddock that guests are free to mill about in. The Summoned are invited to consider a life among a peaceful neighborly commune where help and friendship are right at your doorstep!

Neutral Section

This area is meant for everyone to mingle, but the Summoned will find they're mostly the only ones here as the locals prefer to stay within their factions. It's lightly decorated with no particular colors or emblems of any one faction. Ample ambient lighting gives the place a warm glow once the sun goes down. Wooden benches are placed sporadically between the different designated areas, making sure that no one has to go far to find a place to rest their feet.

The Lounge Tavern is open at noon for 2 hours for lunch, and then again at sunset in the evenings, where anyone can come to have a drink or a meal. Beneath the protection of a large, open air tent, seating is provided in the form of more wooden benches and long shared tables, as well as a few stools. Vintages, ales, and meads from each of the factions are available to enjoy. A few recreational activities are available, as well, such as darts and dice games. The tables and seats are placed close together, to encourage mingling and talk among each other. Though the bar is staffed by NPC volunteers, all are expected to bus their own tables when they leave.

The Sleeping Tents are where the Summoned will return to for the night to sleep. Each tent has large number of pillows, throws, and a few large mats that can be arranged as desired for optimal comfort. The ground itself is lined in animal pelts, mostly sheep and goat, making it soft and inviting. They are indeed shared, but there's plenty of room for everyone. Each tent can fit about 8-10 people - or more, if you cozy up.

The Communal Baths open in both the evenings and in the mornings for a few hours each, which is effectively an open bathhouse pool. The pool is dug into the ground itself and lined with special tile manufactured from the Free Cities, hailed for its ability to hold water without the use of special sealant. The waters are magically warmed to the ideal temperature using enchanted stones from Thorne that create a natural border around the edges, and soap (made of goat's milk, courtesy of Solvunn) and towels are provided. Here, those attending can bathe as well as use it as a mingle.

Summit Events

Meant to be a "collaboration" between the factions, the Summit also offers activities that take place on the main stage where the speeches were initially given.

Raffle

The Summoned will be provided a single courtesy raffle ticket, which they can use to enter the raffle contest. Additional tickets will cost an extra 5 bronze coins. To enter the raffle contest, fill out the comment here and we will RNG your prizes!

Regardless of luck, all those who enter will receive all 3 (one of each) of the following consolation prizes:

• Inkless Quill: Provided by Thorne, this is a magical quill that never runs out of ink...sort of. It'll work for about a month of heavy use before it runs out of juice. The Thorne sigil will automatically watermark any pages that this quill is used to write on.
• Tote Bag & Charm: Provided by Solvunn, this soft woven tote bag comes with a small handmade charm depicting a sigil of one of the old gods. If asked what the god or sigil means, the only answer is that you will know when your time comes.
• Glow Ring: Provided by the Free Cities, this ring will adjust to fit any finger size. It comes with a round orb instead of a jewel that can light up on command and act as a powerful torch or flashlight. Very powerful. People have gone blind by looking directly into it for too long.

An Escaped Creature

On the second day of the event, rumor has it a small creature has gone loose! The offender in question is this little fellow, who is the size of a small poodle. The Summoned are asked to help find and catch him, if at all possible. He's noted to be harmless if mischievous, but all those in the area are warned to be careful for if he's startled, the animal will eject a magical plume from his quills that can cause one of the following temporary effects: excessive sneezing, a change in hair color, glitter bombed, or to emit a constant glowing aura.

No one knows where he came from or who brought him, but ask any of the faction attendants and they'll be liable to start pointing fingers at the other side. Nonetheless, all those who make an effort to help catch him will be thanked and available mages may attempt to help with the side effects.

If you want your character to make a real attempt at catching him, reply to the comment here by Feb 20th and we'll RNG who eventually catches him. If your character fails, however, they must take one of its side effects for the rest of the day. The choice as to which one is yours! The winner will be rewarded with a token bottle of wine for their troubles or a very fancy dessert if they don't drink.

Comments

[lackingtalent]

[Each of those moments feel strangely extended and altogether too long when staring into eyes as dark as pitch. Fandaniel's eyes do not look away either. Nor is there any light that comes to them. So he uses these overlong moments- each and all- to look, to really look- at this (supposed) young man's soul.

And oh.
It's damaged indeed. Fractured, splintered, frayed, even- something that honestly puts him ill at ease to behold.

This is a soul that has known cruelty inflicted upon it, yes.
It is a soul that has delighted in knowing what it is to be cruel, yes.

Yet more disturbingly, and what causes no small amount of concern, is that this one is a soul of which has been so overexposed to cruelty, the meaning attached to the term is lost. Every horror it could experience, would inflict, is as nothing.

The soul screams, in short. Yet more than that. It is a soul that has been screaming for so long, it simply cannot any longer. But what he finds most interesting is that there is a sadness within it, a longing, a question, which will not leave it.]

...I wonder...

[He has to try to keep his voice light, affable, but yes. He's all but certain now. While it is changed and corrupted both, this soul and what has become of it can only have its origin at Hermes.

Therefore, the eyes that so far have not even blinked, must be those of a corpse.
The lips that move to emit a voice so unlike his own, this corpse's voice.
Another irony for the pile.

It strikes him, very suddenly, of how Emet-Selch must have tried, truly tried to have his skin resemble him in the face. Of how he must have trained the voice- but this was hardly about him. It was about Hermes. Or...]

A version, I should think.

[Not quite. There was what happened at Mare Lamentorium. But it would not pay to be forthright about that- not yet.]

I must confess, I would never think that I, of all people, would share a bath with the illustrious Fandaniel. Unless you answer to another name now?

[endcaller]

Oh, come now. What other name would I have? My true name is long buried, after all.

[The deep silver eyes continue to stare a moment longer then finally dart to the side as Fandaniel lets out a humorless bark of laughter and sits back against the stones.]

Hm!

The "illustrious" Fandaniel. You do flatter me.

[He's been called that before and has never enjoyed it. The term was fawning praise when he was mortal, sweet words spoken by an aristocracy trying to win his favor. And as an Ascian...]

But illustrious for what, I wonder? What are these grand past accomplishments of mine? Are you referring to my work or someone else's?

[lackingtalent]

...Oh. My apologies! That was rather rude.

[But still. That little revelation is quite interesting.
Underneath the damage, he had seen that the soul was not whole to begin with, yes. While the colour was exact, the familiar elements were but a flicker.

Which begs the question- the name of that seat. If he were a reincarnation, how would he know it? He doesn't understand. Simply because he had not yet been told.

So.]

The one I knew with your title- was well-respected in quite a number of fields. Zoology, dynamis, magick, other varying technologies... I'll not bore you with a comprehensive list, but be assured- it would be quite a long one if all were included.

Suffice to say- he thus earned his accolades. As did each of his predecessors.

[And yet, his sadness, his question, his test had played no small part in dooming them. There was that. His feelings on the matter? Still hopelessly complicated, even after all this time.

Hermes' test for mankind had all but ruined it. Or had it forced it to evolve?
Had the Final Days, the Sundering, not just destroyed the civilization he had personally loved- but forced it to expand, to grow stronger, to eventually become capable of answering the Metia's song directly?

Oh, questions. Questions that have no place here, or anywhere.]

Regardless, that you even hold the name would indicate your own accomplishments are not insignificant. Would you tell me of them?

[endcaller]

You want me to sit here and regale you with tales of my halcyon days? I think not.

[Fandaniel knits his fingers together, stretches his arms out before him then up over his head until he feels a satisfying pop. Afterward he drapes them across the stones behind him, causing him to nearly sling one across Hythlodaeus's back and shoulders.

At the term "dynamis" various emotions flicker briefly across his face. Not one of them is cheerful.]

It was so long ago, anyway. Hardly worth talking about.

I'm more curious to know how you have heard of my title...

["Fandaniel" is a term that only the Ancients would care about. This man resembles faces from his dreams and is clearly an Ancient... He's never met an Ancient who wasn't an Ascian.]

Clearly you know of the old world but yours is not a face I've met yet. How intriguing!

[lackingtalent]

[Interesting, how his expression changed just like that.
...Was there anything left of Hermes after all? Or was it simply boredom that caused such an array of emotion, so quickly?]

What a pity. I would think these baths were created for men and women to wax lyrical about themselves just as much as they were made for cleansing their bodies!

[Perhaps it is a pity he is not to hear. Or perhaps not- given the state of that soul. Regardless, he's quite capable of taking the cue that the subject was to be changed. And change it he does.

He shifts away though- just slightly- for that arm does come far too close- beginning to rebraid his hair from when he had previously loosened it to wash it before Fandaniel's appearance. And with his eyes looking to Fandaniel's arm as it rests atop the stones, then to his face- his work is shortly complete. He releases it over his shoulder, choosing to cross his legs underneath him.]

Well. Of the Eitherys of my origin, all know of the Convocation. I happened to be fortunate enough to consider a few members friends. [A wan smile.] The previous holder of the seat, [...Maybe.] for instance.

[Whether Hermes was a previous holder, or Fandaniel is a partial holder, it makes no difference with that. Hermes was a friend. Yet he was not a close one. Hythlodaeus was not close enough to him to have done anything to help him with his burden- nor even of a mind to understand it, frankly. Especially after Kairos. But a friend, yes- with offices more or less linked.

And as for the other question...]

Not like I'm anyone of importance, mind you! Quite insignificant, all considered, even while alive- and long dead during your time, I would suspect.

[endcaller]

During my time.....

[Fandaniel falls silent and lifts his gaze to stare into the stars climbing the horizon.]

...An interesting answer...

You raise a question I had not considered. Clearly the residents of this world can grasp us from different worlds but to have magic so precise that it can locate different times as well...How?

Most civilizations fail to master even one of those arts, let alone both... Oh, the principles between them are similar, but--

[Then he looks back at Hythlodaeus and snorts.]

Forgive me, you wouldn't have any answer to that question.

Perhaps instead you could enlighten me... who else is here?

[lackingtalent]

[Oh, this one is astute. He had pondered the very same. And, as the other then confirms, his own inquiry was not a fruitful one. ...He was pulling on a thread, at least. For recent collaboration had shown him quite a great deal about their summoning magicks- as well as the fact that all was certainly not as it should be regarding any allusion of mastery.

But Fandaniel's snort (and polite enough assumption!) prevents him from sharing the details on that thread. So.]

The honourable Emet-Selch.

[Best to start with him, and as habit would have him start- with the full title.

Fandaniel had been given no inclination, whatsoever actually, in their conversation that he was anything but polite and... while strange (and certainly uncaring over personal space) actually quite affable company- but what happened on Mare Lamentorium has not left him. Nor the sight of that soul.

Yes, best to mention the one of which he is confident could handle anything ugly.]

Otherwise, some souls from the reflections. You'll have to forgive me- I'm not entirely sure of which shard, precisely!

[Vague, yes. Bordering on dreadfully close. But not quite a lie.]

[endcaller]

[Fandaniel stiffens at that name.

The presence of Emet-Selch in this world could complicate any plans he makes. The man has the power to unmake him, after all.

Still....the fact that he's here...]

You mean to tell me their magicks managed to ensnare even the great Emet-Selch? How that must gall him...

I wish I could have seen his face when he was pulled from the well. Wet and devoid of his powers...

Was he afraid, I wonder?

[He makes a mental note to ask the Unsundered Paragon if he happens to run into him.]

[lackingtalent]

Regrettably so! ...For all that would stand between he and our release, I should say. Personally, and perhaps selfishly at that, I must confess I'm full glad of his presence.

[For after all, in his mind? No-one else he's perceived, different worlds or not, have his dear friend's conviction. Nor half of his talent. To say he's confident in him would be an understatement. ..And while it is unspoken, his presence is such a comfort.

He does find it interesting, though, how Fandaniel seems to bristle ever so slightly at the mention of his title. Still, he doesn't ponder. For the implications of the Third Seat's presence to the other are quite unknown to him at present.

But the question. He cannot provide a concise answer, for he is not him. He can offer some thoughts, though. As well as a laugh, for the mental picture...

While the circumstances of the arrival had been explained, and explained well, by him, such a vivid picture had not struck Hythlodaeus until now.]

As wet, and as devoid as everyone else, I should imagine! I understand it was a small number of few moons ago.

[And! Perfectly politely:]

...Shall I inform him that you wish to speak with him?

[endcaller]

I doubt he will need to be informed of my presence. He'll find me on his own if he ever wishes to. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he were following the color of my soul even now!

[And the moment Emet-Selch finds him will be irritating. There will be questions asked that he doesn't feel like answering....

Fandaniel's silver eyes slide back to Hythlodaeus and look him over with renewed interest.]

That you are close enough to the Third Seat to tell him I am here intrigues me.

Who are you, oh man of no consequence who is friend to Emet-Selch?

[lackingtalent]

[Perhaps! ...Or perhaps not. While he hadn't heard anything with regard to Fandaniel from Emet-Selch himself, he wouldn't have expected to. Convocation matters were exactly that. It would have been equally so on the unsundered world, should a different decision have been made. But here? Likely the same.

So! Given his rather limited knowledge there, it's far better not speculate and simply answer the question.]

Of course! Forgive my lack of manners. I [was.] am called Hythlodaeus. Once, I held a position at the Bureau of the Architect- hence my honour of calling such a man a friend.

[A faint smile that does not quite reach his eyes meets that look of sudden interest.]

Even with that, I'm little more than a footnote. I'm sure you'll agree.

[endcaller]

[Fandaniel waves a dismissive hand.]

You are being far too hard on yourself, I'm sure. Who are any of us but footnotes in the infinite annals of history?

Many millennia hence we'll all be long forgotten motes of dust drifting in the ashes of a civilization long dead.

[He says all of that with an empty smile.]

[lackingtalent]

[A laugh follows that. Because oh, it's funny. Being hard on oneself would imply he was not content enough with the part he had played!

But oh. He's starting to prune. Would that he could teleport within these surroundings, but he cannot. So. He begins to move, the normal way- to the edge of the water in order to get out.

He can hope he is not being watched. If he is, Fandaniel would find his movements quite quick- the mass of dark-coloured (he would not wear black here.) fabric rearranged and placed over his body while it is still wet. Uncomfortable, yes. But far less so than being watched.

Should Fandaniel afford him some privacy, he would be far more liberal with drying himself first- yet the result would be the same.

...However that goes, he would have something else to say.]

Perhaps so. Though it is my hope our existences, our trials, our successes, and especially our mistakes might provide at least some lessons for those that come after us, so they may succeed where we had failed- and find an answer where we could not.

[A statement that could possibly resonate for Hermes, if anything remained. If. For honestly, he does not know.

And for Fandaniel:]

If not, I have hope their mistakes might provide lessons for those next to come. And that our journeys may lead us to new lives, less arduous.

[Yes. He might not know about Asahi's part to play in that.]

[endcaller]

[Fandaniel lowers his gaze and keeps his back to Hythlodaeus as he climbs out of the pool.]

So...you think there is some great destiny in store for mankind? That each generation might live with greater happiness and wisdom than the one before? How sweet...

[He knows differently.

Ever since he was a young man he'd dreamed about a land of floating islands and dark flowers. He remembers black feathers and a small yet powerful voice insisting that there was nothing for him on land or among the stars, that mankind was always destined for oblivion. Once he'd had control of Azys Lla he'd repurposed the Hyperstellar Downconverter. He'd taught it to signal deep space and learn the truth... nothing ever answered.

Then Xande had taken him aside, told him that nothing achieved by civilization mattered in the face of death. The Calamity had proven those words true. In the end Fandaniel stood on the ruins of his people, completely alone. Allag was gone and there was nobody left to hear his words, share his feelings, know his thoughts...

He doesn't say any of this, but as he thinks about his past dark shadows flicker across the water and dance across his skin as his Ascian powers surface.]

Men like you... I truly don't know whether to envy you or pity you.

[As he speaks his voice briefly doubles, one voice lowers into his aether as another rises in his throat. This second voice, his true voice, is lilting and silky. Hythlodaeus might hear something familiar in the texture of it, something that sounds like Hermes.]

[lackingtalent]

I would say that perhaps "destiny" is a little strong of a term... but something alike that- most certainly. New life always does seem to find a way to thrive, after all.

[Even sundered life, in his experience.
And as flawed, misshapen, broken, and insignificant these lives seem to be, he can't help but wonder if they are an evolution. They passed a test his people had failed, after all.]

However. What they do with the lessons left behind is their own choice. As is their eventuality. Should they exceed those before's limitations and survive where those before could not? It would be a wonderful thing. If not, they will perish. And perhaps the next will overcome.

[As Fandaniel's power shows itself, he can't help but stand back. His movement is controlled, most certainly. Restrained as well. He doesn't look half as concerned as he should- even though he most certainly is. The amount of power just in that single act is certainly something of note.

But his surprise is reserved for something else.

An almost-forgotten cadence, a particular lilt. A certain pronunciation, perhaps. The way such a normally projected voice suddenly sounds... almost delicate. Almost. It makes him linger, even when he knows he should be already gone.

So he lingers. Long enough to say something else.]

As a new friend, I would imagine you'll see no such thing.
...But by way of apology to an old one, I would mention it.

[endcaller]

[There it is, Hythlodaeus's answer to the question. Fandaniel doesn't agree with it.

The idea of the civilizations who walked before leading those who walk after is a sweet lie. Some civilizations will thrive...but only for a while. Always they perish. Always it's a death full of pain.]

Your words are lost on this old friend, I quite assure you.

[He stands up in the water and turns to face Hythlodaeus, still fully naked, although the shadows curling around him are slowly starting to flatten and turn into clothing.]

And I, your new friend, feel quite differently about the ultimate fate of mankind but I suppose that is not a conversation worth having, is it? Cling to your hope, rage in anguish and cower in fear at the end yet to come. It will not avail you, it never does.

[Fandaniel steps out of the pool and wrings water from the bottom of his purple cloak. He is now fully dressed.]

My...I'm soaked. I could have timed that better.

[lackingtalent]

Oh. How unfortunate.

[Hythlodaeus does not avert his eyes as Fandaniel stands bare. He should, of course- both for his own comfort (because yes. Viewing someone like that is uncomfortable.) and to return the other's courtesy of showing his back previously. But he's concerned. Unduly so- apparently- that the darkness the other summons was not for the sake of clothing himself, instead for something terrible.

...And yes. Perhaps he feels somewhat guilty when the benignity of the spell becomes apparent. Or he would feel guilty, were it not for what he remembers on Mare Lamentorium. Yet to answer him...]

Perhaps it will. Perhaps it will not. Not knowing is ever what it is to hope. ...And speaking of it, I also hope you'll find an opportunity to do so, again.

[He doubts it. But regardless. That display was certainly...
Something. Normally, he would laugh. Oh, he would laugh. But he can only conjure a wan smile.]

Shall I fetch you a towel before I leave?

[endcaller]

[Fandaniel slinks forward. If Hythlodaeus doesn't step back he will close the distance between them until their bodies are nearly pressed together.

He stares upwards into the taller man's face, eyes dark with madness and hate, though he continues to smile.]

I lost the ability to feel hope millennia ago.

Perhaps I never had it to begin with...

[Slowly, his eyes slide back and forth, scanning Hythlodaeus's features.]

Hope is the cruelest emotion, really.

It tricks you into anticipation and desire for a future that will never come. Build as you want, love all you wish, it will all be washed away by death and the march of time.

[Then he lifts his chin and looks back up at the stars that are higher in the horizon now.]

Even life itself is so often filled with misery and suffering... So why live at all? I have asked myself this question for aeons and have decided there is no meaning to any of it. No value to life.

[His eyes slide back down to Hythlodaeus, his smile unwavering.]

I know you don't agree but one day you will. One day you, too, will see the hopelessness of it all and that day will be painful.

[And he stands there, staring, eyes sparkling in the dim light. For a few long seconds he is silent then he steps backward.]

And a towel would be lovely, thank you for asking!

[lackingtalent]

[He does step back, yes.

At least two steps- and he can hardly help it. Fandaniel's tendency to get close- very close, disturbs in a subconscious way. It works and it works well. Feeling, sentiment, even thought and logic has absolutely no say in Hythlodaeus' creation of adequate space between them with those two steps. It's simply instinct. Simply subconscious- sense more than anything- to step away from something unknown.

And as for the way he is looked at- as if the shapes of his face are being recorded rather than simply regarded- he truly does not like it. So. He turns, in order to get Fandaniel the aforementioned towel which is a few more steps away, folded in a neat pile and set out with very many others for the day to come.

And as he returns:]

It would appear we are at an impasse. Of course, my view is that before all of this washing away, death, destruction, and the ever-so-unstoppable slow march of time you've taken great pains to describe- a hypothetical building can be built, and completed- for the sheer challenge of it. It can be lived in for the joy of it. A love can indeed be loved for the pleasure of it.

The fact it is to become nothing, eventually, does not change the fact it was. Nor the fact that it gave you something while it stood.

[For without little joys along the way, life was something close to what Fandaniel described. Maybe not quite so dire. That view had to be something else entirely- yet close. He hands over the towel, at arm's length.]

Yet in the spirit of moving forward and not treading the same arguments, for I think you above such- Perhaps I will.

[A faintly rueful smile follows.]

I imagine it will be painful. Yet it does not diminish what joy once existed.

[endcaller]

[Fandaniel snatches the towel from Hythlodaeus, crouches, and starts rubbing the edges of his cloak. He could use magic and dry himself in an instant but having a physical prop in his hand adds to theatricality of the moment.]

Not a debater, I see. Nor am I.

I hear there are entire groups devoted to the art. Do they talk in circles too? Hmm, maybe they are simply more talented in the field of rhetoric.

I am more of a poet, really. I prefer my art to speak for me.

[He stands and starts walking down the path. As he passes Hythlodaeus he thrusts the towel against the other man's chest so he can take it back.]

Perhaps, one day, it shall.

Ah...

[As if suddenly forgetting something he stops and twirls where he stands to face Hythlodaeus again.]

Miserable conversation aside it was a pleasure meeting you, Hythlodaeus. Maybe I will see you again.

Until then....bask in this joy of yours. Such emotions are fleeting.

[With a jester-like grin that is all teeth and no cheer he waves, turns, and continues walking off down the path.]