Feytower - Front Door (Rik, Ellowyn)

The summons said the 7th of Eleint, but didn't say where to show up for admission. This is problematic, as the Feytower is a sprawling castle construct: half-university, half-home for most of the city's magical population and (in some cases) their families and children as well.

Faced with no further information, Father Rik and Cleric Ellowyn take the straightforward approach: they knock on the big imposing door which royalty goes through when they visit. The giant door itself does not open, but a little humanoid sized door cut into the giant door does. A weary butler pokes his head out, preparing to send them away, but once their names are repeated at him--twice--he blinks and looks thoughtful.

"Come with me, please," he orders, his manner turning infinitely more subservient.

They are led through sumptuously carpeted halls which are richly decorated in the finest and most beautiful objets d'art available in the city. Nothing which can be gilded has not already been dipped in gold; no fine painting on the wall has not been made finer with the application of frames adorned in jewels and pearls. Statuary of breathtaking beauty lines the halls they're led through, the detail so fine it's hard not to imagine that these were not once actual people, now frozen by magic.

They are led to a waiting room which has been comfortably appointed to a high gloss. Soft chairs to sink into; plush carpets to pace; dark wooden tables to hold any excess gear they don't wish to bring into a fancy appointment with them. Even luxurious animal beds and bird perches have been provided in different sizes at each corner to allow familiars and service animals to rest in comfort.

On one wall, Rik is startled and perhaps gratified to see a painting which is one of Thorn's own seascapes. He'd not realized many had been yet sold. Electric lightning dances over the water, purple and deadly but achingly lovely; in the far corner of the painting a single ship--merchant? or pirate?--is tossed on unfeeling waves. They will die in that storm tonight, those shipmen, but only after experiencing a beauty beyond human imagining.

[Reaction shot to Rik and Ellowyn, as well as to allow them to meet formally.]

As Ellowyn approaches the fey tower they are overcome with apprehension. Something about the sorrowful way Marta has spoken had haunted them this past two weeks.

They had spent considerable time brushing up on the particulars that are expected of a cleric of Ehlonna. They did not want to disappoint when they were here because of Marta but they had the feeling there was more to this than they had the info to figure out, It made them itch slightly at the edges of their mind.

Along with their cane (with all this usual adaptions) they had worn their best cloak, had spent a good portion of the day before neatening up their leather armour as best they could to make a good impression and had a small pack with them filled with some other "essentials" some specific tools that they felt they might need. Some insense to make a show that they are actually a good cleric some herbs that might be useful for .... Something.

Ellowyn really was winging it this was their first ever official summons as a cleric by someone outside of the order. They felt woefully unprepared.

Of course this would be when they spot father Rik a little ahead of them. Oh gods...

As the pair arrived at the door and gave their name Ellowyn gave their usual greeting to Rik which was an awkward nod and a half smile.

They had never been introduced except in passing by Marta as she briskly showed Ellowyn around the temple of her beloved Yondalla.
Marta had winked at Rik and after she and Ellowyn had walked past him she told Ellowyn to turn around and enjoy the show.

Confused and naive Ellowyn had turned around and turned a wonderful shade of copper as they blushed realising what Marta meant.

as the small humanoid is escorting the pair to their appointment Ellowyn finds themselves half in awe half in disgust. Everything is stunning so intricate but at the same time everything is so inefficient so much just for show. They realised that there was supposed to be a power in showing off this much wealth but honestly it didn't have intended effect on them. Mostly it just makes them sad.

When they finally arrive at their destination not is more of the same. They decide to sit and wait.

As they do they noticed a painting that is unlike anything they had seen so far.

This painting captured all to well the feeling of strange melancholy they had been increasingly feeling. That feeling of being out of control buffeted by life.

They have to look away as the painting began to swim in their vision slightly.

Father Rik is armored and equipped in full. Everything is well maintained and well worn from use. Not a single new item is readily obvious. Nothing that has not proven it's reliabilty. He is definitely not dressed for a formal audience, more like a full on hunting trip in the more dangerous parts of the wilds. A long hunting trip.

He recognizes the cleric and nods in silent greeting before turning to pound very loudly on the large door.

His normal easy smile is nowhere to be found. He scowls at the butler, repeating his name with a bit less of a guttural growl the second time. The lavish surroundings make no impression on him. He is heavy on the heels of the butler occassionally glaring down at him to walk faster.

When they make it to the waiting room he rounds on the butler and is about to go off when he catches sight of Thorn's painting on the wall. It gives him enough pause to take his tone down just a notch.

"I did not come here to wait." he growls.

"Rik?"

A soft voice on the other side of the waiting room door, and it is a voice he recognizes even if from years before. The door opens to reveal a beautiful elven woman, slender and graceful as a willow sapling, her eyes wet from crying. Blond hair tumbles down her back in a loose plait to sweep the backs of her heels, and her dress is a fine white material that looks as though it was spun from spiderwebs and starlight.

"Oh, Rik!" Ignoring Ellowyn, the sorrowful woman sweeps into the waiting room and throws her arms around the orc-man's neck, crying softly into his armor. "You came. Oh, thank all the gods you came. I wasn't sure if you would."

His glowering softens instantly and is body curves to make his clanking embrace as gentle as possible. He holds her tenderly, gently stroking her braid. Hus voice chides softly.

"Why did you make me wait so long? Of course I came. It was hard not to do so immediately. What has happened?"

Ellowyn is quiet shaken from their reverie by the sound of a voice more mournful than their inner monologue.

They became acutley aware they perhaps were intruding and endeavours to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

Laerdya Siannodel -- for who else could this be? -- does not seem to notice Ellowyn making themself small.

"Oh, Rik." She cries into his shoulder for a time, distraught. "It's... I had to... You'll see when we... I wish it were something fast you could fix, but... Oh, Rik." The woman in his arms looks as delicate and young as she did eighteen years ago, but even when her grief over her husband was fresh she did not seem this fragile.

"You'd... you'd better come inside my office. We have to wait for everyone there, but. Oh." Her eyes at last fall on Ellowyn, her gaze and her tone both so flat the woman seems almost dead inside. "Hello. You're... I can't remember. A cleric, though." This might be a question, but the flat intonation makes it impossible to tell.

Ellowyn smiles slightly and nods " that is correct ma'am, Marta agosti recommended me.

I can wait here for the others if you would like some time alone?"

"Marta?" Her sorrowful face softens a little. "Oh, yes. I remember. No, please come in. I'll just... get you some tea. Do you like tea?"

Turning, she drifts back into her office, apparently expecting them to both follow.

Rik frowns as she inexplicably seems to go from sobs to.... nothing. He follows, letting the cleric precede him. Taking the opportunity to observe from a bit more distance.

Ellowyn briskly follows Laerdya into what the assume will be an office of some kind.

They look around for the particulars while they say "ma'am would you like to take a seat I can prepare tea for us all if it pleases?"

They look breifly to Rik catching his eye and staring pointedly at Laerdyas back desperately trying to communicate that they had no idea how else to help.

[OOC: This scene continues in "Feytower - Laerdya's Laboratory".]

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