Deakon and Riona

[Rygothran]

Deakon tells you 'The cadence of power, such a seductive song.'
You tell Deakon 'One that was denied me.'
Deakon tells you 'Power? or the joy of it? '
You tell Deakon 'What do you think?'
Deakon tells you 'Mmm I once tasted power, but at its peak...there was nothing but emptiness.  The illusion like glass made of sugar.'
You tell Deakon 'I sought it desperately, power at any cost. Do you know why my lord denied me?'
Deakon tells you 'Your desire.'
You tell Deakon 'My muddled blood was not suitable for His gift.'
Deakon tells you 'Ahh blood.  why do you mention it so? '
Deakon tells you 'What is it you know? Time Mage.'
You tell Deakon 'I know what I was denied. And I resent them for it, for their success when my own efforts were rewarded with condescending laughter. Even the Timelord, I resent.'
Deakon tells you 'Desperate for it.'
You tell Deakon 'Have you known desperation?'
Deakon tells you 'And that desperation the crack into which they seep.'
Deakon tells you 'Yes.'
You tell Deakon 'Then you would understand.'
Deakon tells you 'Yet I know it was my ultimate failure.'
Deakon tells you 'It is desperation to fill an empty place that fueled my ego..my exposure.'
Deakon tells you 'Which..well...I learned what the truly desperate know.'
Deakon tells you 'You would be wise, my dear, to avoid such failings.'
Deakon tells you 'Yet what question is there of the wisdom of a time-mage of your stature.'
You tell Deakon 'I found something else to fill that void in my soul.'
Deakon tells you 'Oh? '
You tell Deakon 'Mhm.'
Deakon tells you 'Do enlighten me.'
You tell Deakon 'It was love.'
Deakon tells you 'Hmmm..isnt that...weak.'
You tell Deakon 'However the love came from something which exists beyond the edge of time, beneath gravity.'
You tell Deakon 'I seek it even now.'
Deakon tells you 'You speak of things beyond my simple reckoning.'
Deakon tells you 'For time, time I am a slave too.'
Deakon tells you 'But in its service I have been set free.'
You tell Deakon 'Let me ask you something.'
Deakon tells you 'My dear you are far from beholden to my will'
You tell Deakon 'Do you know the surface which has only one side?'
You tell Deakon 'That which has only one boundary? The form that is unorientable?'
Deakon tells you 'Hmm, at the risk of being...open.'
Deakon tells you 'You speak of the Mobius strip.'
You tell Deakon 'Most mortals could not imagine such a thing, because it defies their expectations, their experiences.'
Deakon tells you 'Most. mortals.'
You tell Deakon 'I saw something which bent itself in the same fashion, turning and coiling around reality itself. It was separated from the planes.'
Deakon tells you 'A maze of logic, where you are more likely to find your own question staring at you as you meet it.'
You tell Deakon 'Time is a labyrinth, not a road.'
Deakon tells you 'Oh, I find it to move in but one direction'
Deakon tells you 'Yet I have never tempted that madness.'
Deakon tells you 'You truly divine that one may meet their own beginning? '
You tell Deakon 'Then which madness tempts you?'
Deakon tells you 'I must confess.  Any who have come to know me..even in the least, know nothing anymore.'
You tell Deakon 'It was my first lesson: what was, will be; what will be, was.'
Deakon tells you 'Yet what secrets may one hold from a time-mage such as you..'
You tell Deakon 'Many, oh, so very many.'
Deakon tells you 'And do you seek this knowledge with equal fervor...desperation? '
Deakon tells you 'Its value is relative..of course, only to me...for now.'
You tell Deakon 'Knowledge comes as much from within as from without.'
Deakon tells you 'Hmm, such channels of thought..so vulnerable.'
Deakon tells you 'Let us meet then my dear, and speak with the respect that one would give another for such trust.'
Deakon tells you 'I stand in the wood shadowed by your time mach...tower.'
You tell Deakon 'And I in the pit riddled with demons for the demonslayers' amusement.'
Deakon tells you 'A shame.'
You tell Deakon 'At least I gathered the tooth. I suppose there is time to gather more vellum.'
You tell Deakon 'Always time.'

Shadowy Woods
  A dark and eerie trail leads through the cavernous maw of towering trees
and fearsome sounds.  Glowing eyes blink deep within the shadows, following
any and all movement, in idle curiosity.  The seemingly lethargic foul
creatures do not guarantee safe passage, and ghostly whispers warn you to
turn back while you still can.  

[Exits: north east south west]
(Charmed) A huge three horned creature stands here.
Deakon the Knight of Legion is here, sitting astride a warhorse.

At once your gaze is filled by a shadowy figure.  The silhouette of an
insidious presence, a tilted face, concealed in darkness crowned by two
twisted horns.  Yet your inspection pierces this dark guise to find it
simply that, shadows.  As your vision adjusts, piercing the gloom shrouding
the man before you, reality begins to take shape.  

The man before you is quite young, perhaps in his late twenties.  His
shadowy crown of horns revealed to simply be a black tri pointed cap pulled
low over his brow.  A popular piece of attire common amongst those whom hail
from the east.  A pale face beset with soft grey eyes and unassuming
features dispels any previous perceptions of intent.  He is adorned in a
long black trench coat, the top three buttons left open to reveal a simple
brown leather doublet.  The coat serves to conceal most of his attire.  Only
leaving his thick boots and slick leather gloves open to inspection.  

There is nothing to show for weapons or armor of any sorts.  Though
mysterious, the enigma is only born from the fact that this man is here at
all.  From his coal black hair, to the well-tailored nature of his attire
everything about him in the end seems to placate the observer.  The shadows
obfuscating your initial glance merely the result of poor lighting.  

He has done a fair amount of traveling.
Deakon is in excellent condition.

'You found your blade,' Riona comments, lips curving into an amused smile.

Deakon clasps his hands in front of him, his lather gloves creaking.

Deakon says 'A simple thing, really.'

Deakon says 'One merely need to brave the journey.'

Deakon says 'Those sands are..well..violent.'

Deakon casts a sideways glance, 'As are others I have encountered.'

Deakon refocuses on you,'Yet, I feel a draw to share with you...I wonder if she motivates this meeting.'

Riona remains silent, watching Deakon, listening. Finally, she speaks, 'You seek Anume's favour.'

Deakon glances upward,'I seek..'

Deakon says 'A return.'

Riona asks, 'A return to what?'

Deakon says 'I am a failure.  Or, I have failed.'

Deakon says 'One thinks that with time, that mortal needs would fade.'

Deakon says 'Yet they infect your motives.'

Deakon says 'Drive you to...error.'

You say 'Not even the Divine are free from error.'

Deakon says 'Mine was pride.  pride become exposure...exposure to discovery.'

Deakon says 'And that discovery to the magical dagger in my heart and a stone coffin.'

Deakon reaches to his mouth, but halts the gesture.

Riona arches a slender eyebrow. She opens her mouth, as if to comment, but then closes it again.

Deakon says 'Pardon, but I find I stand upon a slippery slope of confession...one that has resulted in many bodies since my awakening.'

You say 'I have not urged you to divulge.'

Deakon shrugs helplessly.

Deakon says 'The urge is my own.'

You say 'It is so important you must remind yourself of it?'

Deakon says 'It is important that I find my way home'

Deakon says 'Be it to ash...or..'

You say 'Ah. A tether.'

Deakon raises an eyebrow, 'A tether..interesting analogy.'

You say 'I broke free from mine.'

Deakon shakes his head.

Deakon says 'Not I my dear, not I.'

Deakon says 'I was taken by foes...betrayed...and my own pride left me blind to it.'

'Hubris,' Riona agrees.

Deakon says 'Locked away in a coffin of stone, a magic dagger in my heart.'

Deakon says 'Do you know, time-mage, how long such steel takes to rust? '

You say 'I take it the kiss of one true love was not what set you free?'

Deakon cocks his head, the odd question apparently literal.

Deakon says 'No...no..time set me free.'

Riona's question, on the other hand, is very much rhetorical.

You say 'Time set you free. Another thing we have in common.'

Deakon says 'Perhaps that is the draw.'

Riona folds her arms across her chest, her gaze sweeping over Deakon's form.

You say 'You should join the Tower.'

Deakon says 'It took long enough for hunger...to turn to starvation...for starvaiton to turn to madness...madness...dessication.'

Deakon shrugs turning, gazing at the moons.

Deakon says 'One can obviously draw the conclusions from there.'

Deakon smirks, touching the cornors of his mouth. 'That blood...as it leaves you...the final drop.  I would wish that pain on none.'

Deakon says 'And for one who had not felt pain in so long, well...'

You say 'Conclusions. More treacherous than pride.'

Deakon smirks.

Deakon says 'Well spoken.'

'I know.' Riona flutters her eyelashes at Deakon.

Deakon says 'Dessication...such a thing to be spoken in one word.'

Deakon says 'After a countless age the magic withered, as the rust did its work....Aabahran shifted..cracks formed, and well..here I stand.'

Deakon raises an eyebrow.

Deakon says 'Yet, for what? '

You say 'I have seen a sickly man turn to bones - literally turn to bones - and yet walk and speak as if he lived.'

Deakon says 'As if.'

Deakon says 'The symptoms of those who have served the cycle, rather than be a part of it.'

You say 'You ask for the purpose of your existence? Questions more apt for philosopher than the Savants.'

Deakon says 'Oh...the quesion I think...is for her.'

Deakon holds his hands out looking up, 'Why keep me about..'

Deakon stops, shrugs. 'So dramatic.'

Deakon smirks.

Riona asks, 'What then? What after?' There is a brief pause. 'What if you still suffer this emptiness?'

Deakon says 'Spoken by one who has sought..found, and lost power?'

Deakon peers at you, his grey eyes sharing a brief glimmer.

You say 'You are superbly skilled at deflecting.'

You say 'A trick I often employ myself.'

Deakon says 'Perhaps..deflection.  such games though are for lesser beings are they nor? '

Deakon says 'I have tasted ecstacy...would you not wish to return to that? Give up everything for it? '

You say 'I quite enjoy diving the many layers of men,  whether high or low.'

Deakon says 'Then it comes to it, I have nothing to give up.  Hence why I seek to return home.'

You say 'Understanding what drives others.. it is not useless knowledge.'

Deakon flashes a wicked grin, showing empty holes where canines would be.

Deakon says 'Spoken well.'

Deakon says 'Seems my draw to you is far from misplaced.'

Deakon says 'In the end though, only time will tell, and here I am before one who speaks its language.'

Throughout the conversation, Riona seems to consider every word Deakon speaks, weighing them carefully, examining them from every which way.

Riona mumbles softly, 'Time is a labyrinth, not a path.'

Deakon says 'Hmm indeed, yet here is a mistress of mazes.'

Deakon shrugs, turning to no-one in particular, 'Perhaps she will answer my questions.'

You say 'That is why you asked me here? To divine your future?'

Deakon says 'I feel the need to confess, and you are a priestess...of chaos, and time.'

Riona offers a dark, wolfish grin.

Deakon says 'The two things that have both perpetuated and beckoned my being.'

Deakon says 'Here even I tohught I would not survive it, yet time has set me free.'

Deakon says 'So much time..'

Deakon peers around himself intently.

You say 'I am the betrayer, and the betrayed. The wronged, and the wrong-doer. You call me priestess of time, when my obsession lies beyond time itself.'

Deakon says 'Isnt that the suffering of mortals, to reach a new shore, and peer to the next? '

'What do you -want-?' Riona seizes Deakon's gaze with her own, staring into the depths Deakon's eyes, 'What do you desire?'

Deakon licks his lips, 'The blood.'

You say 'The blood is the means, not the end.'

Deakon says 'The true blood..that has been drained from me over centureis of mad hunger.'

Deakon says 'Mmmm there is no end my dear.'

Deakon says 'Isnt that.'

Deakon says 'Your origional point.'

Riona shakes her head.

Deakon says 'The Mobius Strip.'

Deakon says 'Never ends.'

You say 'What was, will be. What will be, was. There are beginnings as well as ends, but we have already seen them.'

Deakon says 'This time though, I am wisened by my failings.'

You say 'The blood has been given, as well as denied. It has been taken, withheld, squandered. And yet you stand here, waiting.'

Deakon says 'Again you speak true.'

Riona says softly, 'Of course.'

You say 'The real question is: are you worthy?'

Deakon says 'One thing I have learned, from centuries of life, and even more I imagine in a purgatory of death..'

Deakon says 'Is that such judgments are not for mortals to make.'

Deakon says 'Even those whom are their subject.'

You say 'And yet we constantly strive to prove our worth. Such delightful irony.'

Deakon says 'I strive..to return home.'

You say 'How excruciating. To desire something that is in someone else's hands. I know the pain all too well. The helplessness.'

Deakon says 'Yet, in my prison...i knew this.'

Deakon says 'As I starved..'

Deakon says 'Slowly...'

Deakon says 'Madness making me gnaw at the stone..'

Deakon snarls,'Until my very fangs ripped out at the effort....'

Deakon says 'As hunger ...became madness....'

Deakon shakes his head, reaching to touch the cornors of his mouth.

You say 'Madness. Desperation.'

'Pain.' The word passes from Riona's lips a faint whisper, barely even perceptible.

Deakon says 'Not the glory many imagine'

Deakon smirks.

You say 'What is it you hope to find at home that you can not have here?'

Deakon says 'Purpose.'

Deakon says 'For now purgatory is my prison.'

Deakon says 'A more mild yet equally insidious form of torture.'

You say 'The lack of purpose does that to a man.'

Deakon nods in enthusiastic agreement with you.

Deakon says 'You strike with such accuracy.'

'It is one of my many talents.' The words are boastful, but Riona's tone is playful.

Deakon says 'Yet beyond useful and insightful'

Deakon pauses, tapping his chin, 'Though I imagine...those whom are slaves to their egos..

Deakon smirks.

Deakon says 'Well, I am sure you have enemies as a result.'

Deakon says 'Either way.'

Deakon shrugs helplessly.

You say 'Pardon me.'

Deakon says 'Here I wait, and now you know.'

Deakon says 'The old kindred, left to rot in a forgotten tomb...freed by hapenstance and the very nature that rejected him.'

You say 'Does your loneliness affect you?'

Deakon says 'It is odd, for dessication...has left me burdened with that which I once shed.'

Deakon says 'Loneliness? love? pain? suffering? such a muddy mess..'

Deakon says 'In truth, I would say no...but then again..mmmm the presence the blood brings.'

Deakon says 'It is like a lover abandoned...'

A drawn-out, weary sigh departs from Riona's lips.

You say 'I fear I must return to my chambers for now.'

Deakon nods.

Deakon says 'I have bored you long enough my dear.'

You say 'You have a talent for words.'

Deakon shrugs helplessly.

'A poet's flair.' Riona says, aiming a smile at Deakon.

You say 'Very poignant.'

Deakon says 'Perhaps in all your measuring of leverage and desire you will find great value in what you know.  I feel in debt even for the simple moments granted.'

Deakon offers a simple half-bow of respect.

Deakon says 'I thank you time-mage, for your lended ear.'

Riona dips down into a low curtsey. It is an elegant, fluid motion that ends in perfect stillness. Then, she rises again.

You say 'You are welcome.'

Deakon narrows his eyes slightly, 'Should the time come to repay such, you will find it much worth the investment.

You say 'Ah. Vague promises of rewards. '

You say 'We are so alike.'

Deakon smirks.

Riona grins mischievously at Deakon.

You say 'Farewell, Deakon.'

Deakon says 'The draw is mutual.  I have chosen well in whom I give my confession.'

Deakon says 'Farewell, Riona.'