Felara had separated from Meir'cillus's party some time ago, trying to figure out how to get reasonably close and yet stay undetected. The warlord is left with a small party benefitting a non-hostile envoy. All are quiet as the fortress draws near.

Meir'cillus remains quiet for most of the trip, just thinking about what he's going to say to Vayen. Killing him won't really be enough, but still, he isn't certain that he can accomplish that at all. The orb in his possession certainly gives him a much-needed shot of confidence.

The warlord calls his name and presents the letter of summoning upon arrival, none too eager to delay or rush the proceedings.

The guards nod...they'd been expecting him. The letter's handed off, and someone wets a rag from some sort of glass bottle and wipes the seal...the deep blue wax turns to a dark red. It's authentic. That verified, a guard bows lightly to Meir'cillus, and leads the party into the fortress.

They pass several unique lines of defense as they go...all but the outermost two are inactive, but each of them is in prime condition, stocked and easily readied in a moment's notice. Their destination is the huge, central building. It's as fortified as anything...but that's just not as interesting by now. The party's horses are taken to the stables, and the drow themselves split up or left at the warlord's discresion.

After a few minutes, a noble of some sort or another--though obviously one with as much military training as everyone else here--approaches the visitors. "Pardon the wait, Master Meir'cillus...Lord Vayen is occupied at the moment. Is there anything I can see to to make your party comfortable while you wait?" It's such a subtle thing, being ready to jump for the visitor or not. But such a very existant one.

Meir'cillus retains his noble aura as best he can... though he finds it darkly amusing that he has to play at being a drow lord. And yet, this is the fate that he's demanded, the path he's growled for his entire life.

"Not at the moment," he answers the fellow, eyes perfectly trusting, mind searching for traps, "I would prefer to conduct my business and begone as quickly as possible. I'm sure lord Vayen is of the same mind."

"I'm sure he'll see to you as soon as possible." The drow bows his head. "If there's nothing else, I have business elsewhere."

Meir'cillus gives an answering, though more slight, bow. "There's nothing."  Keep it angry, snappish... that's how Drow do it. He thinks. It's hard to remember, sometimes.

"Alright, then. Have a seat, there will be people around to see to anything you need." That said, he takes his leave.

Meir'cillus watches him go, uninterested, but not inattentive. He sits, keeping his idea to himself. He waits. And waits. And bloody well waits. 

And waits. For the better part of two hours, actually, before the noble returns. "Lord Vayen will see you now, alone."

Meir'cillus rises, his nerves on slightly on edge. He can only guess that Vayen is attempting to throw him off with nerves, but that might be paranoia talking. He heads along after the noble, breathing through the nose, calming himself, and ever ready to 'will' that silly orb. As he walks his inner monologue speaks soft apologies to Rey'deyono, Faresylia, and the land he might just be leaving behind.

The 'throne room,' or the closest thing to it, is a far cry from Ionnya's public forum. It isn't as large, and the lack of windows of any sort, graced only by the architectural detail of absolutely columns lining either wall. Vayen's seated in a starkly utilitarian throne where an empire's monarch should be, but not with particularly good posture, head resting on a propped elbow. He couldn't really look more bored. "Ah, so you finally made it." He looks over to Meir'cillus, though not shifting overmuch. "Recovered from your injuries, I trust?"

"As much as can be expected, yes." Meir'cillus doesn't want to draw his guns yet, and keeps his aura and his apperance respectful and decidedly nonthreatening. "If I might cut around the fat of the matter... why has Lord Vayen called me here?"

"Well, you did kill my most able general." Vayen examines a cut on a finger where he'd drawn blood for a spell, still looking quite disinterested. "If you were capable of killing Xayu, then you deserved to kill him and he deserved to die. But I would love to know the agenda behind such a very bold maneuver."

Meir'cillus smiles a bit. Vayen knows damned well that it was Therian who killed Xayu, of this he is certain.

"At the time I didn't have one," he answers, truthfully enough, "except that I disliked Xayu personally, and felt that he was inadequate for his position."

"Inadequate?" The sorcerer looks back over to Meir'cillus. "Then tell me. Who is adequate?"

"I try not to think too far ahead, my lord. It clouds the issues at hand." He wonders if the line he's walking is more dangerous than a submissive one.

"So I've noticed. Though you do make quick tracks for one without an agenda. That was an impressive trek, moving your entire force from Elentria to Ionnya in six days, only to immediately have my voice there assassinated."

"Elentria was subdued, and I'd heard that someone had smashed my home country." Here Meir'cillus's words darken a bit. "Your 'voice' had me abducted and tortured. So I had him butchered."

Vayen smiles, thinly, for the first time. "As it should be. A pity about your temple, really...it was a lovely building. I've given strict orders that everything of importance in Ionnya remains intact for itself, but...that situation simply called for more decisive action."

"Yes," Meir'cillus nods, "I can see how a holy woman and a handful of starving, terrified people presented a tremendous threat to the Lord."

Vayen's expression doesn't change, persay, just...somehow takes a more dangerous sheen. "They were rebels. They had to be dealt with accordingly. A pity that my idiot general couldn't deal with such a simple situation himself, really, but in either case, you've been a king in the past, Meir'cillus. You know that a pocket resistance, for appearance's sake, can never be allowed a victory."

Meir'cillus's head tilts, though it actually looks as if it's setting normally afterwards. "I didn't know that you were in the habit of mixing words, Lord Vayen. I don't mean to rush his Highness, though I'm sure we both have better things to do than dance around some point."

"It is as I'd first stated. I want do know just what agenda you have in targetting key members of my forces. Or..." here he looks to Meir'cilus again, "is that only for your Serandein friends to know?"

"Oh, thank heavens." Meir'cillus smiles a bright, wicked smile, an expression so dripping with pent up evil that he can barely believe his face capable of it. "I'd thought you'd become a total fool in your old age, Vayen. No, I have no idea what the Serandein want, beyond your death. I don't think that far ahead."

"So tell me. Which step towards 'my death' do you intend to perpetuate?" Vayen looks a little less bored, though not much...it's more to amused than defensive, really.

Here Meir'cillus clutches the Elves' orb. "Let's let history decide that after one of us is dead." The will is there, then, and Meir'cillus has but to hope it works. If not... he'll have to think of something else.

It works, perfectly, but Vayen only smiles, the expression fading into a genuine, dark amusement for the first time. He makes no move to avoid the quickly-approaching field. "You do realize that if that spell touches me, your priestess will die."

Meir'cillus blinks, but doesn't falter. He holds the field of the orb right where it is, his other hand blazing visibly with antimatter energy. "She's already dead. Don't fuck with me, Vayen, you've already ruined my life."

"Oh, no." The smile broadens despite the orb's increasing speed as Meir'cillus gets the hang of it. "There's another body in that grave. Your human is alive, and here, and dependent on my magic for life itself." He closes his eyes, sitting back, a vaguely amused expression on his face. "Though you can choose to never know." The field is only instants away by now.

Meir'cillus grits his teeth, but calls the field back. "You have two seconds to prove it. If you don't then I'm going to take my time when I kill you." He's lying, he has to be. Surely.

A spark of cold amusement flashes across the sorcerer's eyes, giving a hint to his age for just a moment. He shifts for the first time and finally stands up, rather enjoying himself. As much as he enjoys anything. "If you'll follow me, I can show you." He smiles, that contented, arrogant little smile of one who knows he's just won, and heads for the door without further pomp.

Meir'cillus follows. There's nothing to but follow, and be ready to let the orb's power loose at any given moment. 

There are a good number of rooms around a certain area of te fortress that no one touches...they're for Vayen's use. Some are contaminated by unholy magics, and others are just plain empty, but few people can tell the difference. The one that Vayen leads Meir'cillus boasts a sturdy, locked, metal and wood door. He doesn't need a key to get in, smiling a little. This sort of thing is so much fun. It really is. "I thought it was rather sporting of me," the sorcerer muses as he walks into the room, trailing his fingers over the wall absently, "going out of my way to save the life of a human who caused me such irritation."

The room is tall, circular, and distinctly cooler. All accent the pale, cold column of light in the center of the room. There's a figure suspended within it...a familiar one. Rey'deyono looks exactly as she had when Vayen had retrieved her from the temple's wreckage. Her torn robes are plastered o her body in several spots...obviously by blood in the starkly red-on-white places, only presumably so in others. One ankle's damaged, but...the real danger, what should have been a death blow, is the head wound. Her skull has literally cracked where something struck it, though this is barely visible for how her hair has fallen. Either way, the blood completely coating that side of her head and a small part of her face does nothing to flow or drip, but neither has it dried in any way. It's simply...frozen in time. Stopped utterly. Everything but her even, regular breathing stands still. Her face is...peaceful. Unaware of anything, even pain, her eyes closed as though in sleep.

"Rey... de..." Meir'cillus had expected himself to break down if she was still alive. Had thought he would beg for her life. "Vayen. I know... you have the power to make her right again." He glances at the sorcerer, eyes set in pure, cold fury. "Make her right again, and let me take her away from here, and you will never see us again. Or you could choose not to, and I could kill you now." The warlord lifts his chin, looking away from Rey'deyono if only to keep his drive from faltering. "This is not life. If you don't do this for me, I won't only kill you, but I will hand your empire to the whitest, blonde-haired blue-eyed Elves that I can find. I will turn your fortress into a playground for little bastard Elf children."

"I most certainly can." The sorcerer smiles, brushing off all threats. "But there are several things I want you to do for me first. Or you can just try to kill me, I suppose, but success would leave you with two choices." He tilts his head. "You could let your priestess suffer an agonizing death for minutes or hours, or kill her yourself."

Meir'cillus takes a step towards Vayen, the tears in his eyes not hiding the fire of rage that burns behind them. "Don't tempt me, goddamn you. I'm not afraid to end her suffering myself. Don't think for one second that you've got the upper hand." He takes a slow, laborious breath. "What things are you talking about?"

"Oh, the first is quite simple." Vayen shrugs a little, leaning against the wall. "You have a slave of mine. I want it back."

"Then you'll have to do some running, Vayen. Your slave ran off days ago, after her master's death." Meir'cillus doesn't want to go after Therian, largely because that gives Vayen a tremendous time frame to screw him over.

The sorcerer shrugs. "So go find it. I don't especially care if it's returned alive or not."

"I'm not a tracker, I'm a commander. There are others who could do this better and faster than me, and you know it. You're playing with your life, Vayen."

"You could say that the slave has friends less wretched than herself. I have trouble tracking her. But you, she won't be guarded against."

Meir'cillus sneers at that. "Fuck you. She has nothing to do with me, or this." He blinks, his eyes dry again. "This is about that woman, and me. You won't do yourself any good as a pile of dust."

"No. And I won't 'do your priestess any good' as such, either. And here I had thought that you would leap at her last chance to live," the sorcerer ponders as he walks around the light, examining the priestess boredly. It's not random. Meir'cillus can't look at him without seeing her, too.

"..." he does end up looking. At her... "...fine, Vayen. I'll talk to Therian. But you will release Rey'deyono at full, perfect health, and you will separate her from your magics. You will free her immediately, not later. And afterwards, she and I will disappear. Clear?"

The sorcerer smiles, and doesn't respond. He just reaches into the field and pulls Rey'deyono from it, hand at the base of her jaw, and is holding her by throat just a moment later, to a faint, reflexive gasp against strangling. Without a care for that struggle, the air around Rey'deyono flashes brightly, swirling with a pale yellow storm of potent healing sorcery. The light fades after several long seconds, and then Vayen simply drops her to the floor to land hard, walking casually towards the door.

The tiniest grunt leaves the priestess's throat at the impact...she stirs a little a moment later where she lays, disoriented and too weak to even really raise her head at first.

Meir'cillus rushes to her side, but turns his head to say one last thing to Vayen. "Vayen... remember, if you try to hurt her again, I'm coming back for you. If you force a next time, you will... not... survive." That said he turns his attention to Rey'deyono, allowing his antimatter to fade but still keeping the Marei orb ready... in case.

Vayen only smiles, for the moment.

The priestess is still..."disoriented" is a mild term. Rey'deyono's eyes flutter open just a slit, unfocussed, though of course it's infinitely hard to make that distinction. She doesn't know where she is...a hard floor, and pain...someone nearby. "Meir'cillus...?" she murmurs softly.

Meir'cillus nods. He can't smile, not yet, though he desperately wants to. "Rey'deyono... can you hear me?" His heart races with fear and anxiety, terror that Vayen might have played some trick. 

"Nn..." she shudders, curling up a little. It hurts. But she manages to move her head finally, turning enough to just barely see Meir'cillus's face, meeting his eyes for a moment before she can't hold it that way anymore, laying it down again. It's a moment in which all her intense confusion and pain, relief or joy at seeing his face and yet, yes, fear, swirl through her formless eyes, just before they close again. "Where...are we?"

"In Vayen's keep. We're about to be escorted safely out," here Meir'cillus glances evilly in Vayen's direction, "as soon as you are able. Don't push yourself..."

"Oh, no." The sorcerer doesn't smile again. "My insurance is sprawled out beside your knees. She's still connected to my magic in large part, dependant upon it. This is a temporary sort of magic. She'll revert to her previous injuries if she's separated from me. If, and only if, I get my slave back, I'll finish the process conclusively. And then you can both go on your merry ways."

Rey'deyono stiffens at Vayen's voice, turning her face in that direction, though she can't see him from this angle. Her eyes are something between frightened and outright challenging. She still has no idea how...any of this...had come about.

"You'd better hope to whatever God you worship," Meir'cillus roars, knowning that he can't win here, "that Therian is all right. Else I'm going to use your blistered corpse to redefine suffering." Meir'cillus looks again at Rey, eyes closing slightly. "Rey'deyono, don't worry... I'll have you out of here soon."

The priestess's eyes widen very slightly. She can't remember...but...she's suddenly somehow conscious of...a long time. A very long time, in dreams...no mortal should experience. She closes her eyes after a moment, nods resignedly. She can do nothing, and if this is how the Twins will.... She tries to push herself up on her arms, but it's very hard.

Meir'cillus sets his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. "Vayen, put her to sleep," he orders, not worried about ramifications. "She can't suffer. If she suffers, you suffer. I'll go find Therian, and that will be that."

Vayen only shrugs to that. "The quicker you are, the happier everyone will be."

Meir'cillus stands, storms to the door. "Put her to sleep or I'll fucking kill you where you stand."

"And her in the process." The sorcerer isn't perturbed, just waves a dismissive gesture not unlike one used to shoo a dog.

"No...not to sleep." The cleric winces for the exertion, but finally manages to prop herself on her elbow, finally gathering herself at least a little. "No mortal should...see such dreams as I have, Lord Yerosyn. Not to sleep."

Meir'cillus stomps out, shoving a nearby guard drow against a wall as he goes. 

Just find Therian. I'll kill Vayen anyway.

"Where has my entourage gotten to?" he growls at the next noble-looking Drow he sees.

Rey's eyes widen a moment, then fall shut, pained. Just like before...just like on the ship. She doesn't know why she'd thought it would be different now. She lets herself sink back to the ground...it's too hard, anyway. She stiffens after a few moments, opening her eyes again, before jerking her face up at the drow boots not a foot away.


The drow Meir'cillus has stopped looks distinctly as though he's being bothered, but gestures over his shoulder. They're waiting for you in the next room.

Meir'cillus walks past him, furious at himself for not destroying Vayen then and there. But there's no time to consider... he'll find Therian, get Rey back, and then murder Vayen himself. All will be fine. All will be fine.

"Let's go," he growls to his tag-alongs, "we're leaving. Now."

Felara, are you around?

She is, and tries to give some vague indication of such, but doesn't dare to just plop down in the open. She has little doubt the guards would shoot her. A few minutes later, she elbows her way through the party until she gets to Meir'cillus. "Well. At least you're alive," she observes as she falls in step beside him.

"Rey'deyono is alive," he mutters, his voice ringing with fury. A dozen promises broken over one discovery. "I have to find Therian to save her life. Thoughts?"

Felara's quiet for a few moments, digesting all this. Her real thoughts...just won't help matters. So best to just humor him and help however possible. "Are you sure it's really her?" she inquires cautiously, after a moment.

"What do you mean?" Meir'cillus growls the question, though it's just residual "I want to eat Vayen's face" growling. "It was her. I'm positive. It felt... like..." he looks away. "When we get away from here I'll say more."

Felara nods, and is quiet for now, mulling over how to track an assassin who doesn't want to ever be found.

---

A dirty, unkept and little travelled road at the northern border of Ionnya is not the place that Meir'cillus wants to be right now. He's cloaked, but his expression is the same one that he's been wearing for days. Cold, unchanging, the expression that the Xen'tal of old wore.

Felara's acting...herself, though herself without the mediating influence of disimilarly-minded people around here. Despite his ability to be ruthless, Meir'cillus isn't normally as outright cold as she is. She pauses at a fork in the road, closing her eyes a few moments. "Left. I think. The trail's getting fainter. She moves faster than us."

The drow lord heads off to the left, not feeling the need to verbally respond. That takes seconds, anyway.

"Felara. What do you think our chances are of Vayen not screwing us over," he asks as he walks, his voice monotonous and uninteresting.

"About the same as those of the assassin saying 'yeah, sure, let's go! I've been waiting!"

'No matter what happens, I'm going to kill him." Meir'cillus says this as if its as simple as brushing his hair in the morning. "For what he's done to her, to my land. He dies. I just thought you should know."

"Fair enough. It's going to be tricky making sure that his magic's separated from your cleric completely, but there are ways."

Here Meir'cillus glances at her, his eyes only barely visible beneath the hood of the cloak. "Ways. What sort of ways?"

"Mostly psionic-based spells." Felara shrugs. "Can get technical if you want me to."

"If you think it will help." Meir'cillus trips on a small stone about then, not falling, but stumbling. He growls and glances at the offending bit of earth before picking it up. "I'll hold onto this," he says, "I can squeeze it and relieve some stress."

"Poor rock." Her explanation of the possible spells is long and fairly dull...just a way to pass time for lack of any other. There are a few hints that may indicate to Meir'cillus that there's still a connection, mannerisms like Rey'deyono moving a limb at the same time as Vayen more often than coincidence can explain, but the most reliable methods boil down to bothering T'narian's psychics.

"Wonderful. So I'll have to squirrel a few into the fortress." The warlord glances ahead on the road, feeling miserable and irritable at the world in general. "No matter what, this won't work without find Therian. Any leads?"

"I think so. Judging from the direction..." she looks at Meir'cillus. "Well. Writings exist about Therian as a case study of what not to do when trying to extend a human's life. It's how I knew who she was the first time. They were written by an elf named Tymanin. He's dead, but if memory serves, he has an ally up in some mountain inn or somesuch. I think that may be where we're headed."

"Allies... that might be troublesome. I had no idea she was such a celebrity." The drow tosses the rock up into the air, catches it, tosses it again, repeats. "When we find them, we're messengers of peace. I won't take Therian by force unless absolutely necessary, because I want her help. I think she'll be happy to help take down Vayen, knowing that we can do it."

"She's not, that I know of." Felara shrugs. "Probably if you're a bounty hunter or something, but otherwise, I just know because I happened to be doing work in that specific area." She flexes her claws. She's not positive where the elf's house or inn is, exactly...hopefully there will be some sort of traceable signature. Or she can just be an arial scout. Meh. She'll figure it out.

Meir'cillus has a sudden thought. "Elf. I wonder if said elf will be at all hospitable to a battle-scarred drow?" With about twenty pounds of metal in his head. And creepy eyes. And a freakish compatriot with a mutant arm.

"No clue. If it's who I think he is, I wouldn't mention your agreement with Serandein...anyone sensible will want Vayen gone above all else, but there just may be a grudge against your albino buddies, too."

"Noted." Meir'cillus gazes up, over the hills. "It's too damned complicated. The same garbage I went through with humans and drow... external enemies that aren't obvious enough to unite the people."

"Well. You did it the first time." Felara examines the ridges of her nether-arm boredly.

"It was only musing," Meir'cillus assures her, "I could care less about unification now. Only Rey."

Felara glances over to him. "She'll be okay." The reassurance is...slightly out of character. "Human or not, I give her credit for what she did...and anyway, Vayen needs her alive as long as you have that crystal. She'll be okay."

Meir'cillus glances at her, too. He's not so out of it that he doesn't recognize sympathy coming from strange places. "I appreciate that," he says. "All the same, i don't want to waste any time. How close are we?"

"Don't know. Give me a minute, I'll look ahead." She pulls her weapon from her back as she speaks. After a short flight, she's back. "Not far. Day and a half. The slave's energy pattern is strengthening there again, too, so I'm pretty sure we're headed in the right direction." And she's quiet again. She just wants to get this over with...all this damned insanity over with.

They make better time than she'd given them credit for, and end up approaching the unnamed inn at about the same time the next night.

---

Time passes, and by the time Meir'cillus and company arrive at the Capital the warlord has withdrawn himself into his most perfect, completely icy composure. He could be hit with a brick and never change expressions, in theory at least.

"Therian, you should be bound for this. Felara, can you mock up some loose, easily escapable bindings for her hands?"

"Can I just cut off the circulation instead?" the alchemist mutters as she drops down behind Therian.

"Can you do that minus your hands?" the assassin mutters in turn. She jumps off the horse, though, having already removed her riculously formidable collection of weapons--save one that Meir'cillus could have quite conceivably missed that's hidden under her blindfold, outline hidden by its being under her hair--and puts her hands behind her for Felara to grab telekinetically. The lack of physical contact despite physical force bothers the magic-hating human enough to amuse Felara quite thoroughly. The bonds are done before too long.

"So. Can you get out of that, Toadsong?"

"Answer would have been yes even if you'd tried for otherwise," Therian snaps back.

"Behave, children. Or its no supper tonight." Meir sets his horse to riding forward at a casual pace, heading for the fortress itself. "And if your behavior exposes us, you will be supper. Now quit bickering and let's get on with this." 

Felara scowls and helps Therian back onto the horse, thus testing if the bonds are strong and convincing enough despite the assassin's ability to slip out of them. She'd tested Therian's knack for escape already, and had found it to be fairly impressive.

Therian, for her part, becomes extremely quiet as they approach the fortress gates.

The guards had been expecting Meir'cillus this time, and he's allowed through with significantly less trouble. A general of some sort approaches the trio once they've jumped all the hoops of security and getting horses quartered and the like. "The human's going to have to stay behind while you meet Lord Vayen, and I'll take the slave," he states simply.

Therian scowls inwardly. She knows this guy. She's kicked his ass repeatedly. And so he makes it a big deal to show who's in charge. And, unlike Xayu, he's quite bad at it.

"Felara," Meir'cillus nods to his compatriot. Keep your eyes open. If things go badly, flee to the Serandein and report. He looks back to the general, his eyes eyes ice cold, uncaring. "The slave stays with me. You don't have a problem with that, I'm sure."

Felara nods just a little, shrugs more visibly, and starts off in one direction, expecting to wander somewhere she's not allowed and get stopped and shown the right place sooner or later.

"I have orders that have to do with her, from Lord Vayen himself. You're going to be starting whatever meeting you have with him on a very, very bad foot if you flaunt that." The general hadn't expected the resistance.

Meir'cillus glances at Therian. He doesn't need her on hand, and after all, he's quite sure that she's managed to squirrel away something to defend herself. It wouldn't be Therian-like to go anywhere unarmed.

"Are you threatening me, general? Xayu was the last general to threaten me, you know." Meir'cillus tilts his head. "But, I suppose it can't be helped. Slave. Go with this..." Meir pauses, looking the general over. "... man. He will hold your leash."

The general narrows his eyes a little. "Watch yourself. You're out of your territory. And out of your league." Then he stumbled at this horribly awkward moment when Therian oh-so-clumsily steps improperly after he's grabbed her bindings. He catches his balance and backhands her sharply.

Therian responds with tensed shoulders and little more...a tiny smirk touches one corner of her lips. Considering where on her skull he'd struck, he'd probably hurt his hand more than her head anyway.

"Yes yes, babysitter. I'll be heading to Lord Vayen's chambers now." Meir'cillus heads off that way senses kept sharp for traps, and the orb's energy kept subtly at the ready. He's nervous, but hides it quite well. What is to come may well be the most important, or the final, moments of his life.

There's less waiting involved this time. As in, Vayen actually sees Meir'cillus the first time he really has the time, as opposed to letting him stew. "You're certainly exceptionally slow, he notes as greeting. "I'm sure that your priestess won't have appreciated the delay." The sorceror folds his arms casually.

"Faster than any of your bold idiot generals could have done it. Let's not waste any time with pleasantries, lord Vayen." Meir'cillus remains stone faced, not trying to watch for traps or anything like that... nervousness might give away his intentions. "Release her from your magic, into my custody, and I'll be on my way."

"Now, now. You can't really expect me to do that until you've handed over that orb, can you?"

"Don't be so childish. You really don't think I'm going to hand over the orb to you, do you Vayen? So that you can kill us both without a fight? Release her from your magic, and I might give it to you." Meir'cillus glances towards the door. "Don't waste my time with this. Just keep your end of our bargain, and I won't darken this doorstep again."

The sorcerer shrugs. "Every advantage here is mine, however you may delude yourself. I can still kill your priestess at a whim. I do intend to release her to you after I have that bauble, however. You have no choice but to trust my word in the matter. I, however, do not have to trust yours."

"I don't break promises, Vayen. But I have no reason to trust you. You should know better than anyone that I would never give up any sort of advantage, if doing so would put my goals at risk." Meir'cillus stares at him. Don't do this, Vayen. Don't put me in this position again.

"Yes, but wouldn't not giving an inch puts your 'goals' at even greater risk? She already hasn't eaten since you left." The sorcerer examines his fingernails boredly.

Meir'cillus holds out the orb. "Free her first. You won't be losing anything, Vayen, and you know it. Free her and you can have it. But not bloody well until."

Vayen's face chills very suddenly. "You're beginning to try my patience with this posturing game."

"Then do something about it," Meir'cillus eyes light up at Vayen's altered expression, and as his eyes light, so does the fire within the orb. "Give her to me. Then you can have it. Or... are you afraid to, Vayen? Afraid that I'll just extinguish you after I have what I came for?"

"Trying to talk me into disadvantaging myself makes very dangerous assumptions on your part. You seem to think that everyone around you is affected by the idiocy of youth." The sorcerer's had quite enough of this. He doesn't like others having any sort of advantage, and Meir'cillus holding one for long is simply intolerable. And to be disposed of. "If you had advantages here, you would not be my willing errand boy. This will get simpler. For every sentence you utter past this, your human will lose a finger. If I run out of fingers, I'll move to hands, then forearms, and so on. If I run out of those, she'll quickly become a cripple, and once all that is done...I don't need to spell out the continuances? Or you can just give me that orb," he holds out his hand, "and you take her, and go on with your lives. But her well-being is your decision now, isn't it?" It's rather hard to imagine that he's not serious about the threats.

Meir'cillus hands over the orb, teeth grinding together. He might as well have slit his own wrists. But as trying to hold onto his life obviously isn't going to do any good, he hands it over.

Vayen's hand only appears casual...he couldn't be warier of this damnable thing. Having his own Marei orb turned against him isn't something he'd counted on. He doesn't strike Meir'cillus now, though, simply turns and walks towards the door. "Use the other exit. Your human whore is in the third door on the right. You're still useful. But don't overestimate that fact's weight."

Meir'cillus just smiles. "Thank you, lord Vayen. I'll remember your kindness." He walks that way, to the third door, thoughts racing through the innards of his mind. He looks inside, warily scanning for tricks and traps.

If there aren't any, they aren't visible. The room is quite bare...there's just a long sort of stone shelf that could be used as anything from a work table to a bench to, in this case, a bed. Rey'deyono is somewhere between sitting and lying in the corner atop this, arms tied behind her. She'd been lost somewhere in a light sleep she'd fought as long as she could. The sound of the door's opening startles her awake. She blinks groggily, but her eyes have no trouble adjusting to the dim, drow-oriented light. "...Meir'cillus...?"

The drow steps closer to her, not so close that the situation might be made understandably awkward.

"Yes, it is. Are you okay... is a stupid question. Can you move?"

A relieved hint of a smile touches her face for a moment, until she realizes the question. "I'm...not sure." That she's in a somewhat awkward position, due in part to her bound wrists, steals away most of her usual grace, but she does manage to sit on the edge of the shelf, then takes a slow breath and tries to stand. She manages, somewhat, but ends up leaning against the wall almost without realizing how she'd gotten there, eyes closed against dizziness. She hasn't been able to stand properly yet without that feeling one gets by standing up too quickly after lying too long.

The drow lord sets his hands upon the cleric's shoulders, to steady her. His eyes lose that icy cool that they had been displaying so freely earlier. "Rey'deyono, this is important. Do you know if Vayen has freed you from his magic yet?"

The cleric searches his face a moment, though for what, if anything, is hard to say, then shakes her head. "No...I don't."

"Hold still. I'll see." For a moment the drow lord fears that he might have forgotten the spells taught by Derenith's books, but... there was never any chance of that. He would forget his own name first.

The sorcery bounces about within Rey's mind, seeking inconsistencies, surges, anything that is unusual within the natural body. "Don't fight me, Rey'deyono. You're safe with me, I swear it."

She shivers a moment at the feeling of the spell, but nods and leans on Meir'cillus. She's just...tired. Physically, and tired of fighting. Hardly any time has passed for her between the temple struggle and here...and she's done, too worn down to mantain most of her usual emotional walls and priestessly restraint.

There is a connection still. Thinned, meant to be undetectable. But it's there. And exactly what Meir'cillus had just studied.

"I should be angry, I suppose," the drow says, speaking only to benefit Rey'deyono, "but since every nit on the planet seemed to expect this, I'd be wasting time." His eyes slide shut, lips slowly murmuring the words for a spell he's pretty sure he can't screw up. Beams that only exist in the sub-visible spectrum snake outwards from his fingertips, seeking those connections like hungry serpents. 

His eyes open as the spell begins to do its deed. 

Rey'deyono's eyes widen a little, though still not entirely removed from the grogginess of sleep, when a feeling like...something heavy being lifted, sweeps over her. She closes her eyes again, not just from sleepiness, still leaning on Meir'cillus. "I think that he'll be here soon."

"Then let's get the hell out of here." Meir'cillus loops an arm around shoulders, reaching up some to do so, and leads the priestess towards the door. Felara, I've got Rey'deyono. See if you can get Therian out of there... she's with a general that looks like this... Meir pictures the prickish upstart that has Therian. Vayen has the orb, so you know.

Elsewhere, Felara kind of gets the feeling about Therian...figures Meir'cillus had put it there. Damnit. I'm not a fucking full telepath, all right? She rants inwardly. She does, however, start off in search of the slave.

Rey'deyono's thoughts are turning somewhat inward...a defensive reaction against the horrors felt by the prisoners of this place. Her empathy isn't helping matters. And she keeps expecting Vayen to show up at any moment. "How long has it been?" She inquires suddenly, quietly.

"I'm not sure when the temple fell," Meir'cillus answers her in a gentle tone of voice, his eyes wide open for sentries and his free hand pulsating with prepared antimatter. "It's been a few years since I left you... left Ionnya, that is."

Left Ionnya. Of course. She's quiet a moment. "I missed you."

Meir'cillus is shocked to hear that. "I..." he bites his lip, still walking, but in a less guarded fashion now. "How could you miss me? I never did anything... but make your life complicated."

"You treat me like a person. An individual one. Not even my own family does that."

The Drow Lord casts a territorial glance at some other officers he sees mucking about, fearing still that Vayen doesn't intend for him to leave here with Rey'deyono.

"You and I... we'll have a long talk once we get somewhere safe. I have... a lot of explaining to do, but for now," his eyes narrow at the too-long walk through the fortress, "let's concentrate on getting out of here."

She nods, then pauses and shakes her head a little, trying to clear it. When she opens her eyes again, they're more the High Priestess of the Order of the Divine Twins...ready to do what she needs to get back to her congregation. After awhile, she looks up suddenly, startled by something she can't place, walking on her own power now. "Didn't we already pass here?"

The drow lord looks around, eyeing the area warily. "I'm not sure. This whole blasted place looks the same."

"Yes, but I didn't think we doubled back...I did try to keep track of our turns, and I'm sure that you did as well." Rey'deyono, observes, still holding her robe shut along a less-than-modest tear. "And I haven't seen anyone in awhile."

"It could be a trick of some sort. Can you feel anything odd in the air? Anything that might suggest a problem?" Of course he had looked. Twice, in fact. But his alibi is that he was only checking to see if she was wounded.

She's quiet for a few moments, thinking, then turn to a door and opens it. It's unlocked...and empty. She moves to another door. Empty as well. A light frown crosses the priestess's lips. She tries a third, to the same result, then gestures to the empty interior.

Meir'cillus scratches his head curiously. "Well, damn." He steps inside the room, looking around for whatever it is Rey'deyono is indicating.

"There's nothing here. There's nothing in any of these. This hall...I think that it goes on forever. That it repeats."

"Fantastic. Let's try going back the way we came, what do you say, my Priestess?" Meir'cillus looks back, but isn't quite so sure. "Or blow out a wall or something."

"The second may work. Unless this was done with a pocket dimension, in which case that may send us hurtling through an abyss until we starve. But..." she shrugs a little. "It may work."

Meir'cillus smiles at her, then, his first real smile in some time. "I hope you know some pyrotechincs then. My magic only harms living things." But if I had to die, I wouldn't mind so much. As long as you're safe.

She nods, and can't help but smile just a little, before looking at an applicable-looking wall. "No, looking. I need both hands to do this."

Meir snaps his fingers. "I'll, uh... look this way."

The priestess lets out her breath and begins to move her hands, speaking quietly in some tonal, very foreign language. After a few moments, the circle of fire appears on the room's far wall, and glows increasingly brighter. A sharp sizzle splits the air, accompanied shortly by the smell of melting stone. Another sound begins to join the sizzle. Rey'deyono's eyes widen. She doesn't waste the barest moment in grabbing Meir'cillus's hand and sprinting for the door. "Run!"

Even as she speaks, the weakened circle bursts inward, debris only narrowly missing the Ionnyans, a screeching roar rumbling the walls. 

Meir'cillus doesn't waste any time. "Holy hell!" He runs along with Rey, his short legs suddenly seeming far too short.

The creature that bursts in is a gorgeous monstrosity...an enormous worm, all of crystal or glass. It hardly seems to have an up or down, the circular maw twisting as it tears through the room, bursting into the hall after those fleeing, a thousand spiked teeth swirling and gnashing within.

Rey'deyono's heart is quite in her throat as they run. Not fast enough...they're not fast enough.

Meir'cillus bites his lip, and then makes a life decision. He slows his pace just enough so that he can get behind Rey'deyono, and then turns slightly. "Keep running, Rey'deyono, don't stop no matter what." Whisps of antimatter drift upwards as he hurls an orb of the vicious stuff towards this monstrous worm.

The Priestess's eyes widen. She's torn terribly, between honoring his wish and leaving him...but it's no contest. She turns a few steps later. "Meir'cillus, you can't! Run!"

Meir'cillus's orb slams into the creature. Though it seems to be made of something crystalline...part of it tears away, disintigrating in moments. A louder shriek, another roll, and, after the barest moment's writhing, the beast lunges for them.

"I told you to run!" The magic wells up again within his clasped hands, gathering into a much larger field than before. "Please, go...!"

Rey'deyono narrows her eyes just a little. She's certainly not leaving him. And certainly not if there's a chance she can help. Just as she takes a step towards him, though, a hand bearing long claws clamps around her wrist, jerking her hard against her own springing momentum, to a very light cry of surprise. "Oh, come on. You heard shorty. You're too pretty for this kind of thing. For a human. Let's get a move on, huh?"

The priestess is almost too startled to protest, but is certainly much weaker than...whatever this thing is...and can only look back. "Meir'cillus, come...!"

The worm shrieks when another portion of itself is torn away.

Rey'deyono's eyes widen. "The ceiling! Meir'cillus, the worm isn't organic, see whether that works on something else! Trap it!" It's all she can manage before she's dragged too far away to be heard.

All that Meir can do is try and let his field go upwards and outwards, hoping that there's something holding the place together that he can harm. He turns and runs, following the voice that bade him.

Sure enough, the full potency of his magic somehow reaches its peak here, on everything it shouldn't. The magic spiderwebs through the ceiling, taking out key supports. And then the whole thing comes crashing down. The creature's dying cries don't last long , its crystalline form shattered to a million glittering grains of dust. Ahead of Meir'cillus, the two fleeing figures can just barely be seen disappearing through a hall door.

The drow lord pushes himself as hard as he can push, and though he feels that his lung might just burst from the effort he does manage to keep up with them enough to see where they are going.

The door's unlocked, and presents him with no obstacle in passing. The room is like all the others: a plain, bare rectangle with a long stone shelf, empty. Excepting, of course, Rey'deyono and a humanoid creature with waist-length, silky, pale pink hair. Long black streaks travel down either wide of his face, and his eyes are quite ruined by whatever had caused them...completely clouded over and slightly mishapen, almost bent from a scar down the middle of each. A third eye, obviously not natural but rather achieved sorcerically, is the same wan, yellow-ish beige as his ram-esque horns, long, hooked claws, and nearly translucent leathern wings. He's laughing. "Don't blame me. You're the one running around with more slits in your clothes than a street whore. I thought that not encouraging it to tear completely off was gentlemanly in itself."

Rey'deyono could not look more indignant, pinching her robe together and maintaining just as much priestly arrogance as possible.

"While I appreciate the help," Meir'cillus all but roars at this... person... "I suggest you be more polite to the Priestess. Now who are you, and tell me why I shouldn't burn you to cinders just to amuse myself?"

What's rather obviously a full-blooded demon--probably from the "lust" category way back when, although life doesn't seem to have been kind enough to leave his beauty fully intact--just smirks, leaning back against the wall, folding his wings and arms. "Some gratitude. I certainly have more reason to be curious about you two. See, you," here he points at Meir'cillus, "I can see, but what in the 'here' is a priestess doing around here?"

Rey'deyono is quiet for a moment. After looking over Meir'cillus a moment, eyes relieved after detemining that he's okay, she looks back to the demon. "This is Cocytus, isn't it?"

He winks and clicks his tongue, pointing a clawed finger at her. "Smart whore." 

"What's Cocytus?" Meir just bites his tongue about the whore thing. It isn't going to do any good to threaten anyone it seems. 

The priestess is silent for a moment, before looking to Meir'cilus, eyes quiet. "Cocytus was the name of the literary lowest circle of hell. There was a certain prison dimension. four seventy-three...I think...or perhaps four thirty-seven...but that doesn't matter. It brims with horrors so awful...the perpetuators of horrendous crimes, probably serial ones, were banished there. And yet, after a few centuries of this practice, it was decided that that was too cruel...and so they went back to torturing people to death." She's keeping her visage quite expressionless now. "And that place, for its terror, was nicknamed 'Cocytus.'"

Meir'cillus tilts his head, blinking. "And... alright, like curly over there said. I'm quite sure that I belong in a place like that. But you?" He glances towards the demon. "Any thoughts?"

"Settle down and get comfortable? It's always nice to get a female around here. A chaste-for-now priestess is a perk." He grins.

Rey'deyono simply refuses to acknowledge that. "I'm not so sure that these walls are penetrable to the inhabitants of this dimension. Our pink-haired friend had me open this door, though I didn't fully notice that at the time, and, considering that the halls are still uninhabited but for us and what came through that hole...well, it seems strange that all rooms still sound empty."

"Do you suppose it's an illusion of some sort?" The drow lord just smiles at the demon, betraying no thoughts. "That's what I would have thought at first, what with the repeating rooms."

"It certainly is possible. I rather like to think that we do have sanctuaries, but it won't help anyone to believe in non-existant advantages. Perhaps we should investigate the hole that the crystalline creature came through? That is, what can be seen through it?"

"I'm all for investigations." Meir'cillus gives a slow nod. "Can you go alright, Rey'deyono? You're feeling well enough?"

She smiles just a little. "I feel fine. Stronger, having been walking."

"Splendid idea. The hole will make a lovely frame." The demon rolls his eyes. Eye. "Here I am, see? Come and get us!"

Meir glances over at the demon, his smile untarnished.

"So, what do you suggest cutie pie?"

The demon shrugs. "I can tell you that she's right. You're in Cocytus, and only you two can get through the doors or walls. Seems stupid to flaunt that."

"Rey'deyno, my... Priestess, I believe you'll have to lead me by the nose through this Cocytus thing." Meir'cillus darkens a bit with barely contained drow-blush. He'd almost said a dangerous word, and here, of all places. "I'm not all that skillful when it comes to navigating mystical tricks and age-old traps.

Rey'deyono isn't sure what he'd been about to say...and is quick to banish suspicions from her mind, less they be inaccurate. "I'll admit I don't know much about the dimension itself. This is one of the very few accessible places that I've never dared to planeswalk." She smiles a little. "But I feel quite confident that we will manage."

"Ugh..." pink-hair rolls his eyes. "We'll see how sappy you two can stay around here." He'd leave, but he can't yet. Door's closed.

"Then I share your confiedence. Come, let us depart this depressing place." He holds out his hand for Rey'deyono to take. He may not have much time left to be sappy, and he's quite intent upon using it to the best of its ability.

The priestess smiles a little, eased just ever-so-slightly away from the seriousness of the situation, and takes his hand after a moment with her own, sleeve-covered one.

The drow lord feels impossibly good about all this, but knows that he cannot waste much time with pleasantry. He turns and walks, holding onto the Priestess's hand, towards the door, intent on figuring something useful about this place.

The hall, opened to the rest of the dimension by that hole and its open door, has some sort of purple...web, or fungus, snaking over large portions of the wall. The priestess eyes it warily. "We should close that door, or we may soon find ourselves trapped to one room as a sole safe haven."

Meir'cillus looks around, then calmly walks over to the door and gives it a shove. 

Rey'deyono smiles a little when it slams shut. "Simple enough. I suppose that the other matter is determining what's already come through." She glances at the fungus warily. It's horribly widespread, so quickly.

The drow lord gazes curiously at the stuff on the wall. "I'm not sure, my Priestess. Want me to kill it?"

"I'm unsure yet as to precisely how it's safe to do that. I'm also unsure about your magic...it affected the glass creature and the ceiling. Inorganic. What will that mean for how it affects things organic in this dimension?"

Meir'cillus gives a light grin. "Well, if you are afraid to use the magic, then I do have this sharp pointy thing." His smile broadens. How he has missed her voice... "Perhaps we should explore a bit more before we concern ourselves with it, my lady?"

The priestess nods. She'd missed his manner, too, his practicality, and a dry humor not entirely unlike hers. "Well, there are a few options to that. We can either explore these rooms and see what, if anything, is at our disposal--although leaving some stones unturned may be a good idea, in order to keep some from becoming contaminated by whatever this growth is, lest it show itself to be dangerous--else try the hole to the outside and try to get a sense of our larger surroundings."

"I'd say looking around would be the best choice... it's hard for me to believe that Vayen has the kind of power necessary to send someone to hell, without actually being nearby." He glances around. "Rey'deyono, do you want to take my cloak to cover yourself? It may well be inhospitable out there."

The priestess smiles, her eyes softening. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Meir'cillus removes the black cloak, fluffs it once to remove what's left of the road dust, and holds it out to her. Though he'd rather put it on himself, he understands that she's just been through a pretty horrible ordeal, and doesn't need unnecessary affection.

She's actually slightly dissappointed that he doesn't--though it's hard to tell how she would have really reacted if he had--but does appreciate the garment, settling it over her shoulders. She offsets it just a little so that she no longer has to cover the tear in her robe. She smiles at Meir'cillus, truly grateful for the simple gesture. "Thank you. Shall we go?" She shakes her arm lightly as she speaks to settle her sleeve completely down over her hand again.

"Of course!" The drow lord glances through the hole, and begins to walk that way, grinning to himself about the sleeve thing. He really ought to develop an idiosyncracy for himself, too. "What are we looking for, if anything, my dear?"

Rey'deyono pauses just the barest instant at the "dear" thing, but only a moment. She joins him at the hole's edge. It's a rather strange sight outside...nearly bare. Just a few paths going here and there, but everything is white from where they stand. "Simple confirmation of where we are would be lovely. Cocytus isn't 'hell' persay, but it is very difficult to escape from. I can't fully explain why...something to do with the thickness of the dimension's walls and their placement or somesuch."

"I can't imagine that that monster would have definitely told the truth. Is there any way you can test for that sort of thing?" Meir gazes out into the white... way the hell out of his element.

"Well..." Rey'deyono steps gingerly through the hole, sitting on what proves to be a rather high edge while she judges the distance to the ground. "If any of the stories of this place are true, it will be painfully obvious soon enough." She jumps from the relative safety of the earthly stones fully into Cocytus.

Meir'cillus's heart all but leaps into his throat. She jumped! 

It takes him about a quarter second to follow.