Ionnya. A nation finally largely united between its two races, after centuries of division, brought together largely by Meir'cillus and the High Priestess, with somewhat less help from the gradually strengthening Queen. Now, though...it seems as though the drow are distinctly in control. And only the lesser percentage are happy with that. The atmosphere is somber and pensive, as it has been for years now...most villages are largely intact, but not all.

---

Ilitair

Ionnya I

---

Orrin appears on the upper lip of an unimpressive mountain pass and looks around, considering. Running the vague picture he has of Meir'cillus through his mind, looking down and around. He couldn't have appeared that far from him, could he?

"... right over there. Right over there! If you set that trap in the wrong place I will make sure you go home in ten separate coffins!" A short, austere little Drow stands in the center of a bowl shaped depression in front of a set of caverns, barking orders. "This is the last stand, so if we give less than are best, that will be the reputation we take to hell!"

Huh. Well, that would almost certainly answer the question even without the drow's appearance ringing a bell. Heh. He sounds like a young me. Except smarter. Now. Don't shoot me. Don't shoot me. Don't shoot, see? This last bit as he starts jumping carefully down the rock face towards the gathered forces, aware of how conspicuous his pale hair and clothes are against the rock face...and taking pains to keep it that way. Fully expects to be seized or something, he's fine with pretty much anything except shot.

Rey'deyono looks up from where she's sitting quietly on her feet and fletching arrows, at the sudden appearance of a slightly agitated presence. Quietly catches a nearby soldier's attention and points Orrin's way.

The soldier, a fairly typical member of Rey'deyono and Meir'cillus loyals, is a just out of teenaged, ragged man who looks like he could use a year to rest. Still, orders from her are orders, even if they're unspoken, and he trots that way, snagging a few allies in the process. Weapons ready.

"Identify yourself,' he calls, none too original.

"My name's Orrin Shay-tiono. I need to speak to a Meir'cillus." He's even smiling just a little. The dumen is reading faces. Yeah, they have no idea what the hell he is. No dumen on this world, evidentally. Still, his manner is pretty casual and unconcerned for a guy with half a dozen swords ready to poke him. And not in the fun way Yue wants to, either.

"Ono?" The lead soldier glances back. That explains the appearance... sort of. To them, Ono more or less means 'weird looking'. "Any weapons on you? Lose them, if so."

"Fair enough." He doesn't have many. A crossbow, and a couple of multi-functional daggers. Holds these out. "Want me to put a pretty bow on them?"

"Yes," a certain former king answers over the mumbling of his soldiers, pointed there by one of the lookouts. Meir'cillus covers his chest with his arms, and waits, tapping his foot. "If it's not too much trouble. Or you can explain to me why I should be here when I have work to do over there."

"That works too." The dumen looks over to the nobility sort, face still pleasant. "Because whatever you're doing won't matter whatsoever if someone comes in the next few days to kill you or draft you into an Armageddon-esque battle, which they almost certainly will. I wanted to grab your ear first." Catches the fact that Meir'cillus only has one ear, and tries to not break face at the accidental pun.

"Lots of people want to kill me. What do you have to do with it?" Meir ignores the ear comment. He'll cremate this idiot, given half a reason, so the glib jab doesn't seem all that much of a price.

"The forces of hell would have no problem about finishing it out, and there wouldn't be much you could do about it." Orrin tilts his head a little, finding a medium between himself, his assassin/military-esque side, and the nobility bit he's gotten from his wife's family to create a manner that seems appropriate to the situation and audience. "I just came to see about recruiting you before they do, and mostly sequestering you and anyone dear to you," he's noted the manner and fixations of a certain priestess heading this way, "before they get here. The difference is I won't kill you if you refuse."

Meir can feel Rey approaching, sort of, and the implication galls him. Not enough to turn aside a warning. "You'll have to do more explaining than that to get me to abandon a fortified position."

"It's a complex story and would take some time to start throwing out things I think you'll grab at at random. What do you want to know?"

Rey stops silently nearby, near Meir'cillus's side but far enough back and off to the side that she can get out of the way for the stronger soldiers to protect her if the need be. She's getting the hang of this "war" thing, sadly.

"Proof." Meir'cillus isn't discounting Orrin's story. Heaven knows he's seen his share of unusual things, and Orrin's notion about the forces of hell isn't all that far-fetched.

Orrin considers this dutifully. "Tricky," he concedes. "We mostly have word of mouth ourselves. From damned reliable sources, but still words." Of course a reasonable person wants proof. Damn. "We fanned out entirely too fast, since this has turned into a rather pressing matter. Give me a moment on this particular important detail."

Meir's lip curls a little bit. "We'll hang onto your gear. If you're honest, you'll be back for it anyway. You're dismissed."

Orrin has to snicker after a moment. "God but you're a bitch. At least I know why you were on the list for wartime officers." Pauses. Looks to Rey. "Milady, you're a priestess, yes?"

Rey nods once. "That is correct."

"Does your order cite signs of a final battle?"

"Of course." Most large religions do.

"How many of them are manifest?"

A pause. "Many," the priestess admits quietly. "However," she's careful to add, "it is not the first time in history so many signs have aligned without fruition."

Meir puts himself between Rey'deyono and Orrin, what little amusement there was in his eyes gone now. "You would do well to prove your case before trying to sway her."

"That's what I'm trying to do." Orrin is, of course, quick to look back to the drow. "At least I can prove one part of my claims. Another Armageddon is building, all of the forces are rattling steel plus a new faction. The first indication we had was in the assassination of a ridiculously high-level sorceror who we later found out was meant to be the supreme commander of the mortal end. This led to our home being temporarily wiped out by two Overseers of Hell. A goddess ally slipped us the information that this was due to another Ragnarok impending, and dozens of recent, seemingly freak events both small and cataclysmic snapped together in quick succession. A loyal apprentice betrayed my wife for a fifth faction after 'inheriting' a jinneyeh wife. That same faction propositioned us for our help as well. My daughter's been propositioned to join the ranks of hell by one of its queens. High level assassinations and attempted assassinations are happening around the board, most in the last twenty-four hours. Goddesses, and one of the most powerful mortal psions alive today. A time sorcerer invincible for all practical purposes was attacked, a foolhardy move unless there's something bigger brewing. After one of the Divines' best fighters went missing, their leader gave my wife a list of the next recruits, citing that they could be recruited for us or them, just so long as they didn't side with the fifth faction. Name the proof you'd like to see from any of that, and I would be happy to provide it."

Meir'cillus listens calmly to all that, still skeptical. It'd be an intricate one, but nothing says all of that isn't just a fabrication. Although...

"Bring me the list, then." The former king glances back to Rey'deyono, wishing he could know what she thinks about this right now.

"Fair enough." Orrin turns to leave, leaving his weapons. He'll be back, after all.

Meir watches him until he's out of sight. "Rey," he looks to his beloved, visage softening as ever, "what do you think?"

"He concerns me," Rey admits. "But not so much for his words." She looks up to her fiance. "So much as that I can't place his race. He claimed that his surname was Tiono, although it was hyphenated with another. If his eyes are solid-coloured for the same reason the rest of my family's are...black is not an auspicious sign. Not at all. Someone like Felara or an utterly black sorcerer or a demon would have eyes like that. On the other hand, his lips don't appear painted, and his overall bearing and aura are off. His race being different would also ease the superficial eye concern. But on that note... his presence is almost vampiric, but that wouldn't fall on the side of mortals any more than demonic. Although that isn't necessarily an inherent evil...it does make me question which side he's actually fighting for." A pause. "It is true that there are many signs of the apocolypse pending, though. There's only once in Church records that there have been so many. And if he was lying, his emotional control in superb to the point of almost certainly having heavy psionic training...else he was telling the truth."

During her explanation Meir'cillus dismisses the soldiers, so that he can speak privately with his wife-to-be.  He listens carefully to her, as he tends to more than with anyone else.

"If his list is convincing, then perhaps we should listen to him. I trust your feelings on this, love." He offers her a reassuring smile. "If nothing else, he can do nothing to us that we cannot escape."

Rey has to smile at him for that, warmly. "There is little that could be planned against us, that we wouldn't have already evaded something more dangerous."

He returns it, as well. Life has been difficult, yes; however, Meir'cillus genuinely feels that all the running, fighting, and hiding they've done together has done nothing if not bring them closer together. It's been worth it.

"Right. Now, until this fellow gets back, I would like to hang back in the fortress. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. It does beg the question, though, Meir'cillus...if we were depart, what would happen to the men?" Of course it isn't "you depart," that doesn't even properly add up anymore.

"He said 'sequestering anyone dear to you'," Meir smiles a bit as he explains, "which is why you and them men come with me, or I do not go."

Rey chuckles quietly, taking his arm as they head back towards the bulk of what few troops they have. "You are enjoying this entirely too much, Lord Yerosyn. Taking a remark that was obviously intended to appeal to you through me, and pushing it straight back against his throat to acknowledge or to lose everything against."

"Well now. I couldn't abandon them." Years ago, he could've done it and chuckled. Now, though... no. Simply, no. "If he had the gall to imply that you would come to harm, he can certainly swallow his pride and have the gall to submit to terms."

And this is why she's marrying him. Mostly, she just smiles. "Of course." Considers things quietly. An Armageddon battle...? Stilll...she is not so shocked and fearful as she would have been years ago. "You and he seem to have similar dispositions, I think," she observes. "To some degree."

"We agree that we're each a bitch, that's sure." Meir pats her arm, smiling at her.

She grins in return. Precisely it.

Orrin actually isn't too long in returning. Felina had, on a psychic impulse, made a copy of the letter and left it in the hall leading to the portals being used.

Meir's looking out for him, and calls down to him from a fortress window. "Come up, bitch! Second floor!"

Orrin has to smirk. "But you haven't bought me dinner yet!" he returns, before heading past the guards and inside.

Meir waits impatiently, and waves the guards away when Orrin finally arrives in the mock war room he and Rey are waiting in.

"Just so you're aware," the former despot begins with a wave of his glowing fingertips, "friendly terms mean I don't kill you. I apologize, but that's the way in war."

"Understood." And it is. The dumen holds out Pretender's Note. "Here." Smiles a little at Rey, bowing his head in polite greeting.

Meir takes it, glances over it. Blinks. "Either it is real, or you are an idiot." He hands it over to his beloved, eyeing Orrin. "To think I would ever work alongside Vayen again."

"Falls under the 'some of these people hate each other' note I was cautioned with, then?" Orrin's a touch more cautious, feeling out just how precarious this ground is or isn't.

Rey blinks slowly. Felara and her brother as well. And Thenai, and Vega. "There are quite a few names that we know on this list," she observes quietly.

"Plenty we don't, though. Can you tell us why you need these particular folks?" Meir's much closer to convinced now, though still... maintaining that healthy skepticism.

"Honestly? Don't have a clue. As far as I can tell, it's based on individual merit and, to a much smaller extent, personality. I had no idea who you were no one did, but you're one of the stronger military commanders I've ever seen, it shows in your manner and was immediately obvious. Some are more similarly obvious in value, some more than others...the Malufel is a demi-god that can manipulate time itself, one of three virtually unbeatable creatures of the sort. Mi'ehna absorbs the energy and abilities of others, and is potentially extremely strong. You're military. And..."

"Tel-tiono?" Rey inquires, not looking at Orrin.

The dumen definitely notices something amiss in her voice...gazes thoughtfully her way for a few moments, then just nods, unable to decipher more. "Certainly. One of the most powerful mortal casters in recent history, if not the single most."

The priestess looks back up to the dumen. "He's dead. For...millenia."

Ahhh... "this isn't the Tel-tiono of this plane, it's a parallel version. The Celestial Plane bridges several parallels. In every parallel, either Tel-tiono or his daughter is dead...in one nearby, he was the survivor."

Meir is looking at Rey, wondering what she's thinking once again. Finally, his warm - and relatively virgin - smile crosses his lips in her direction.

"Our soldiers must be cared for," he quietly demands, "and I go nowhere without her. If you can assure me that, and Rey'deyono is fine with it, then I will agree to your odd little story's terms."

Orrin pauses at this. "How many soldiers?"

The former Dual member glances again to Rey. "Less than a hundred, now, is that right my love?"

Her eyes sadden a bit, but she nods. She is the secondary medic, after all. "Ninety-four, not counting ourselves."

Orrin groans inwardly...still...if worst comes to to worst, and Ansendul doesn't allow it, his ass is in the fire a little bit and the troops get quartered at Helantri Deru. They probably won't be attacked anyway...if there wasn't an officer recruit there, it wouldn't be worth such an aggressive attack on the Ono household or the difficulty of cracking its shields. After a few moments, he nods. "That is perfectly acceptable." Looks to Rey. After a few moments, the priestess nods.

"Alright then. We'll set about gathering the men. Meanwhile," he looks at Rey, "gather your things. I will carry them for you." Neither of them have much, really,except one another.

Which is plenty. She smiles, and rises. "Thank you, Meir'cillus."

"Is there anything that I can do?" Orrin inquires.

Meir ponders that, beaming at his beloved priestess. He'd like to keep Orrin away from Rey, and in sight. "You can get whatever gate you used to come here ready to go."

The dumen nods. "I'll meet you where we first spoke, then, when you're ready." Bows his head to the two of them, and takes his leave.

Rey watches him go, and shakes her head. "Never a dull moment."

Meir turns to her, concern filling his pale eyes. "Is that a 'I'm glad there is' or 'why is there' never a dull moment, my priestess?"

Rey smiles at him, expression soft and reassuring. He's so sweet to always worry about her. "A neutral observation I think, my lord, or as near to one as it can be. For the largest part, I'm curious about what where Vayen will fit into all of this." This said as she rises to begin folding her two or three under-dresses neatly. "I would hardly expect him to agree to a venture like this, too intent on his own invincibility...it will make for interesting interaction between us if he does, though, and that concerns me. Although if he does not..." she allows herself a cautious smile. "Even if it is for another conflict, the prospect of leaving this one is illogically thrilling."

The drow lord, or former lord anyway, understands this completely. "It would be nice to be done fighting this one for a while." Pauses. "I'm sorry, Rey. For all of this."

"Meir'cillus..." The priestess finished folding a few things together and closing a small bag that represents the entirety of her personal possessions, and stands up to face him. "How many times have we had this discussion?" She walks towards him. "This is not your fault...you are the reason that the troops we have are still alive. You are the reason that I am still alive...I mean, goodness, I would still be in Vayen's keep were it not for you." She wraps her arms gently over his shoulders, deep blue eyes gazing quietly into his. "I do not pretend to know why the Twins are leading as they are. However, it was and remains my choice to walk the way with you. And I have made it."

The drow lord can barely stand to hear her say that. It enthralls him and terrifies him at the same time. He's known for some time, in his heart, that neither he nor Rey will come out of this alive. Maybe this new development will change that. Maybe not.

"We'll have it many more times," he smiles a bit, "until my conscience promises me that you will not suffer for it."

And she smiles in return, after a few moments. "Just so long as I am present for them, Lord Yerosyn. Besides, if walking with you is suffering, I fail to realize why the religious seek paradise."

Meir'cillus would blush, if he could. She's come so far out of her shell in these last months.

He holds out a hand to take some of her things for her. "Shall we?"

The priestess nods. She heads back over to retrieve the bag and hands it to him, and finishes packing what few things weren't already in place in her medical kit. The field surgeon manages the rest. "We shall." Smiles a bit at Meir'cillus, perfectly willing to follow her king to the ends of the Earth.

And he's willing to go them, for her. He leads her outside, careful of course to watch their step, and gives a few commands to the first soldier he sees. Fine. All of that work, and they're picking up and leaving... it does leave a few of the soldiers grumbling.

Orrin, for his part, is just hanging out. He can't just leave the portal open, he's quite sure a certain ice elemental would do her best to flay him for that.

It doesn't take long. Meir is really, really persuasive when he wants to be. Within a little while he leads Rey and his poor beaten-down force to Orrin, still ready to fend off an attack if necessary.

"So." The drow glances at the dumen. "What now?"

Orrin stands up, and gets the unusually door to the unusually reactive maze open. Holds his hand out. "After you. Unless you want me to step in and not get vaporized or something first."

"What's this I see in your future?" Meir blinks, holding up his hands. "Could it be your smart ass handed to you? Heavens!"

He looks to Rey, though. Normally he would send a soldier in first. But...

Orrin shrugs. He'd thought it was a reasonable offer.

Rey smiles a little at Meir'cillus, and looks to the dumen. "If you would not mind."

Orrin grins a little, points at her. "See, I like that one. She's nice." And heads into the doorway.

And seeing him unfried, Meir nods to his army, and all proceed behind Orrin.

Not too far behind, standing on a stone and nearly perfectly camouflaged in a thick pate of sand and dust, Remica Vega watches them go with the cold, heartless gaze of one of Vayen's assassins.

As soon as the last soldiers are through, the gate to The Millenium Maze closes.