Duendewood vs Sol Povos 3: This One Time in Fanaxia

"Marshall?" asked Azrael, so surprised that he forgot to be indifferent. 

 

They were sitting in a tavern in the city of Styre, in the otherworldly island-world of Fanaxia, where they were once again trapped. Their dealings with the servants and artifacts of Vecna always seemed to lead them back here, and Ruin had long since come to believe that Vecna had been the Dark One who was defeated and executed in Fanaxia long ago.

"Alexej? Leira?" Geddy sounded equally surprised.

"Friends!" proclaimed Alexej, lifting his guisarme and accidentally banging the ceiling with it.

Ruin turned to see the human snake-priest Marshall Mercy, in the company of two unfamiliar humans and... a dragon-man. A half-dragon. A silver-scaled half-dragon in armor, wearing a very large, single-edged sword.

"You must be Tavros," he said, and then he teleported.

He didn't go far, just up to the rooftop across the street; he didn't want to risk colliding with anyone or anything.

Yes, that was definitely Tavros. And he was definitely here, in Fanaxia, somehow.

And he was every bit as big as Aesa had said.

Okay, calm down. He hasn't come looking for me. Why would he? He probably doesn't even know about... anything. He took a deep breath, then another. Right. He's just here on business. Elfbane's business. He frowned at that, because that could be a problem. On the other hand, the half-dragon was traveling with Marshall Mercy, and Mercy -- aside from declaring the whole of Duendewood a snake-murdering moral wasteland -- had been well-disposed towards them. Which means they're probably here looking for something, just like we are. He paused. Maybe just like we are: something associated with Vecna. The more he thought about it, the likelier it seemed. So either they're still looking, or else they found it and now they're looking for a way back, also just like we are.

He walked to the edge of the roof, looked down at the street, and then caught hold of one of the tiny waverings of reality and used it to take himself back down there. He walked into the tavern through the front door, cautious but no longer panicked.

Inside he found Geddy talking miles-every-minute in his reunion with the two unfamiliar humans, and Azrael explaining something about magical portals and planes of reality to Marshall in his bored, supercilious tones. Tavros was standing off to one side, looking bemused and also still huge, but he turned as Ruin approached. "You have a strange way of introducing yourself, my friend," he said, and extended a massive hand. "Do I know you?"

Ruin shook his head. "Anica and Aesa spoke very highly of you." He reached out and clasped the man's wrist, feeling the texture of scales under his fingers and the gentle strength of the paladin's grip as he clasped Ruin's wrist in return.

"You've been to the temple? Recently?" Tavros sounded pleasantly surprised, and seemed willing to overlook the question of why someone speaking highly of him would cause Ruin to immediately teleport away at his arrival. Ruin wasn't sure whether it hadn't occurred to him or if Tavros was just being polite, but either way he was grateful. "How are they doing?"

"Well, Anica's still Anica," Ruin said, "And Aesa's officially a priest; she came to some kind of arrangement with Amun that lets her use a scimitar."

"Battle-priest!" exclaimed Tavros. "She must be thrilled."

"She was. And I met Tarric, but only briefly. You were pretty close to all three of them, weren't you?"

Tavros nodded and his expression changed, but his face was unfamiliar enough that Ruin couldn't read it. Melancholy? Regret? Something like that. "Yes. Anica and Tarric and I used to be inseparable, at least until the King called for my service. We got into a very great deal of trouble together, but I like to think that we did some real good as well. And Aesa was... something like our little sister. It pleases me to know that she's finding her way."

Ruin nodded at that; it pleased him, too. "So you're here on Elfbane's business?" he asked. 

Tavros looked pained. "Please don't call him that. He is my liege... and my uncle."

"He's also doing a very great deal of harm to my people, and his own," Ruin replied, "but I don't suppose you're a part of that." 

"No." Tavros shook his head. "We were sent here to learn more of Vecna and his servants."

Ruin nodded, unsurprised. "How did you manage that? We had to steal a major divine artifact from the Hierophant's guards to make the crossing."

"A rather unpleasant magical ritual performed by the Archmage himself, which required us to die. Or almost die. I'm unclear on the details. Alas, the portal we came through vanished in the midst of a tremendous cataclysm some time back, and for the moment we are trapped here." 

Interesting. "As are we," Ruin admitted. His neck was getting stiff from looking up at the half-dragon. He looked the man over, muttered, "a god for all peoples," and then said: "It sounds like both of us have the same problem: Vecna and the Order of Secrets. Why don't we pull over another table? There may be some things about Vecna and this place that you don't know yet, and I'm sure there are things you've learned that would be good for us to know."

"There is also," Tavros said, "the matter of the highly evil, extremely intelligent magical sword that directed us here. It seems to think you have something we need in order to get back."

Ruin blinked. Intelligent, evil magical sword. Right. "On second thought, let me see if the tavernkeeper has a private room we could meet in."