milliways_bar | (no subject)

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ramon salazar

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The tall figure of Asandir sweeps into the bar from the tower where Sethvir lives. This is the easiest place to step in and out of Athera, for him.

His robes are patched, at the edge of serviceable and ragged, but this is the way that he always dresses. The ragged clothing does nothing to disguise the aura of arrogant power that defines him.

Live long enough, powerful enough, and it becomes an almost inevitable side effect.

((OOC: Arithon can still be found here.))

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A cat enters the bar. It's not always a cat and it's rarely this dirty but running through the forest will do that to fur. It doesn't take long for yellow eyes to fall upon the old sorceror - Sanluin starts to clean himself up. It's calming, and he needs to talk to Asandir. Been in this form a while now anyway and his blood's starting to cool.

He glances down, and understands where that name came from.

"Good evening, Sanluin. I do not speak the tongue of that animal, so I shall have to wait to answer the questions in your eyes until you have returned to yourself."

Nothing, apparently, ruffles the Sorcerer.

Apparently not. Ramon is not surprised.

It doesn't take too long. Long enough that he has time to clean the dirt from his fur, returning it to its normal sleekness. Long enough to shake a few times, and stretch as cats do.

...and then, he's Ramon again, easing on to a barstool and calmly ordering a cold beer.

'Hi. Sorry about that.'

He's rather subdued tonight but that's not surprising. He just wants to ask his questions, then go.

"It is not a problem. It does answer several questions that I had."

Eventually every secret becomes widely known. Asandir can wait,

"You have questions."

'About the name? I thought it was more to do with the s'Falenn coat of arms but whatever works I guess.'

He has a long drink of beer, then nods.

'Arithon says there's trouble here. You have any idea what it is?'

"That as well."

He follows the lines of Ath, and at times that means that he follows the demands of things he does not understand. Getting a member of the Fellowship to admit that is rather like arm wrestling a Centaur.

He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and looks around.

And then, without any sort of warning or hint of movement to come, he is standing up with a hand moving toward his sword,

"Desh-theire."

Ramon stares.

...

'What?!'

He can't be right about that. Right?

The man who showed not a flicker of emotion when he attempted to decide if he was going to give Ramon five hundred extra years or kill him out of hand looks disturbed.

One might even consider "afraid", briefly, before dismissing it as a foolish idea.

"It is here."

Ramon doesn't process enough to catergorise the sorceror's expressions - apart from the fact that the man looks ruffled. And that's enough to make him ruffled - even more, that is - because he's been around him enough to know that it rarely happens.

'Fuck. Are you sure? Because...' He thinks on Arithon's memories, wanting to get this right. '... Lysaer isn't here. He has to be here to get rid of it doesn't he?'

Fuck.

"Light and shadow."

The Sorcerer affirms,

"I shall see what I can do."

He is not hopeful.

His non-hopefullness isn't that reassuring and Ramon says so.

'You're not filling me with confidence here amigo. What's the worst that could happen with this?'

"Everyone within this place is caught in its grips, Arithon is killed, and Desh-theire takes over first this place and then every universe which touches it."

Asandir's voice is deadpan and without hint of humor,

"If you give me permission, I will ward your mind."

He tries, for a moment, to tell himself that Asandir is being overly dramatic. Except - he's not and he knows he's not.

'How do you mean? Make me immune to it?'

"Block it from having the ability to enter your mind and take knowledge from you as well as curse you."

He affirms, glancing around with a frown,

"I would ask that you warn people. Please."

'That'll be fine.'

He doesn't mind magic. Just some of the people who wield it. Probably because he's slightly jealous of them - but not too much.

'I'll warn people. What about Arithon though? Can he just stay out of the bar?'

It's just dawning on him that he has to keep Arithon and Bianca safe from this thing.

As soon said as done, and there is nothing to show for it. Unless you happen to be a Sorcerer, of course.

"That, Sanluin, is up to you and him. He does not tend to do as I desire."

As close to the opposite as Arithon can manage, most of the time, actually.

'So you're not going to help at all? With anything?'

He's a bit too frazzled by the day (week month) so far to be angry, and this news has thrown him. Because he's got no idea how to protect two people from a mistwraith. He'll come up with something, he's sure - whether it'll work or not is the thing.

"I am going to attempt to ward against any more of it from coming through, any who request such things, and seek methods to replace Lysaer's gift with those from people here."

He says in return, looking down at Ramon with expressionless eyes,

"I will find ways to mark those who may have already been touched, and to release them if at all possible. I will not save one world at the cost of all of the rest of them."

He raises his hands in mute apology.

'Fair enough. Any chance of any of the other Fellowship turning up to help?'

Might be useful, he thinks.

"Each one of us who leaves Athera is another possibility that the fabric of the universe will dissolve."

He says blandly,

"If needed, yes, but if there is any possibility that we who are here can fix it they should not come."

Dissolving the fabric of the Universe? That's a bad thing, yes. Ramon sighs.

'Yeah, alright. Well, there's enough powerful people here. I guess if they can't fix it, no one can. Must be someone that can generate light in the quantities needed.'

It occurs to him that Raven might be able to do something, he's rather more than just 'powerful'. He really doesn't want to have to ask him though, he hates that creature.

There are lots of people to ask. This is the good thing.

The bad thing is that 90% of them hate the sort of people that Ramon is.

"I shall post a notice as soon as I have pen and ink to write one."

He says with a faint frown, and a nod.

Ramon looks at him, wondering if he's serious. Then turns to the bar and asks for paper and a pen.

'That do?'

Yes. This is a situation where Ramon and his reputation aren't of the most helpful. Still, he'll try.

"Thank you."

He thinks for a moment, and then begins to write. His handwriting is with a machine's precision; no computer could form letters with more regularity.

Ramon stands with a sigh. He's got stuff to think over - not least of which, how he's going to tell Random he's moving back to the bar for the duration.

'I'll leave you to it then. I need to go find Arithon.'

He nods, and posts the notice.

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