Date: February 26, 1998
Place: The Pantheon - Haven
Cast: Damaris, GreyWolf, Helius, Justinius, Rani, Raziel, Xiouc
Scene: The aging emperor of the Empyreans pays a visit to a local tavern one evening.

The Pantheon - Haven:
      Bright frescoes decorate the walls of this large, pentagonal room, depicting the rise of the city of Haven with Delphi at its heart. The domed ceiling is supported by four marble "atlantes"--statues carved to resemble youths from each race. The figures are expertly rendered and painted, if somewhat stylized, and they hint that this establishment caters to clientele from each. A long, marble-topped bar runs along the last wall where refreshment may be ordered.
      The air is laden with the smell of richly prepared foods and ambrosia, suiting the exclusive nature of the tavern. Rose marble tiles decorate the floor, which sinks toward the center of the room in a series of three pentagonal terraces. Situated at the two higher terraces are fine tables of polished oak--those on the outermost terrace long enough to seat larger parties. The lowest terrace features a shallow pool, lined with greenery and replenished by small fountains.

Xiouc grins, "The situation in the city is always sensitive, it so seems. I'm actually not here on a pleasure mission, although it is a fine addition to see you. I'm looking around to get a sense for the city." He holds his cup up, "Instead of just having these."

Damaris faces Xiouc attentively, but her gaze drifts briefly toward the door. Then remains upon the man who's entered.

GreyWolf casts a glance toward Xiouc, curiosity flirting behind his green eyes.

Helius nods slightly, "I wonder if anyone has actually been keeping an eye on the number of Varati military members in this town." He murmurs then blinks a little as he catches movement over by the door, of course when he gets a good look at who it is he nearly coughs on his ambrosia (hmmms ambrosia trying to come out of the nose..must be a really _good_ feeling.

A breeze whistles in through the door, and heralds the arrival of the aging Emperor of the Empyreans. He's flanked by two stalwart Praetorians, each of them looking a bit apprehensive, as if they wish nothing more than to take their lord back to his bed where he belongs. But the venerable old patriarch is determined. He's leaning heavily on a cane, his off-white wings folded along his back, and he's staring around the establishment with keen blue eyes that, unlike the rest of him, show no dimming with age.

Damaris murmurs to her table mates, "It is the Emperor..." she rises gracefully, facing Justinius, and bows slowly to him for a long moment.

GreyWolf senses the odd movement of air into the Pantheon, he slowly turns his head to the door. Surprise flies past his features....

Helius manages to swallow his Ambrosia as he stands and sets down his drink. He bows deeply to the Emperor.

GreyWolf slowly stands, facing the Emperor. He bows deeply, giving respect where it is due.

Damaris approaches Justinius rather quickly, and speaks low to a pair of Empyreans who stand at a nearby table. They nod, pick up their drinks, and move aside--freeing up a place for the aged man to sit. "Your Imperial Majesty..." she murmurs, and gestures gracefully to a seat.

Helius pulls out a chair for the Justinius to sit in at the table as he nears the table. He bows his head respectfully, "Can I get you something to drink, Your Majesty."

Raziel has arrived.

Still blocking the doorway, the Emperor's eyes skip from one patron to the other, and when they settle on Damaris, a thin smile adds more wrinkles to his wizened face. "Domina of the Tritonis House," he greets, his once-powerful voice now faded to little more than a grating whisper. "Courteous as always." Using his cane, he hobbles toward the table, and the Praetorians follow suit.

Raziel steps into the room, having noticed a large group of Praetorians from the sky overhead. His eyes widen as he realizes who is here.

Xiouc stands next to the Emperor's seat, his eyes suddenly alert to those entering and leaving this establishment. His eyes lingering on patrons.

Justinius' wings flutter and realign themselves along his back. He pauses beside the chair that Helius had just pulled out, fixing one eagle's eye on the helpful Empyrean. "Eh?" he queries, looking him over. "I do not know you. From what House do you come?"

GreyWolf has yet to blink, his eyes scanning the Emperor's movements. Clearly, this is the first time he has actually seen the Emperor. Even when his senses note the entry of a new comer, his glance does not shift.

Raziel simply stands, watching Justinius. A single Praetorian comes into the room after him, and stands behind Raziel's shoulder.

Damaris bows again to the Emperor, a warm smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. She glances proudly at Xiouc as well, then quirks a brow, watching Helius.

Helius bites his lower lip, "I've just arrived in Haven recently, your majesty.." He bows once more, "My name is Helius Alexian Diablas..." He says softly in a respectful town. He manages to do that bow without moving the chair away, this time he also remembers not to rear up till the good Emperor gives permission to do so.

The Praetorian guardsmen, noticeably, do not take seats. They place themselves on either side of the Emperor, two slender spears clutched in their hands. Pale eyes stare stonily forward, alert for any hint of hostility toward the aged monarch, whom they have sworn to protect.

Xiouc slides behind Helius, deftly removing the chair from his grasp, and returning to hold it for the Emperor.

Raziel sways slightly, to be steadied by the strong hand of the guard assigned to protect him. Tears roll unfettered down his pallid cheeks.

Helius stays bent over and doesn't give any protest as the chair is slid away. He wing flutter a little as they adjust to the bow he's holding.

GreyWolf backs out of his seat, opening it up for the taking.... eyes never leaving the Emperor.

"Right, right," Justinius remarks impatiently, gesturing for Helius to lift his head. "Enough fawning--had enough of it. Now, what is there in here that is fit to drink?" His pale eyes show a hint of mirth as he glances toward Damaris, and then the other Empyreans assembled. Carefully, with one hand placed upon the table for support, he lowers himself into the chair Xiouc holds out for him.

Damaris smiles. "That depends on what you favor, Majesty...there's a wonderful red wine here, but the ambrosia is passable as well.."

Helius straightens up and murmurs, "The Ambrosia is of good stock..the best I've had in my stay here."

GreyWolf says nothing, knowing better then to speak before being addressed in such circumstances. Not that he has any clue what he would say....

Justinius settles himself into the chair and leans his cane against the table, placing his beringed hands in front of him. One finger taps restlessly against the table's surface. "I've not traveled all the way from our Civitas Dei to sip more ambrosia," he remarks. "Something more... exotic." His eyes dart restlessly around the tavern, finally settling on GreyWolf. "You," he barks. "Step forward. You are a Sylvan, no? Tell me, what do Sylvans drink?"

Damaris nods in agreement to the ambrosia comment, then moves discreetly nearer to Raziel. As the emperor's attention narrows on GreyWolf, she murmurs softly to the Empyrean, "Lord Raziel...you are vexed?"

Helius crosses his arms slightly as he looks over to Raziel curiously for a moment before looking back to the Emperor and the small group at the table.

GreyWolf, although startled, instantaneously regains self-control, "Yes, Sir. I am Sylvan." He pauses, "Personally, I enjoy the red wine here. Lady Rani makes excellent selections as far as that is concerned." He does not offer anymore then prompted for, and he bows deeply, waiting for the Emperor to signal him to rise. He obviously has taken a cue from Helius.

Raziel shakes his head slightly to Damaris.

Damaris looks doubtfully at Raziel's tear-streamed cheeks, but pries no further as she turns back to the interchange between Emperor and Sylvan.

Justinius waves one hand impatiently in GreyWolf's direction, apparently no more impressed by his display than he was by Helius'. "Red wine it is," he says, that crackly old voice still holding an echo of command. Ancient he may be, but not unobservant. The quiet exchange between Damaris and Raziel did not go unnoticed, and now he addresses the Head of House Thanatos. "You. Step forward. From what House do you hail?"

After the order of red wine, Damaris chuckles. "We owe our allegiances to Jove, to Tritonia, to Apollo...but we owe much thanks to Bacchus, Majesty." she slips back to her own table to retrieve her wine as well.

Apparently the Emperor expects someone to fetch his red wine for him, but neither of the Praetorians flanking him seem willing to leave their posts. One of them shoots a glance toward Helius, gesturing to the bar with his chin.

Raziel steps forward, and then falls to his knees. "I am Raziel, Your Majesty. Recently ascended to head of the House of Thanatos."

Helius nods faintly and moves over to the bar to place the order. He leans a little on the bar as he waits for the server to come with the drink.

Xiouc stands at attention behind the Emperor's seat, the three Praetorians forming a neat triangle around Justinius.

Helius nods his thanks to the `tender behind the bar as he carefully picks up the goblet of wine and makes his way back over to the table at which the Emperor sits.

The Emperor's mouth curls in distaste. "Up off your knees, boy. Our kind were not meant to kneel in the dust. Thanatos, you say? A fine House. Come, sit." He glances at the others assembled. "All of you. Quit gaping. I am no lares risen from the ashes." His mouth twists, wrinkles adding to the smirk. "Not dead, yet."

Attention off him, GreyWolf finally lets himself exhale. His eyes quickly shift around the room, scanning over everyone in the immediate area. The scan is quick and precise. He slowly backs off from the table, taking up a position behind a seat across the table and to the right of the Emperor.

Raziel rises to his feet, tears once again rolling down his cheeks. "Yes, your Majesty. Thank you, your Majesty. I am very honored, your Majesty." He feels for a chair, nearly falling as he slips into it, his wide eyes never moving from the Emperor.

Helius sets down the goblet before the Emperor before retaking his seat at the table with the rest. He smiles to Grey, "Sit, my friend."

Eyes lighting on Helius, the Emperor nods, pleased. "Very good." He gestures for one of the Praetorians to take the goblet from the Empyreal merchant, presumably to taste-test it first.

Damaris slips smoothly into a chair at the round table, at one side of the Emperor. "Would you like fruit, Majesty? Bread or cheese?" she murmurs.

Xiouc slides forward to inspect the goblet, before he takes a precise amount of wine between his lips, swallowing it in one fluid motion. After a moment's hesitation, he presents the goblet to Justinius.

One gnarled hand, heavy with its collection of rings, rises to accept the goblet from Xiouc. Justinius doesn't reply to Damaris just yet as he takes a sip of the crimson liquid, pausing afterwards to savor the taste. Apparently it meets with his satisfaction, for he nods after setting the goblet down. "Very fine, my Sylvan friend," he remarks, seeking out GreyWolf. "Ah, there you are. And what are you called?"

GreyWolf slowly nods saying, "I am GreyWolf, Sir."

Damaris smiles weakly as Xiouc volunteers for the tasting, knowing very well it's not just to determine the flavor of the wine.

Raziel moistens his dry lips, watching the Emperor with what can only be described as awe.

GreyWolf tries his hardest not to gawk, offering a light smile to the Emperor.

"Well, you're neither grey nor a wolf, but as you say," Justinius replies. His fingers tap against the table, and he turns his attention now to Damaris. Once more, that warmth he'd first shown suffuses his face with a smile. "Now then, what did you ask? Bread or cheese? No, they've stuffed me with enough food--supposed to keep me 'healthy.' But nothing keeps you healthy from old age, eh?" His pale eyes glimmer with a wry amusement.

Damaris laughs, and takes a grape for herself from the platter that was already resting on the table. "At least one can be old with a pleasantly full stomach, Majesty. It will help anchor you against the winds." she pops the grape into her mouth and chews delicately. "So, Majesty, what is your opinion of the Varati forces in Haven? Or would you rather not talk politics?"

Helius tilts his head to one side before taking a drink of his ambrosia. He slowly begins to regain his normal composure complete with faint smile.

"Not now, my dear. Had my fill of that, too. I didn't want to die until I'd seen a little more of this fabled city." Animatedly, his eyes dart around the room--the only animated part about him. It is clear, already, that even the short journey from the Palladium to this tavern was taxing. But only to his body--his mind and spirit still seem full of vigor. With a hint of humor, he eyes Raziel and says, "Close your mouth, boy. Something might fly in."

Xiouc grins, imperceptibly shaking his head at his sister, knowing the Emperor's mood.

Helius stifles a chuckle as he looks between the Emperor and Raziel. He reaches out to take a slice of fruit of the platter that is upon the table.

Raziel's mouth closes instantly. Actually, he bites his tongue, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Surely you will have many years to see many sights, your Majesty. Since I was a boy, you have remained unchanged, with not the mark of a single day upon your visage."

"Then you are blind, son of Thanatos. I'm no fool. But... it has been said that this is the city of miracles." Only now, fleetingly, does something like wistfulness or hope cross his expression, yet it is gone so quickly that it is easily overlooked. "Tell me more, then, about this city." Justinius seems to be addressing everyone, inviting an open discussion.

Damaris dabs at her mouth with a bit of linen, perhaps hiding a smile at Raziel's effluent diplomacy.

Raziel finally tears his gaze from Justinius, and looks towards the ground. Chastened, perhaps, that his words didn't have the pleasing effect he had intended. After a moment, though, he looks up again and studies every line of the elder Empyrean's face.

Xiouc responds with characteristic military curtness, "This place seems defensible, sir." With a light sound of laughter in his voice, "And it would seem it offers everything that is necessary for a city, sir."

Damaris smiles at GreyWolf. "GreyWolf seems to know more than most of us about the goings-on in Haven..." she gestures expectantly at the Sylvan.

Helius nods in agreement with Xiouc, "Aye, it is...and when it comes to trade with out places and peoples...the Rialto is filled with merchants from all walks as well as a few merchants around thecity."

Damaris smiles dryly up at her brother.

Xiouc holds back a smirk.

Justinius listens to each comment, bobbing his head frequently, and appearing to grant each speaker an equal status--no one is ignored or overlooked. But, as Damaris had pointed out, GreyWolf may be the most knowledgeable, and it is therefore to the Sylvan that the emperor's attention finally turns.

GreyWolf clearly hesitates, but regains his confidence, "Haven offers people of all walks of life, of all races, Sir. There are all sorts of goings on, some wonderful, some questionable. As to whether that is desirable to you, is an entirely separate matter. There is a general feeling of respect, that is shared by mostly everyone. Mostly." He is bluntly honest.

GreyWolf shifts uncomfortably. Clearly unsure about what he just said.

Damaris finally chimes in, adding, "Indeed...it is a place of all races, Majesty...where all can blend and cooperate. It could be a place of such peace, of brotherhood, of progress...I see it as an inspiration, Majesty." Her voice trails off, and she takes a drink of wine after her outburst.

GreyWolf adds, "It is a place of freedom, Sir. And is indeed wonderful. Where else would I stand where I am at this moment?"

Helius says, "Too true."

Damaris nods once at GreyWolf, as he emphasizes her point.

Pale eyes rest thoughtfully on GreyWolf, then turn to Damaris for an equally lengthy consideration. The Emperor does not comment just yet, but his finger has ceased its tapping against the tabletop. "Freedom," he finally says in that harsh rasp. "Brotherhood. Peace. Noble ideals, no? But ideals are too often only that, and rarely achieve realization."

GreyWolf thinks for a moment, "Indeed, Sir. Haven has its flaws. But they are far overshadowed....." He trails off.

Helius murmurs, "Some ideals may be hard to achieve..the skies clouded with storms, but they are worth fighting the storms to gain and hold them close." He drinks his ambrosia, "Those who wish to have these ideals upheld will fight for them..against any challenger."

"Ahh," Justinius replies, turning his gaze upon Helius. "And that can be a dangerous thing. After all, it is the first taste of freedom that so often leads to rebellion. To a shakedown of the old ways, and of tradition. To change."

In any other situation, words like these would have launched Raziel into a fierce debate, but now he seems only vaguely aware of the conversation, still watching Justinius, with a gaze that would seem more natural directed towards an extraordinarily beautiful young woman.

Damaris' voice is low, husky. "They rarely achieve realization when thwarted by other noble goals..." for some reason, her gaze drifts to Raziel..."Goals I hesitate to speak against in your Majesty's presence, as they're dear to the heart of the Empyre."

"But our people have not always been of one heart and one mind," Justinius quietly reminds Damaris.

Helius nods slightly, "There are some who probably wish to have the goals of freedom and equality squashed beneath their heels all for the taste of power." He cocks his eyebrow as he looks to the Emperor, "But sometimes it's not a shakedown of the old ways that is needed...as for tradition..that changes over time without force."

"Not all traditions change," replies Justinius, turning his attention now to Helius. And, perhaps deliberately, there is a soft breeze that is felt throughout the room--originating at the table, stirring hair and clothes and feathers, and circling around the entire tavern before it dissipates. It, too, is a reminder.

Helius nods slightly, "As the saying goes, 'The more things change, the more they stay the same'...it can easily be applied to traditions."

Damaris smiles thinly at the Emperor. She murmurs, half to herself, "But the fate of Adonais of Archeus haunts me, and those who think like me."

Damaris smoothes her hair absently after the magical gust of wind.

Helius ruffles his feathers in the gust as his eyebrow arches a little at what Damaris says under her breath.

Xiouc looks on stoically, a pillar behind the Emperor.

GreyWolf hesitantly adds, "I am not so sure that the problem cannot be found on all fronts. From within the governments of the races, to within the people themselves. Not one single body or person is a fault. But all people are issue." /What? A sylvan just said that?/ "Perhaps that is the one single problem with Haven, there are many interests here. Many traditions all held dear by their races." His voice is very quiet. "Or is it not a problem?" He leaves it open.

Justinius' pale eyes snap immediately to Damaris. The breeze that had sprung up snuffs a candle before it dies down, and if the effort taxed him, it is not shown in the Emperor's wrinkled countenance. "That is a name unspoken by most members of our Aegis." If he is chastising her, or merely curious, it is unclear.

Raziel jumps slightly in his seat, his gaze is ripped from Justinius to Damaris.

The emperor's attention is too fixed upon the Head of House Tritonis for him to have noticed, or heeded, the Sylvan's comment.

Helius' brows knit as he tries to remember what Damaris is referring to.

Damaris glances again at Raziel, then frankly to the Emperor. "Perhaps many of them have forgotten, Majesty. I did not even know the name until it was mentioned to me once. Yes, as a warning. I read about him, and the fate of his House, and I take the warning to heart. Rest assured, Majesty."

Damaris neglects to say whether she'll heed the warning.

The intensity of the Emperor's gaze softens, and a slight smile curls his lips once more, restoring his former amiability. "I only ask that you take care, domina. Some would be... unsettled by that unfortunate reminder from our past." Here, his eyes rest none-too-subtly on Raziel--the young man's start had not been overlooked.

Raziel finds his tongue, and speaks, "Noble goals are wonderful things. And it is good to have them, but someone always will rise up, to destroy what is good. The Varati rose up, and destroyed the peace once, destroyed the glorious golden age, which Kronian had desired for his children. And then, his goals and wishes were forgotten, the ancestors put aside. That was the folly of the house which no longer exists. To forget the order that Kronian had established, and to think that men were more wise than the Lares. He was punished, but we all still suffer for his folly."

Helius drinks his ambrosia, a faint smile hiding behind the goblet he drinks from. He hmmms softly as Raziel's' comment.

"You have the tongue of a true orator," Justinius remarks, his pale eyes hooded now as he regards Raziel. "But I wonder if you've the mind of a diplomat."

Damaris opens her mouth, as if she's anxious to debate, but remembers the company she keeps and takes a drink of wine instead. She rubs her temple lightly, closing her eyes.

Helius' brow furrows as he casts a glance to Damaris, "Is your head troubling you, Damaris?" He says quietly, trying not to disturb the conversation between the Emperor and Raziel.

GreyWolf's eyes scan the table, looking for a drink long departed. Disappointment flickers behind his green eyes.

Damaris murmurs to Helius, "All my years of arguing with Raziel Thanatos, and he's never changed..."

Raziel says softly, "I will speak as I may please the Lares, your Majesty. Diplomacy is the art of telling lies that make men happy. I wish only to speak the truth, and by doing so, stir men's hearts to remember the glory of our... your empire."

Helius ahhhs and nods slightly with a faint smile, "I understand..' he murmurs, "Seems I have seen the opposites of the same coin this day."

Damaris finally interrupts..."Diplomacy, Raziel, is the art of understanding that there may be more than one truth...and learning to negotiate between them."

Rani comes through the heavy curtains which close of the arched opening near the bar.

Helius speaks up, "Diplomacy is also the art of getting what you want while making the other person thing that they're getting what they want out of the deal."

GreyWolf adds, perhaps uninvited, "It certainly can seem there is more then one truth in Haven. Each race has its' own truth. Diplomacy is -required-."

Xiouc eyes Rani suspiciously, his wings furling ever-so-slightly.

A soft, rasping chuckle issues from the Emperor's throat. "You speak of glory and tell flowery tales of the 'legendary days' of the almighty Kronian. But our empire was built on lies and war and bloodshed and hatred just like any other. You tell me, is there glory in that?" Once again, there is a fierceness in his aged visage, but it passes, eclipsed by weariness. "Enough of this prattle. I thank you for the conversation." He tips his head to GreyWolf. "For the wine." And to Damaris, "And for the company. But it is time I returned, before my 'protectors' return me bodily to that monstrosity of a bed."

Helius cocks his head to one side then looks over to the door to see who comes in. He smiles a little as he sees the Proprietress of the Pantheon come in. He murmurs, "Good eve, Rani."

Through the curtained arch, the Varati matron of the tavern steps out an unrolled scroll in hand. She is reading it carefully, as two young Atlantean boys (servers by the looks of them) move about her sari to get back into the kitchen. She clucks at them with a smile before looking up to see who her patrons are this afternoon. She nods to Helius, before her golden eyes fall on the aged emperor for a moment.

Raziel rises to his feet, that he may not be sitting while the Emperor stands.

Indeed, the Praetorians flanking the Emperor on either side are looking antsy, though it takes a keen eye to detect such on their stoic faces.

Damaris rises gracefully from the table, as well, her head bowed briefly--but not bowing enough to be objectionable to the emperor's declaration against groveling.

GreyWolf continues to stand, as he has been for what now seems like an eternity.

Xiouc offers his arm to the Emperor, as he holds the seat for him to rise from.

Helius stands with the rest of the group and bows his head slightly as well in farewell to the Emperor.

Damaris says, "It has been our great pleasure and honor, Majesty. Rest well. Perhaps we can speak back at the Palladium at some point."

Raziel again stares at the Emperor in awe.

Rani moves off towards the door, giving the Empyrean Imperial guards a wide berth to arrive near the door; She holds the scroll behind her back, golden eyes still upon the Emperor, waiting for him to pass as he leaves.

Justinius grips his cane with a frail, age-spotted hand, and slowly starts to rise. He is not too proud to refuse assistance, either, for he nods to Xiouc and levers himself up out of the chair, clasping the young Praetorian's arm for support. It is only when he has gained his feet that he tips his head to Damaris. "I would enjoy that, my dear. Come visit me--there is little enough to keep me entertained."

Xiouc deftly pushes the Emperor's seat in, as he aids him to the door with the other two guards.

Damaris smiles warmly, eyes crinkling, and slips out of the way of the Praetorian guards.

GreyWolf stands far off to the side, saying nothing. Only observing.

Raziel walks backwards, not willing to look away from Justinius for even a moment. Fortunately his wings bump gently into the wall and warn him before he injured himself.

As the Emperor approaches the door, Madame Rajan bows deeply in a fashion that would rival the greatest court ladies of the Empyreans. Her husky, rich voice intones quietly, "My apologies, your majesty, for not serving you myself ... I am honored you would enter my Hall." Her golden eyes look up at him as she then straightens.

Stooped, slump-shouldered, and weary, the Emperor nevertheless retains some of that indefinable quality that once made him great. It is there in his eyes--that vigor and keen wit unravaged by time. As Rani addresses him, he favors her with a slight smile. "No apologies needed, domina. A fine establishment, and fine refreshment. Perhaps, I will visit again, Aidoneus allowing."

Rani nods deeply, "May your flame never falter, you majesty." Said in a formal, near religious tone, Rani then takes a few steps back to allow the Emperor and guards to leave.

And so the Emperor of the Empyreans takes his leave, followed by his guards, and steps out onto the streets of Haven.

FIN  

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