4503/The Devil's In the Details

The Devil's In the Details
Date of Scene:	02 September 2016
Location:	Dun Realtai
Synopsis:	Bedivere returns a potential clue for finding Yunomi's whereabouts to Rhapsody.
Cast of Characters:	482, 325
Tinyplot:	32

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Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  Dun Realtai is a peaceful land not unlike the countryside of ancient Britain. Rolling hills, green fields, farmland, and forest intermingle, and the odd stream break up the monotony of green. Though largely flat, there is a dramatic, fang-shaped mountain in the middle of the valley, jutting from the earth. It's on this mountain that the village of Dun Realtai is situated, climbing the base of its western slope; at the top, the citadel itself is visible from miles away.

  Those green fields extend out for miles, too, eventually running into the distant mountains that ring its valley. Beyond those is the savage cold of the multiverse's tundras -- a pleasant little oasis in an otherwise inhospitable, wintry wasteland.

  It's well known as neutral ground, too, unaffiliated in the conflicts of the multiverse, and welcoming of visitors so long as they know how to behave themselves.

  Up at the flattish top of the hill, the castle boasts two courtyards. The outer one is a great wide yard that's largely open, meant for practise and other outdoor activities that need a lot of space. The inner one is a smaller gathering place right outside the citadel, which stands five storeys high. It houses an oak tree that towers even over the citadel -- the tree reeks of magic, largely dormant.

  It's in the courtyard on a shockingly dry day that finds Sir Bedivere, knight in shining armour, doing something absolutely mundane: He's sweeping the courtyard of fallen leaves from the guardian oak.

  Sure, he has servants that could do this for him, but there's something relaxing about the scrape of the broom and the clatter of leaves. Even the briskness of the autumn air, promising a savage winter, is bracing and invigourating, at least to him.

  Coordinates had been transferred to Rhapsody, and she had been cautioned that it may be a Very Cold Place. The warpgate is thankfully inside Dun Realtai's bubble of non-tundra weather, a little ways down the valley from the village, so Rhapsody will have to climb the hill all the way to the top to reach the citadel. It's a nice walk on cobblestone-paved roads, and the monotony of a sharp incline is broken up by terraced areas of flat ground, where rings and rows of buildings stand.

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    For the last night, the Guildmaster hardly slept. If she hadn't been born a dragon, it may have been a problem. For a creature that can sleep for days, if not weeks, at a time? No issue. She hadn't actually slept more than 24 hours in the last 2 weeks. ... After last night and today? She may end up needing a few of those elusive zees that everyone talks about.

    Climbing to Dun Realtai gave the dragon some much needed solitiude to be with her thoughts. To consider the notes that had been found. To conisder the message that Ainsley had translated for the guildmaster. She felt that she knew exactly why the Mana Nexus was built, now, but until that particular notebook was cracked, she was not going to report.

    As the last of the steps pass under the dragon's feet, she takes in the view of the structure. Something about it felt calming to her. Possible that it was so far removed from the massive city-scape that Rhapsody ws familiar with, that the quiet of a countryside was not something not often experienced. The chill of the countryside is shielded against by a thicker trenchcoat than what Rhapsody usually wears. Even under the jacket was heavy shirt and pants to match. She was a red dragon, despite the lack of color to match.

    Her steps, eventually, bring her to the sound of a broom against the ground. The sound is followed to the welcoming sight of Sir Bedivere. Her approach is slow, waiting to see if the knight notices her first.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  While most of the villagers are accustomed to multiversal visitors, not very many of them are accustomed to dragons. They fall silent from their chatter or tasks as Rhapsody passes -- whispering and staring, but rather than fear or suspicion, they seem to regard the dragon with awe. Not one of them moves to bother her during her ascent.

  There must have been dragons in the history of these lands, before it fell into Sir Bedivere's hands.

  The rhythmic scrape of the broom continues, unperturbed, as the dragon makes her way up the final incline.

  Although the shadow of the citadel is impressive, it is utterly dwarfed by that tree, and the tree itself is almost as much around as it is tall. There is definitely magic in it, but the nature of that magic is hard to say. No tree grows that large under its own power. Its roots dig deep into the stone of the mountain, and there are gnarled roots aboveground large enough to use as benches.

  It seems peaceful. Dun Realtai has had a history of destruction in the years before Elites found it, but now that it is guarded and managed, it's a place of peace, and healing. Whatever its past trials, that oak had seen them all -- it was the only living thing left besides the villagers when this place was rescued by Elites.

  Yet the broom never stops sweeping. Is he deaf? Half-blind?

  Nope.

  "Word reached me of your arrival from the moment you entered the gates." The knight looks up, with a crooked half-smile. "Forgive me for not meeting you at the gate, but from what I was told, it sounded as though the climb would do you well. And, while I trust the people of this village, I do not think we should speak in an area too inclined toward unfriendly ears."

  He sets the broom aside to lean against one gargantuan root, giving the tree a gentle ghost of a smile and a fond pat. "I suppose this is somewhat futile, in any case. The oak has not lost even half its leaves yet..." The expression flickers away as quick as it had come; his usual stony expression asserts itself, and he beckons for Rhapsody. "Walk with me. I did not bring it with me outside; it has been under guard."

  Not that he doesn't trust anyone, but he doesn't trust anyone.

  Bedivere's stride is brisk as he makes his way toward the castle, cloak rustling behind him. The door to the citadel is fairly huge, meant to admit many men at once (or maybe a dragon), and he holds it open for Rhapsody.

  "Be welcome in my hall as a guest, in this place, for as long as you choose to visit." No sooner are the ritual words spoken than Rhapsody is allowed past the threshold. "Would that it were under better circumstances."

  The door shuts with an ominous 'boom.'

  Bedivere turns to face her, gesturing toward an arm to indicate the hall and its benches. "Please, sit, if you prefer. Or do not. I would take this opportunity to speak with you, as well, while there are no prying ears to ear what I have to say. I have dismissed my servants, that I might be absolutely certain of that fact."

  "That being said, the duty of host falls to me. May I offer you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water? Wine, perhaps? Something to eat?"

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    The tree does garner Rhapsody's attention for a long moment. Despite the cold, the massive oak had so many leaves, and yet Bedivere was here, sweeping. It didn't take a genius to determine that he had been waiting for her. She could appreciate the walk up, on her own, and is happy to hear it was Bedivere's intention. "Thank you for that, Sir Bedivere. What you have here is incredible. Between the mighty tree here and the castle you have, I imagine everyone around feels quite safe and fully secure," she compliments, closing distance. As he turns for the entrance, the dragon gives the oak another glance before falling into step with the knight.

    The structure is far more impressive up close. The size of the door reminds her of the one in Nivix, if only due to its size. She considers a transformation, attempting to continue to defeat her anixety of scalelessness, however the cold of the land reminds her that it may not be in her best intention.

    Once within the castle, the sight of the interior calms her, pulling her mind further and further from Ravnica. If not for current events, she would probably feel quite comfortable. "Thank you, something to drink would be delightful. Tea is always welcome in Nivix and Thirix, I would be delighted to try some of Dun Realtai's own," she suggests before taking a seat. "I do wish my first visit here could have been under better circumstances, but... it cannot truly be helped, can it?" she asks. "I'll have to see the greenhouse before I leave.." she notes somewhat sadly for reasons that are likely obvious.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "Once upon a time, this place had curtain walls, as well, but most of these have crumbled. We have not yet the resources to repair them all at once, so they are filled in when the townsfolk have the opportunity." Bedivere shrugs a little, armour clanking softly. "As to the tree, I have yet to determine what sort of magic it possesses, but I am reasonably certain it possesses some manner of magic. Never in my years have I seen a tree so large or so healthy."

  He rubs his jaw, gaze flicking back to the door for a moment, his other hand resting on one of the room-length tables. "In fact, I wonder sometimes if it is not tied to the land, and its relative health now is indicative of the land's health. I am to understand it was ailing terribly before we arrived here..."

  Once inside, it's much easier to see that the stone of the great hall is quite patchwork in its nature. Darker, older stone is freely interspersed with brighter, newer stone; it's easy to see which is which by how smooth the castle's building blocks are. That must be from the rebuilding, and it's sensible enough; why cut new stone when old stone will serve?

  The great hall is slightly different than a castle of its age, though. Rather than lit by torches, dim and flickering, it's very open and spacious, bright and lit instead by very tall, narrow windows that fit between the walls' supports. The glass is leaded and thick, so the view outside isn't very clear, but it's clear enough to let the light in. It makes the great hall seem much more spacious than it is, and it's already pretty spacious. There are torches set into wall sconces and column supports, and comfortable, somewhat-modern-looking chairs before the hearth.

  "I fear our tea is imported," Bedivere reports, shaking his head. "The climate is unsuitable for such a thing, I am told. We did not have tea in Britain, at least not as that which we have taken a liking to." Who he's talking about in 'we' is not very clear. "Yet we do make a point of importing certain amounts for guests, and for our own use."

  He doesn't really seem the sort to use the royal 'we,' either. Very much the opposite, in fact.

  "No. It cannot." His tone is one of sympathy as he shakes his head to Rhapsody's statement of things being what they are. He manages a flicker of a half-smile, reserved but gentle. "However, we can do our best to ensure that better circumstaces will return our way once again. I will take you to the greenhouse; although I have been caring for it as best I can, she has a talent for such things far beyond my own."

  "Please excuse me; I will prepare tea, and fetch the likeness you have requested."

  With a swirl of snow-white cloak, the knight vanishes into the kitchens, which also look pretty spacious. He returns, setting down a tray of plain black tea, as well as sugar and cream, and a platter of various scones.

  He vanishes into the stairwell at he far end of the room, and it's not until ten minutes later that he returns, carefully holding some kind of paper rolled-up and tied carefully with a green ribbon.

  The ribbon he unties, deft in spite of plate gauntlets, and rolls the likeness out carefully. He reaches into one of his belt pouches, pulling out various objects to pin the corners down -- a piece of flint, a slender knife, and a small stone for each corner.

  Bedivere himself settles on the other side of the table, seating himself on the matching long bench to pour himself a cup of tea. He manages the task frighteningly well, considering he's wearing metal and leather gauntlets.

  "I have ensured that no one has even seen the image," he adds, gesturing to the poster. "Few if any should know that it has been in my possession. I have kept it secret; I have kept it safe."

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    "That is fine, then. A poor assumption, then. Perhaps when things have returned to 'normal' one of us can suggest to her to grow some in the greenhouse she created. I'm sure it is a wonderful thing," she muses before Bedivere is off to take care of the tea, and other things.

    When he first returns with the tea, the dragon helps herself to it, pouring out some to her cup and adding an amount of sugar that seems appropriate to her actual age. (A lot). While waiting, she actually moves about the large room, taking in the hearth, the windows, and noting the old and new stone in the walls. "Maybe I should see if the Izzet can help a little," she notes, more to herself, but it is as the knight is returning with 'her father' that she states this. She turns, moving close as he reveals the image once again, and her expression takes on the same look from the night before. A look that wishes so much, that he was still here. An expression that wishes that the Red Star would light the Ravnican sky again. One that wishes it could shine the same way upon Dun Realtai and see all the good work that has been done here.

        Can so much be seen in an expression?

    "Thank you," she finally says, idly glancing all the numbers again. After a moment she reaches into her coat, taps a little at her comm-crystal, then speaks. "Ryxinel, the image and the numbers I told you about. It is a lot longer than the other one. Good luck with it." Her brother responds with a thank you before the crystal is tucked away again.

    "I'm sure this meant as much to her as it does to me. She truly loved him, I could see it in everything she did. I should have known what the Mana Nexus was being built for, Sir Bedivere. Maybe deep down, I already did, but some part of me just thought she was serving the Izzet League, nothing more. In the end it turned out Yunomi and Ryxinel were working toward the same goal with different ideas.." she shares. It would be in her report later... but for now, with someone so close to Yunomi, how could she not share?

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "That is a welcome suggestion." Bedivere half-smiles at the idea of growing tea in the greenhouse. Maybe it would even give Yunomi a reason to expand the structure. From aught I have heard, it is not difficult to grow; it merely requires a climate that is not too cold. And that is... not Dun Realtai."

  Wait'll winter hits, and storms dump fourteen feet of snow overnight like it ain't no thang.

  Bedivere stirs cream and sugar into his own cup, not a hideous amount, but enough to suggest he's gotten used to how common such resources are. That so many worlds have clean, drinkable water still mystifies him; in his era, one didn't drink water unless one had a death wish.

  "Mayhap. We've managed without curtain walls for so long, so I see no harm in taking time with their rebuilding. They are not as important as restoring livelihood," Bedivere explains, gesturing with both hands, "or harvesting winter's provisions from the autumn crops. Those take first priority. I must ensure the people have sustenance before I will even consider asking such things of them."

  His expression clouds, and he frowns for a moment. "Of course, I am convinced such walls are not an accident. One does not go through the astounding effort of building such monumental architecture without due reason. They were afraid, or actively defending themselves, from /something/." Bedivere sighs. "I suppose in time I will find out, or I will not. My hope is the latter."

  Carefully, the pale-haired knight smooths down a corner of the poster, resettling the stone he had pinned its corner with.

  "I have done my duty to an ally, and no more. It is unworthy of thanks." Bedivere inclines his head. Anyone else might be saying that sort of thing in sarcasm, but the knight is completely earnest in his lack of pride in his accomplishments. "I am only grateful I was given opportunity to retrieve it before it was burned."

  The fire, however, was very definitely not his idea.

  His eyes follow Rhapsody's hands as she pulls her comm-crystal from her coat, studying the thing with some interest. He's not even going to puzzle out how something like that works, but the craftsmanship of the little object is nice.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "Aye," he answers, softly. "I am certain it did. It was in a place of prominence. I cannot imagine it did not have sentimental value to her."

  "I fear I do not know the details of your Ravnican Guilds. I know only that she was apart of the Izzet League, but I do not know if there were any outstanding political... problems... beyond what I had been told by her." Bedivere rubs his jaws, thoughtful. "I must apologise for my laxness in the matter. Winter in Dun Realtai is not for the faint of heart, and much of my energy has gone into preparations."

  He studies the dragon for a moment, thoughtful. "If there were problems beneath the surface, I was not informed. I do not often pay attention to the Union frequency; I find it distracts me from my work, so if there was aught she spoke of there, it is possible that I had missed it." He shakes his head. "Still, that is no excuse for a lack of vigilance. I am sorry."

  Bedivere pauses to take a sip of his tea. How he can handle a delicate teacup with plate gauntlets on is anyone's guess. Maybe it's some kind of secret dexterity training exercise. When he does speak again, he puts down his teacup. His gaze settles on Rhapsody, solemn and serious, and maybe just a little melancholy.

  "I will understand if you do not trust me, but know that I am on her side. While I am not certain of Ravnican politics, I have met her. My honour and my life once relied on my ability to judge character, and I do not think it is in her character to do something so wide-sweeping without incredibly sound reasoning." Bedivere thins his lips, unhappy. "While I am disappointed that she has not felt secure enough to speak with me as to her plans, I am not her minder, and I can hardly hold it against her. Still, however meagre my efforts, I would continue to search for a means to speak with her. I would hear her reasonings, and offer her counsel if I could."

  He's a knight, after all. A knight is nothing if not loyal, and Bedivere takes that well past its logical extremes. He is fiercely loyal to those he considers allies or friends, past all point of reason, to the point where he would lay down his life for theirs. With that aspect of his character in mind, there's little wonder why he has been so supportive.

  And calm. He has approached the entire disaster with an air of objectivity and serenity that's almost creepy, considering how emotional so many other people close to the tanuki have gotten.

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    After taking in the grand image for a moment more, Rhapsody moves back to her seat, speaking as she goes. "You don't have to worry about Ravnica and its politics, Sir Bedivere. That is my problem to deal with. It is just.. very difficult. I know in my -soul- that she hasn't betrayed me and yet everything I provide to show an alternative fell on deaf ears at the council. It has been more difficult than I expected, however," she transitions, sitting, and then taking a sip of the tea before moving on. Seems the drink is pleasant enough for her to not show any dislike.

    "Your loyalty is welcomed and very much appreciated. She has spoken highly of this place and I believe she is quite proud of the work she has done here. Others have their theories of 'posession' and 'taking over' the Izzet League.. but.. after what I have found this far, well... I truly believe I understand what may be going on. Your loyalty is not misplaced, I assure you" Another sip, and then she begins to rummage in her coat for something. Once she has it, she sets it on the table before slidding it toward the knight.

    "Last night, Ainsley was kind enough to, very quickly, translate one of Yunomi's coded entries. The speed in which she did this was amazing, to say the very least. I am not sure how much you will understand, but as one of the few -very- loyal friends to her, you deserve to see this as well."

The coded page read, strangely:

WE RANK ALPERS

Draw lup ova handshakes VIII. Rend a clearance beatification? One pent nut ape theatrically log -- I clout bacon, I pop disembowels an wrath informant, whim? I don't think so. Statewide film hi ash fourteen lap hewn. Woof raid undertaken nod. Moon gig certifications testy shy innumerability off. Ma, packaged forewarnings, but icy I doth swished hem imperatively itch telephony reconfiguration tab or hook film. The Blinding Eternities will destroy me if I can't access them.

In the margins, Ainsley's translation was scrawled:

PLANESWALKERS

Individuals who have a spark. Can an artificial one be created? All that energy put into one place -- would compaction be possible with raw mana in this form? I don't think so.This is what failed me when the paroun left. Need to find a workaround. I'm not going to sacrifice anyone but myself if I try this. If I can get my guardian powers back, the shields may provide me with enough protection that I can briefly look for him. The Blinding Eternities will destroy me if I can't access them.

    After a moment, or when Sir Bedivere has finished reading everything, she speaks again. "I know what she was planning... and once the other notebooks are translated, I will report this to everyone. She wasn't trying to kill me, Sir Bedivere. She was trying to either restore her powers... or become what my fater was. A planeswalker."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "Politics are rather like that." Bedivere offers a sympathetic smile, but the expression is more melancholy than amused. "One's actions and words are twisted unto the breaking point. I am intimately aware of how difficult it is. I spent fifteen years of my life plying those treacherous waters, and my repayment was a different assassin at my door every week. Unfortunately for them, I rarely slept in the same place twice."

  He cradles his own tea cup in steel gauntlets, the reflection of his face distorted. "Mm. Mayhap. She does not seem to think highly of her own efforts, but I offer what encouragement I can. Even so, for her to behave so irrationally does not sit well with me. Something else is at play here, some kind of mitigating factor or extenuating circumstances... I merely do not know what."

  "Aye, such would be no more than my duty as an ally of the Union to help one of its own in need, Lady Rhapsody. It is not unlike a much more vast Round Table, in its way. Still, I feel I owe her a great debt for what she has done for this land. When I took possession of this land, it was barren. Not even sedge-grass would grow in it. And now... you see what she has wrought." Bedivere smiles, sadly. "But it is not simply out of debt that I show her loyalty. I am concerned for her."

  He cocks an eye toward the thing set on the table, refocusing once he realises that he's looking at a page. "I know some letters of English, but please give me a moment. I have only begun to learn it since I joined the Union, two years ago."

  Irish and Welsh are his first languages, as well as the Latin of the church. Sadly, his understanding of English is much poorer than the fluency of his other three languages. Brow furrowing, he narrows his eyes and leans closer, muddling his way through unfamiliar terms. The knight glances up as Rhapsody offers something of an explanation.

  "I fear I am not aware of the full understanding of what a Planeswalker is." Bedivere shakes his head. "May I ask you to elabourate? I understand that she was quite upset regarding the loss of her guardian powers; I remember many attempts to console her over that subject." He frowns, slowly. "Yet if it is what I believe it is, by name alone... that is a great deal of power. One does not cross into different realms of existence trivially; one would need great power and skill to freely enter Tír na nÓg, Annwn, or Magh Meall; or Elysium of the Greeks." He drums his fingers on the table, restless, the movement accompanied by a tiny rattling of steel plates. A nervous look is cast to Rhapsody. "And are you, too, a Planeswalker? Or is such a thing not passed down hereditarily...?"

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    "I am not a planeswalker, but my father, Niv-Mizzet was," Rhapsody begins once Bedivere has asked his question. "A planeswalker is a very powerful being within Ravnica, and from what my father understood, the worlds in which Ravnica came from. They are beings that can call upon mana from a place called the Blind Eternities, rather than calling it up via memories one has of lands they have visited. The Blind Eternities are a place of pure and raw magical energy in which planes of existence, such as Ravnica, are born. Planeswalkers transverse through this place to access other planes. It is locked away from anyone else. What I believe is happening, is that Yunomi built the Mana Nexus for two reasons. To attempt to restore her powers, either by becoming a planeswalker herself by creating a 'Spark', or by restoring her Guardianship powers."

    The dragon settles back against her chair, another sip taken, even a scone gnawed on, before moving on, allowing time for Bedivere to try and understand what she is sasying. "A Spark is something a being can be born with. It is -extremely- rare, but this 'Spark' must ignite for a planeswalker to be born. Typically this happens during a moment of extreme duress. For my father, it was when the last of his children, me, was nearly killed. To create one artificially ... he never researched, and I, nor Yunomi it appears, know if it can be done. Even in theory, it would take a massive amount of mana to do so which is why I believe she built the Nexus. It was never meant to be used for a coup. That's the hole in the story, now. What caused her to use it so suddenly, for such a different reason. Why was the spirit in the Namamura Shrine already dead when she attempted the transfer? What did she see in the crowd on presentation day? What is she protecting me and the Izzet from? That's where we stand.. now. She is no traitor, I am -sure- of it."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  Taking the account in silence, the knight studies the grain and the scarring of the wooden tabletop. They're like pieces to a puzzle he has only half the context of, yet his training as a filidh has helped fill in some of the blank spots.

  The knight gives a quiet, thoughtful sound. Ashen-blonde hair spills over the table as he rests his chin in a cupped hand, considering. "So she sought to bridge the gap in any way she could. I see. That is sensible." The motives are, that is; not the actual action. He wouldn't presume to judge how foolish or logical the action is without fully understanding the context. Still, as he's told her, he believes she must have had good reason to do what she did.

  "Yes, that is sensible. Yet to suddenly attack you, and to publicly sever her support of and loyalty to the Ravnican Guilds... that is not sensible. I do not think that she was being directly controlled, per se, but I believe that there must have been mitigating factors. If she was being controlled, it was indirectly, by inference. As you suggest, I believe she is protecting you and the Izzet League from something, and she is willing to destroy her own reputation and standing to do so."

  The knight narrows his eyes, brow furrowing. "What would motivate her to such extremes, I wonder? What did she see, indeed...?"

  "Regardless, publicly, I will not involve myself in Ravnican politics, lest I unwittingly endanger the people of Dun Realtai. Tempers are flaring quite high over this, I am to understand, and people, particularly politicians, sometimes do foolish things in the throes of their passions." Bedivere clicks his tongue. "Privately, however, I am willing to offer her safe harbour, because I imagine there are very few right now who are willing to. The only challenge would be in ensuring she would not be seen by those Elites who live and visit here."

  He picks his head up again, rubbing thoughtfully at his jawline, before cupping his chin and frowning. "If she is a traitor, than my instincts are much more atrophied than I had feared. I will be very surprised if that is the case, Lady Rhapsody. I can see her rebelling against something she has hatred and revulsion of. However, I simply cannot bring myself to see it in her to turn, unprovoked, on her own allies and friends. Not so suddenly as she has."

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    "After reading what I have read, seen what I have seen, and knowing what I know, she did not betray me, Sir Bedivere. Some may have said I was in denial before, but now we have -hard evidence- that this is true. Should we bring her back to us, and Ravnica will not have her, nor the Union, then I promise you, she will be brought here. I will not see my... closest friend brought low when all she was attempting to do seek a way to bring back a loved mentor, and protect a dear friend." The tea cup is emptied, at this point. For some reason, the sight of the empty teacup causes a small smile, perhaps remembering what Yunomi's name means. "Whatever happens next, both she and I will need all the support we can get.."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "I do not think that she betrayed you, either," Bedivere replies, gently. "I do think that she must have felt overwhelmingly motivated to do what has been done. While it is unfortunate that she did not feel she could trust in those closest to her, perhaps we may yet shoulder some of whatever burden weighs her shoulders."

  His eyes fall onto the image of Niv-Mizzet and hood, slightly, studying the likeness through a veil of ash-blonde lashes. It's almost a sleepy sort of regard, but there's nothing sleepy about the way he's regarding that picture. For such a tall and imposing man, he has a very mild presence about him -- and it hides the intensity of his focus.

  That dragon represents a critical piece of this puzzle, but beyond knowing of his relationship to Yunomi, Bedivere knows virtually nothing of the Planeswalker. Yunomi had not spoken much of Niv-Mizzet to him. Pity, that; while his efforts were hardly as worthy as the others', perhaps he could have approached the whole situation with a much clearer and calmer mind.

  Calm in the face of adversity and disaster had always been one of his greatest strengths.

  "She will be welcome here." He dips his head, rising to make his way to the other side of the room, fiddling with the logs in the hearth. An extra long poker does the trick, sending up a swirl of embers. He sets the tool aside, returning to stand somewhere behind Rhapsody.

  The dragon might feel a weight on her shoulder; a hand, but heavier, accounting for the gauntlet it wears. Bedivere affords her a friendly pat.

  That's twice in two days he's done that, and he's usually abhorrent of any kind of physical closeness or contact with others... but Rhapsody seems like she could use the comfort. He would do no less for Yunomi.

  "You will have my support no matter the circumstance. You will have my sword, even, if it should come to that." His violet eyes are solemn as he looks down to her. "Both of you will also be made welcome here. If you should need distance from your City of Ravnica for a time, you may come here; quarters will be prepared in the citadel for your use. I fear it is not the same level of technology that you may be accustomed to... but perhaps that may be a boon, at times."

  The knight manages a faint, crooked half-smile, letting go of her shoulder and moving to pour Rhapsody another cup of tea, refilling his own cup and settling back down into his seat, cradling the teacup in his hands. "I am certain my king will be eager to offer her assistance, as well, when we are no longer needed to oversee our winter preparations."

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    As the knight's gaze falls upon Niv's image, Rhapsody's own turns back to her father. "In a way," she begins, sighing lightly at the realization, "She is doing something very similar to Niv-Mizzet. He kept the secret of his departure through the rift from her to the very end. From what I know, he simply did not have the heart to tell her. And now, history repeats. Yunomi is keeping a secret, possibly, to the very end. I only hope we still have her close by when the secrets are revealed, rather than learning the truth behind it all in the end." After all, those who do not learn from history...

    "Thank you for the room, Sir Bedivere. The .. workload that came with being a guildmaster is a very heavy weight to bare. Despite how worried my siblings become when I do, there are times I simply must put distance between myself and Ravnica, or I'd simply go mad under the strain. I'm glad to know I have a place of respite," she smirks. "Though I imagine Sidonia will learn of it soon enough. She's cunning, but she also lets me have my moments, but she also makes sure they do not last -too- long.."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "Hm." The sound Bedivere makes is thoughtful as he regards the likeness of Niv-Mizzet, lovingly detailed. He is self-aware enough to recognise that he would do the same thing in her situation, and so he doesn't argue with the methodology. "It is unfortunate, but I cannot say that I would act differently in her situation. Not until we understand what is being used to goad and guide her behaviour."

  He tilts his head in the barest approximation of a shrug. "Aye. We can only pray that we be close at hand to support her, when the time comes. Such would involve her own trust, though. If she does not wish to be found, I do not think she will be found. Thus far she has been uniquely skilled in evading her pursuers."

  Cradling the teacup, he takes a sip from it, blanching a little and stirring in some extra cream. That's better. "In any case, I understand the need to distance oneself. It is a luxury we of the Round Table never been able to afford... I am glad only to offer it. Come whenever you feel the need." One of those crooked little half-smiles flits across his face again. "Dun Realtai is open to all, provided guests can behave themselves."

  Thus far, he hasn't needed to muster allies. People have been remarkably obedient about regarding it as neutral ground.

  "Your siblings, too, would be welcome here." Bedivere inclines his head again. "Though, I fear it is not often that these people have seen dragons. I am to understand that there is a history of such creatures, but I am not certain of the details. Alas, there are few alive here who have more than a piecemeal account of the lore..."

  "But it does not seem dissimilar to the views of my king and I. Dragons are sacred creatures, the mightiest of phantasmal beasts; protectors, when they wish to be, and that is what they were in Britain, the place we hail from." Bedivere's expression softens a little. "Of course there are evil dragons, as well, but it seems the people see the former, in you. So too do I."

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    "Thank you, again, for everything, Sir Bedivere. All of this will be kept in mind as events continue as they do. We will find her, one way or another. If it is us first, or Ijiwaru first, so be it. Rest assured, however, should he claim some kind of 'accident'.." she trails, glaring at nothingness but seemingly downward at the table. She doesn't have to finish the sentence. "I should get back to it.." she says, finally, starting to rise. "I hope the information I provided you was of some comfort regarding Yunomi. I will report once Ryxinel has everything decoded." Finally, for the first time in a while, the dragon smiles lightly back at the knight. "She is better off for having such allies outside the Izzet."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  The knight bows his head in response to her thanks, hair momentarily shadowing his eyes. "My efforts are but a candle before the bonfire. I am glad only to offer her what solace she may seek and shelter others will not. I do not believe she has abandoned any of us." He rubs at his jaw, speculatively, eyes narrowing. "It may be that she must needs think that, for a time, but we will solve this mystery in due time."

  "I only wish there is more that I could offer. I fear I do not know enough to comfortably risk treating with Ijiwaru, or perhaps I might ask pointed questions of my own to him. I am confident that if I understood the subtleties, that I would be capable of drawing some kind of clue from him or his men, but... I do not." Bedivere sighs, shaking his head and spreading his hands in a clear 'what can you do' gesture. "And I would not risk danger to you or her by confronting them in ignorance."

  Standing, he folds his hands behind his back, pacing slowly. "Do so. Inform your siblings they are welcome here, if they wish for a safe place to speak of these matters, where they will not be subject to unfriendly ears. In fact, if you have need of a place to work on these things, I will give to you one of the unused storage rooms. It is a bit larger than guest quarters, and may afford you the space to collaborate with others, if it becomes necessary."

  "In the meantime, I will watch over the greenhouse that she has put so much effort into." He gives a small smile, a little melancholy. "Mayhap something will bloom, for her to come back to, hm?"

  That smile fades. "In the meantime, I shall pray for your success, and for her safety." He tucks an arm to his stomach and bows, formally. "God keep you. If there is aught else I can do, you need only ask."

Rhapsody (325) has posed:
    "Thank you again. When next I return, I hope it is with her, and to see that Greenhouse she has spoken so much about," Rhapsody says, deciding the visit can wait. It would only bringmore sorrow to them. Better the first memory of the place be positive. "Do take care, Sir Bedivere. I will see you again." That being said, she would start to slip out. The image of her father is not forgotten, instead, she moves to the table, rolls it as it was brought out, then offers a bow in passing to Bedivere before leaving. She would return here again. In what manner, she did not yet know.