Chances cradles his guitar in his lap, but doesn't play it. He frowns as Dorian walks off. He might take comfort in the man being predictable, if he had shown any sign of predictability. Unless one could call unhappiness predictable. He shrugs and looks for his drink again.

Morgan accepted the reproof equably.  "The crack analogy isn't as good as I thought then. Cracks, unrepaired, tend to widen on their own. Cuts, maybe? " He shrugged, dismissing that aspect for the moment. "So, are they coming after a piece of this broken god or invading, do you know yet? "  He looked curious at "Dorian the Grumpy" leaving, but refrained from asking.

"You mean here, Morgan?  We don't know."  James answers quickly.  In part at least, he can guess the cause of Dorian's mood and he shares some sympathy with it.  James valued honest communication but trust had its risks.

"Enough about us for the moment.  Tell us something about yourselves.  Not who sent you or why you are here.  Just...about you."  James' question is directed at all three of the new acquaintances (he has that nasty humanoid tendency of discounting the cats), but his eyes are focused chiefly on Banglen-Yp.  A Lord of Chaos and a Julianite could, upon making a few assumptions, fit easily enough within James measure of experience but the girl was a mystery.

Sighing, Aaron rose, scratched the back of his head and flicked his nose at everbody else. "Sorry, got to see a man about a horse."

And then he followed Dorian out.

Luke stared back at Banglen-Yp for a long moment.  Then he nodded his head in reply to her greeting.  "Why?  I am not overly impressed by 'humanity', in any of its myriad forms."  His lips twitched at Dorian's exit.  "It is as simple as that."

Aaron now followed Dorian, while James moved in with a question of some import.  Luke relaxed in his chair, content to allow someone else to do the discussing for the moment.  He was no diplomat, though in the past he had been.  Bitter time had gnawed away much of his urbanity and charisma, he knew.  Better to let the affable James take over the questions, and allow Aaron to discuss with Dorian...whatever they wished to discuss.

This group was the best hope he had seen in the Myriad Worlds.  It needed to stay alive.

"Hmmmm, about me?" Morgan scraped his chair around to face the others, and relaxed into it, no longre needing to crane his neck. "I'm partial to writing, wine, and women, though I'm 'terrible at the first, and the second makes any appeal to the third desert me', so when I indulge in any, it had best be in private."  The goblet beside him, apparantly, did not count.

"This has been made abundantly clear to me by my mother, my father, by my eldest brother, my eldest sister, and my other siblings, taken in pairs and trios, in descending order of wit, and correspondingly ascending order of neccessary pugilistic reinforcement to make the point."

His grin making a reappearance beside this, his favorite way of describing the issue, Morgan continued,

"I sing passably well, but only to soldiers' rounds, and by happy circumstance, the soldiers enjoys my company. Doubtless think me a great fool on occasion, but like me. Or are better actors than I've seen in the capitol, anyway. "

 

Banglen-Yp smiled at the man wanting her to tell something about her.  So she did as he asked.

•• I • am • Bang•len••Yp ••

Another smile and her attention went to the one who had talked so much about ants and things.  Her expression shifted to a slightly puzzled one.

•• No •• Why • stomp • on • ants ••

Now she smiled again.  She had done well.  Answered one question and presented another.

 

The servant, Sal, returns to the odd group at the corner tables.  She hands two keys to Roman, "We di'n't 'ave any rooms that connect up, but those two's next ter each other."

The rest of the keys, she puts on the other table, "There yers go.  Yer two mates took their own keys, an' went up there already.  All the rooms is on the same floor, an as close as I could get them.  Garvin wanted ter spread yers out more, in case yer was plannin' trouble, but I reckon as nobody'd bring along their pets if they was goin' ter start somethin'."

"Now, can I get anybody anythin' else, while I'm 'ere?"

 

Distracted by the arrival of the helpful woman, Banglen-Yp feels the need to ask her soemthing.

•• Where • is • bath ••

As nearly always, asked with a smile.

 

"The reasons for that are simple," Luke replied, not batting an eyelid at the misunderstanding.  "Because the ants have bitten the Seraphim.  And because the Seraphim enjoy stamping on ants.  I suppose it makes them feel strong."

"At the minute, it's out in the store 'ouse." Sal replies, smiling.

"But when yer thinks yer'll be ready fer it soon, jus' give ne a shout, I'll 'ave somebody take it up ter yer room, an' start fillin' it.  It shouldn't take long, we keeps water 'eatin' all the time."

 

•• Why • did • they • bite ••

Another inquiry, with another smile.  As she figured it, they probably bit for one reason or another.

•• Thank • you •• I • will • shout ••

She replied to the woman, giving her a smile too.  A different one, but still a true smile.

 

"The ants are a metaphor, girl."  Luke's voice was dry.  Apparantly his patience, never his strong point, had begun to wear thin.  "This group, of which I am a part, opposes the Archons.  We are the ants.  They are trying to step on us, because we have dared to oppose them."

 

Banglen-Yp laughed.  A short but, well, beautiful laughter, sprung from amusement, not spite or malice.


                                                                                <sub>Misunderstandings.

                                        Amusement.

                                                            Laughter.</sub>


•• Thanks • for • giv•ing • the • rea•son ••

She had gotten the answer she sought, and a laughter as well.

 

Roman considers how to answer James.  "I suppose I'm just one of the lesser Chaos Lords.  Chanicut is a Great House, but I'm pretty far from any significant inheritance.  At the last count."

"If your business is what Lexy was trying to tell people about, back in the Courts, joining your group might be the next best thing to finding her - and who knows ?  Maybe she'll turn up."

When the girl brings the keys, he passes one to Banglen-Yp.  "You can have the bath first, if you like.  When you're ready".

 

Turning her gaze onto Roman, Banglen-Yp smiled at him too.

          She was all smiles, it seemed.

•• Oh • kay • dar•lin ••

 

"Consider wisely."  Luke seemed to be in no way ready to leave his seat.  "As we have discovered, if one can put one's own concerns behind them, they do better with this particular group.  Secrets have a dangerous way of sneaking up in the middle of the night to bite their owner upon the rear."

His hand brushed over the flickering image before him, and it winked out.

"But trustworthy assistance is always welcome."

The conversation continues for a while, over dinner, and a strange tale unfolds.

A tale of a war, in which one side does not even realise there is a war, perceiving it, instead, as a strictly local phenomenon... an invasion of a specific land by powerful and deadly foes, with no inkling that such invasions, by the same foes, are also occurring elsewhere.

The enemt seldom conquers territory, and holds it even less frequently.  Instead, they invade, destroy, plunder and enslave.  And then they move on, leaving remnants of the original population behind, living on broken, dying worlds, and wondering if the invaders will return to finish the job.

All hope is not lost, however...

Somewhere, a young man called Johnee Kay is working, training an army of supernaturally competent warriors.  An army of several hundred thousand soldiers, born with the memories and tactical knowledge of their ancestors, and a fearsome array of weaponry and abilities...

Elsewhere a young woman, little more than a child, infiltrates the camp of one of the enemy's armies, seeking knowledge, and a way to gain an advantage... any advantage.

Then there is this group, who probably know more about the enemy than anybody in all the Myriad Worlds, and are determined to stop them, in spite of the overwhelming advantages of time, and power possessed by the enemy, these Archons...


In his room, where the large black wolf sprawls against the bottom of the door, the one called Dorian works on schemes of his own... seeking weapons and techniques which might serve well against the foe.

Roman finishes his meal, after wiping his lips with a napkin he comments.

"A powerful enemy, then.  But if certain other conflicts have any lessons for us, it should be that the strongest foe becomes vulnerable if they are divided against themselves."

"But, this Broken God concerns me. It neutralises much of the strength that could otherwise be brought against them.  My contacts in Chaos might be able to help there, if a...sample could be obtained.  I do not beleive that there is any power which could not find some way around - and a study might take little time as it is percieved here, once the sample is delivered.  It is not hard to find places in or near the Courts where time flows quickly."

Morgan listened intently, nodding here and there, as the story unfolded.  He had few comments, save for a "best not say more" about the young woman, and a question that recurred.  "Is anyone working on healing the worlds that are dying? Not placing new worlds in their place, I was wrong about that, but fixing what these Seraphim did to them? Aside from helping the ones left on those worlds, it has to slow down their operations if they have to guard as well as attack, particularly if they've few of these pieces. Demoralizing their men by seeing desolation day in and out would also help. "

He shrugged, indicating himself with a deprecating wave, "Not that I'd be any good at that, or know someone who would, but surely there are those more versed in medicine than in mellee, who might be better persuaded to help with that, if only as an challenge?"

"No healing yet, I fear."  Luke grimaced.  "I shall leave that for Serena...perhaps that is why she joined us, in the end.  For the life of me, I would not know where to start."

It was nto easy admitting that, but the truth was necessary.

<blue>"Well, as for a sample of Broken God, I fear you'll have to procure that yourself,"  Luke continued, now turning to Roman.  "We don't have any to spare."

Morgan accepted Luke's answer, and set the idea towards the back of his head, to gnaw away at ideas until/unless something useful came of it.  "Ahh well. I suppose we can ask if we see her. I guess I'm out of suggestions you've probably already thought of. "  Taking a long pull from his goblet, he looked at the others.

Roman nods at Lukes answer.  "Well, if you come by a spare piece, bear my suggestion in mind."

"And now, I think I'll inspect my room, sort a few things out.  Dobtless I'll see you all down here later."

Fingering the key, he stands, smiling at Banglen-Yp "Coming ?"

 

•• Oh • Kay •• But • I • must • shout • first ••

It was said with a smile and then Banglen-Yp looked around, lifting her hands and put them on each side of the mouth.

Then it came.

•• BATH ••

Indeed she did as asked and shouted, at the top of her lungs, without any warnign other than the hands lifting.

As if nothing odd had occured, she turned back to Roman, smiling again, the hands falling down to clasp in front innocently.

•• Com•ing ••

 

Roman reacts to the sudden shout with a barely noticable wince.

He briefly reflects on the matter Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between an over-literal mind and a born aristocrat before offering his arm to Banglen-Yp.