Dorian pauses during the silence to scan the room a moment. Satisfied that it must be some kind of religious observation- until Morgan clarifies- he dismisses it.

"The message was delivered be a member of the enemy's kind, but one that worked against them. The message was its dying breath after an epic battle. It would be best perhaps if you allowed me to share the scene from memory, if you'll allow a brief mental contact.

To anyone who is willing to receive the image, Dorian sends Metatron's dying words, one at a time since he can't open a bridge the way Berd can.

+ CloSe noW.  cLose.  bErd, liSTen to uS.  this is impoRtant.  there is oNe of us who has become a leaDer for the seraphiM.  harbonah it iS Called, and harbonah has a trAcker hunting for this grouP.  a human known to us only as the general.  this general is dangerous.  a human so competent that archons will serve it.  you must... find charyk.  there is a thing you can use.  before... broken god was broken... there was... hgreeeeee... the thing which sundered broken god... find charyk... hgreeeeeeeeeeegh... find the snswer.......... +

He then does his best to repeat the words for Banglen-Yp (unless she somehow accepts contact, too), though much of the feeling is lost in his mere words.

"Thus, you see, it was specifically said there is a thing we can use, a thing which sundered broken god. A weapon might seem logical, but it is not specifically named as a weapon. For all we know, it could be a person or Charyk itself, though I'm not inclined to think so myself."

He sighs. "The general he mentions, we later learned to be our friend that we thought dead, Cyan. She is not herself. I spoke with her at length and they've done something to her. Yet, I saw some of her original self come out in that meeting, and we believe she can be 'rescued' from that madness, as it were. As I said, she is a great asset in this battle."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:18, Fri 08 Dec 2006.

 

Busy with something of her own device, Banglen-Yp looked up with peaked interest at the sound of the horn.

She barely had time to wait for Dorian to explain to her, in words, what the message was, a message that she was not certain what it really said in the end.

Either she could not or would not allow mental contact.  It was anyones guess, as no one could contact her and find out.

However, something he said than sounded hautingly familiar.

•• Psi • Ann • is • still • Psi • Ann • ev•en • when • not ••

Said with a smile, naturally.

Then she bounced up from her seat and after Morgan.  She spoke to sullables to him, smiling of course.

•• Prac•tice ••

 

Roman shoves his mostly-empty plate aside.  "May as well" as he follows Banglen-Yp and Morgan he has one comment for Dorian and the rest.  "I'd look more to the nature of Charyk himself.  Nexus points where Shadows meet are unusual."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:41, Fri 08 Dec 2006.

Dorian turns his gaze back to the fire. "We did that when we arrived."

His gaze becomes distant, once again. Cyan was coming, it was enough. He would see her again. He might die, but he would see her again.

Berd's head comes up at the sound of the horn, and he stares toward the wall...apparantly at nothing.  His gaze falls upon the people as they pray, and his eyes kindle.  Then the little dragon rises, to give himself a shake.


Kicking off, he glides toward one of the shuttered windows; it silently opens at his approach, and the drake swoops through.  Quick beats of his gossamer wings take him toward the wall, and he catches an updraft to rocket high up and survey the path with mind and eye.

Outside, with the dozens of panthers, curled into a dangerous pile nearby, Morgan called a pair over.  "Hey, Rand, Catherine, could you give these two a ride to the walls?"

Turning to the pair who had followed him, he smiled. "There's some great views available. Just hold onto the saddle tightly. We move pretty fast."  He was proud of his friends, and didn't have qualms about showing it.

Roman approaches the huge predator, not entirely without trepidation.  At least nobody's likely to get in our way  He lets Morgan demonstrate how to mount the creature.

Obligingly, Morgan reached up, grasping one of the straps to pull himself high enough to slip a foot into the stirrup, then swung into place on Leareth.

When Roman moved, Rand stopped, and turned his head to watch Roman approach, whiskers twitching idly, while Catherine crouched down for Banglen-Yp.

Rand wasn't entirely without mercy. When he yawned, baring teeth designed to puncture skulls, he didn't lick his fangs and stare at Roman. He simply crunched the bone he'd been playing with, and looked inquisitively at the slim man.

Roman looks the panther in the eye.  "Don't judge by appearances.  I can be scarier and more dangerous than you"  I could probably take him, even in this form if I had Wormwood out.  But he's got a lot of friend

"If you don't mind, I'll stay here," Luke noted.  "Keep an eye out for approaching forces, as it were.  This isn't the first 'nexus' we've visited."

The three others left, on their way out to the walls, and he raised an eyebrow at Tahirah.  "Those three we just met today, as well.  So.  Questions for myself or any of the others?"  He looked after Berd.  "The Old Man isn't going merely to watch - he'll be giving assistance to whatever travellers are having trouble."  Luke shrugged.  "It's his way."
This message was last updated by the player at 18:50, Fri 08 Dec 2006.

There is a brief hesitation before delicate fingers extend towards Dorian, allowing the mental contact through touch rather than eye contact.

When it is done, Tahirah is quiet.  After a moment, she draws the small box out through a sleeve, sets it on the table, and slides the top off.  Then she takes out the cards, and they vanish briefly into her sleeves before she begins dropping sets of three onto the table.

Rand kept standing, tail swishing, as he waited for Roman to board.

Roman carefully gets into the saddle, using some minor shapeshifting to ensue a comfortable - and firm seating.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:16, Fri 08 Dec 2006.

Aaron slowly rose and left the building, keeping his thoughts and desires to himself. There was no ritual, no chant or prayer that prepared him for what was certain to occur in the near future.

"Let it be so."

"Indeed, dear heart. Let it be."

So he walked higher, and found himself upon the wall, looking out over a landscape he hadn't seen since Serena's vision. Aaron closed his eyes and breathed in the unfamiliar air, seeking peace, seeking solace and calm.

He sought calm, for the storm which was soon to come.

As the horn sounds, James can be heard to mutter "Battle Stations" under his breath.

"If I'm not wrong, that horn is a call to arms as much as the announcement of a caravan.  Let's hope its not the lead elements of the army already.

"Anyway, I think it's just as well that Jonnee's on the move with reinforcements."

James turns to Luke, "I've been thinking.  I think Ganelon may have been one of the identities used by Oberon during his absence from Amber.  It fits with Corwin, or somebody pretending to be Corwin, taking the sword."

James also takes the opportunity provided by Dorian to replay Metatron's last words.  "Thanks, Dorian, I had forgotten many of the details of that.  Something that he said, before there was Broken God, there was the thing that sundered Broken God.  What if the backlash from the staff broke its wielder when it broke itself?  Broken God could be the fragments of one of the twins.  The answer may be the staff rather than the sword.  On the other hand, if Broken God is one of the twins, where is the other?"

 

Having considered doing like Berd, Banglen-Yp knew she could not pass the chance to ride on one of these cats.  It was a new experience, simply.

•• Hel•lo • kind • Cat•her•ine ••

She waved to the big cat - and smiled, naturally, while watching how Morgan get up on the one having agreed to carry him.

Instinct took over again and a hand reached out to stroke the fur as she moved up alongside Catherine.

•• Bea•ut•i•ful ••

A big, happy smile.

•• Al•so • big•ger • in • real • life ••

Said with a firm nod - and a smile, shockingly enough - as she looked the cat in the eye, or nearly.  Something told her never to look a cat straight in the eye, it was a challenge.  So she looked between the two eyes instead.  Smiling.

 

"It's an interesting thought, James, but I think it is deeper than that. I remember the words of Metatron, when we first met him... We don't know how much of that story is fable and how much is real. Perhaps they were not weapons at all, but beings. The staff was broken, as was Broken God. The sword then, in that context, could be That Which Sundered-- except that would make Berd a remnant of that Sword, listen..."

Again, over the mental link...

This creature, which you have welcomed into your dwelling, Tamiel, despite its appearance, is a remnant of the thing which shattered the Broken God.

"He was speaking of Berd, of course. And this from the same creature that indicated we should come here to Charyk. There is a thing which sundered Broken God, and Berd himself is a remnant. I don't think the staff or staff-wielder is Broken God, for that reason. The sword was stolen only a hundred years ago by this Uncle of ours- it makes it less likely that Berd was a piece of that sword, then... not to say that weirder things have happened to us on our quest, though.... the possibilities are endless.

"For all we know, of this mystery, Broken God sundered itself, and Berd is the heart that Metatron spoke of- it's one of thousands of possibilities. We do know that Berd foght the Archons the last time they came here, and I always assumed he knew Broken God at one point, though he may not remember. Perhaps the question we should ask ourselves, is what could sunder Broken God? Was Broken God broken before this sundering, or is the broken part refering to something else? I've always assumed the sunder was the broken part, myself.

Yet, as you say, it may be the staff itself. Berd and I both searched the vicinity for the sword, too. I also searched for anything of unusual power or appearnce, and the staff is the only thing that appeared. The staff uses a kind of portal magic, very similar to the portals I employ. The simply open up a portal to a place of great energy- a trick I plan to learn very soon."

Morgan smiled, watching the beautiful girl make friends with Catherine. It was odd, here. Only the women seemed to enjoy the panthers' presence, and only a few of those. Seeing Roman already in place, he settled his seat a bit more firmly, eyeing the door to see if any others decided to come out while Banglen mounted.

Rand yawned again, shaking lightly, and walked over beside Leareth.

< Mine says he's dangerous. How'd he do? >
< He wasn't the crazy one, grew some armor and killed a few around the last wagon. >
< Fair enough. Catherine's still got the better deal though. >
< eh. >

The convrsation of snarls,coughs, and purrs concluded, they watched Catherine blink slowly at the girl, and bump her cheek against Banglen's shoulder in a furry welcome.

 

When the big cat bumped her, Banglen-Yp giggled and bumped back happily.

With a grin big enough to make the Cheshire cat vanish into thin air out of envy she moved to the side and did her best to emulate Morgan's moves when he had gotten up on the cat.

It went surprisingly well and there she sat, the strange girl on the huge cat.  She leant forward, nearly laying down, and spoke.

•• Thank • you • Cat•her•ine • for • let•ting • me • ride • you ••

She let a hand trail over the fur to smooth it out as she sat back up straight and held on as Morgan had suggested.

 

With that, the six were off, the cats sprinting incredbly swiftly through the streets and stairs of the city, toward their favorite vantage point. It seemed nothing to them to jump a level to avoid a pedestrian, and the only real thing slowing them was the wind of their own speed. The ride wasn't particularly jerky, save when they jumped, but the saddles proved their worth.

Laughing, Morgan waved at Roman and Banglen. "Nothing like it, is there?" He called back to them, his face split in a grin.

"Ever flown ?"  Roman, replies.

His mind is not really on this experience, instead thinking of what is to come.  It is a matter of finding the right mindset, the joy and the fury.  Today, there will be a killing storm over Charyk.

 

Too busy gasping and, from time to time, screaming girlishly Banglen-Yp failed to answer either Morgan or Roman.  However, she did appeared to enjoy the ride to a near disgraceful level; her eyes and mouth were wide in awe and excitement and her cheeks flushed red while her hair danced joyfully behind her head in the swift wind created as the powerful cat underneath her moved onwards.

This was a new experience, on more than one level for her, and she revelled without shame in it.  There would be time enough for concern and worries soon enough.

•• OoooOOoOOOoOooooOoooo ••

The longest syllable ever to pass her lips, so far.

 

Still laughing, Morgan shook his head in answer to Roman, hair whipping his face. "'less falling counts!" He was tempted to forget the caravan, this was fun, but he'd probably get thrown out of the city if they did this too much.

Berd hangs above the fortress, looking down.

Dorian leans forward and rests his head on his arms, on the table. "We struggle against mountains and oceans, the sun, moon and stars. I fear Cyan may have been more right than I this time. The struggle is in vain."

"This time."