"We make our own luck, Morgan," Luke said with a jagged grin.  He leaned back in his chair, to listen to the other table.  Foolishness indeed, Aaron.  'Knowing' the future never helps - sometimes it is that knowledge that pushes one face-first into what one would have avoided, ignorant.

Time is a fool's game, even for one that knows its ways.  He puts down his tankard of ale, and a wiff of it swirls around the table for an instant - flat, dead.  Spoiled with age.  Tahirah merely gives answers to what they ask.  They ought not do so.  A fly crawled from the mug, buzzed its wings, then flew away.  Luke waved his hand with some irritation.

Banglen-Yp's poetry bought a raised eyebrow from the lean man, and he shrugged.  "I count myself fortunate to not be human.  You show wisdom, Banglen-Yp.  I was happier today, and happiest in yesterday.  But yesterday is long gone, today was fleeting, and once one reaches tomorrow one can never go back."  He chuckled.  "I merely arrived there...early."  He eyed the kitten.  "Wisdom in your choices of companions, as well.  I have always like cats."

The mug's wood was faded.  Cracked.  Thick, tarry remains of ale began to leak from its base.

His eyebrows cocked at James' sodden appearance, and Luke raised a hand.  When James arrived, there came the offer of a mental bridging between himself and the others in the room.  "Beldrin is free, and sick," Luke said quietly.  "He receives quality care though, from our own concerned nurses, though the doctor's bedside manner leaves much to be desired.  Still in this World, even, and not so far away from the city.  I know nothing more.  Sit yourself there, James, closer to the fire.  What transpired?  I'm certain our fearless leader," and he rolled his eyes at Aaron "would wish to know."

At some point the mug had vanished, leaving only a small, circular stain on the tabletop.

Banglen-Yp's unaccustomed eloquence silences the prince. Unaccustomed to how he is used to think of her, at any rate. He chews the words over thoughtfully, merely nodding to Luke's  commentary.

 

Turning to look over at the lean man as he spoke to her, the strange blonde smiled gently and then laughed very softly and briefly.

•• One can be human without being human • and it is better than to be inhuman ••

A simple statement, with her shrug of her own to match that one of Luke.  Then she looked down at the little kitten and smiled gently once more.

•• I grow older •• I remember • at least a little •• But yes • he appears to be a cat ••

Several shorter statements, concluded by a rather cryptic one, in a sense.

 

The older woman waits, while Donovan tallies up what is owed, and then she tosses some coins on the counter, before turning back to her companion, "Continue with this foolishness, if you will.  I go to meet with the man who pays the wage this moon.  If you expect to see your share, you'll join me."

And she starts towards the door...

Leaning back in his chair, Chance let the conversation around the table fade into the background, a dull murmur. He cradled his drink and watched Tahira and the woman from the corner of his eye. Technically accurate, he thought, but fatally flawed. Kind of like Cats, the musical. He thought maybe he should go talk to the woman. News of ones death wasn't likely to be easy. Perhaps when they were finished. No good interrupting the fortune-telling in the middle.

Tahirah turns another card in silence, bent over the reading.  The one leaving does not ask; does not wish to know.  That choice is hers to make; but the trade that she sees is not Tahirah's.

Roman moves to intercept the woman who is leaving.  Quietly he speaks to her.  "You should wait a little.  Or are you in a hurry to die ?  Surely you understand that the danger to your companion is likely to touch your life, too."

The woman studies Roman with the expression of somebody who has just discovered half of a particularly unpleasant insect inside an apple they have bitten into, "The future will happen as it happens.  Knowing it does not change it.  If I am to die, then the knowledge of it will do nothing but make me unhappy for the rest of my life.  Move aside.  As yet, I have no quarrel with you, but I do have business to attend to."

 

Banglen-Yp moved off to the side a bit and whispered something to her little friend before she put him somewhere inside her coat.  After that she continued towards the exit with a small smile on her lips, moving as if with a purpose.

Unless stopped it is clear that she would step outside.

 

Tahirah says softly, to the one who has asked, "It is...very unlikely, that you will be paid.  Your respective survivals, or not, does not impact this."

Her friend doesn't wish to know, and that is, indeed, her choice.  But if the one who does wish to know wants to tell her...that, too, is part of her own freedom.

James takes the seat by the fire offered by Luke and accepts his mental bridging as well.

"There's really very little to say.  I went, said hello and made my report.  I think I covered most of the important stuff but I tried to avoid going into detail or giving too much away about the people...with us from time to time."

Benedict is here as well, posing as Corwin's guard.  He identified me to Corwin.  I volunteered to act as the bait to draw out the traitor, but Corwin preferred that we all keep our role as hunters.  I suspect the traitor knows too much about us already, so that won't be easy.  Also, it's a safe bet that one faction or another will have sent an agent to follow me from the castle.  Keep anything important over a bridging as much as possible.

Roman makes way, but continues to speak "If all is predestined, your knowledge and attendant misery are also inevitable.  Yet if it is not, you might still find a way to escape death.  Does that not interest you ?"

"Nobody escapes their fate.  That is why it is their fate." the woman snarls at Roman, "If they are fated to die, then they will die.  If a seer tells me that I will die, and then I don't die... then I have not evaded fate, I have proved that the seer was wrong.  Trying to dodge fate is not only futile, it is the sign of a coward."

"Stand aside, or it may happen that one of us will meet their fate this day!"

Donovan, looks up as he hears her words, "No fightin'!  Not in 'ere!"  He hurries around the counter, "Get out, blood-drinker!"

"That is my intent, innkeeper."

The younger woman, still sitting with Tahirah, nods, her expression grave, "I thought he could not be trusted.  The Rokt are often known to be less than honest with foreigners."  She sighs, "No doubt he intends to steal what he had us find for him, to avoid making the payment."

Aaron took a seat and leaned back, keeping an eye on Roman and the woman he was conversing with.

"Corwin and Benedict." Aaron repeated their names with a curious tone. "Did either of them toss out ideas on how we could ferret out this traitor? We'll need to take our next steps very carefully."

"Not really, Aaron.  Wait, hold on a second."

James' eyes become unfocused and he starts talking to thin air.  "Cyan?  Is this palanquet then?  Hi Trista.  I've just come back from the castle.  His high and mightiness reminded me that they are having issues with Trump, so we can't assume this contact is safe.  Let's keep it casual."

"And I," Luke replied to Banglen-Yp as she rose to leave, "will take inhuman and inhuman any day you should chose to mention.  And twice on Sundays."  That brought a short laugh, before he returned his attention to the others.

Hunters, is it?  I might almost be suspicious of Corwin, as we have been anything but efficient hunters until now.  The time for quick, bold action is almost gone.  Note well that swift, daring strokes are my last resort - after this, I fear, is only awaiting the inevitable.

We don't have time to piddle around as we have been so doing.  I would prefer your plan, James.  Bait.

The dark-eyed man stared at Tahirah and the woman as they poured over the fortune.  Roman's discussion with the other one was observed with bland interest - fate was something in which Luke believed not at all.  He glanced at Aaron when James began to speak, and commented over the Bridging.  Curious.  Both Benedict and Corwin have nothing to offer.  This, from a group famed for their machiavellian manipulations and politics.  Many possibilities present themselves.

The first, that all is as Corwin says.  I find this laughable.

The second, that Corwin and Benedict have plans of their own, and will use us for stalking horses in our own way, perhaps hoping our blundering will expose the traitor...when they move against us.

The third, that Corwin and Benedict are the traitors themselves.

There are, of course, other possibilities.  But the fact is that I am not enamoured with this plan, and suggest we simply fall back upon our own...whatever that may be.

 

Banglen-Yp has looked at Luke and shaken her head as he spoke.

•• I doubt that is anything but talk • because you are not inhuman • dear ••

This had been followed by a bright smile directed at him.

 

Chance pulls his attention from the women and Tahira to comment. "Nothing wrong with being human or inhuman," he says. "So long as you do it in private and wash your hands when you're done."

Chance had grown more used to the bridging used by the group, but his voice still came across awkwardly.

Nothing, that is problematic. It tells us nothing and sets us up for a fall. Classic, but not welcome in this case. I say we keep looking for an ally, and when we find one--that's our traitor.

He wasn't entirely serious about that.

Seems a lot happens here in this town. Maybe it is more related to our problems than we realize. I've got a feeling the answer is just beneath our feet and we're not seeing it.

Roman shakes his head in mock-sadness "There is no certain and inevitable future.  Only probabilities.  It is always possible to beat the odds.  But if you believe otherwise, by all means go to be cheated and murdered - probably."

Over the bridging a message to Morgan "Are you in contact with your panthers ?  If any of us chose to go to the rendezvous, could you guide them ?"

"Cleanliness is next to godliness, or so they say," Luke chuckled.  "Must be why I feel so dirty all the time, Chance."  Banglen-Yp he ignored; he figured that if she wished to make insulting assumptions, that was her own business.

Many of the 'things' into which we find ourselves bumping have import to us, either directly or indirectly.  When one travels via the pattern, I imagine 'random chance', save the the one who walks with us, is the exception rather than the rule.

As for answers...I have so many questions that were I to find an answer, it might take me a bit of time to determine to which question it belonged.

I believe Roman is correct - some of you should observe this meeting.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:41, Tue 10 July 2007.

I'm pretty good at blending in, Chance thinks across the bridging. No powers or anything, though. Just an honest face and a quick change of clothes. I suspect others might fare even better.

"Never understood why cleanliness should be next to godliness. Kind of makes godliness sound cheap and pretentious, like it never worked an honest day in its life."

"If tomorrow is unchanging, then knowing it is of little use, since you can do nothing about it.  But if, as you claim, tomorrow is uncertain, then knowing it is of little use, since what you know has more chance of being wrong than right."

The woman starts to push past Roman, "Either way, knowing what tomorrow holds is of little use."

With a last glare at Donovan, she yanks the door open, and steps out into the rain, ignoring Banglen-Yp, who stands outside, staring up into the sky.


Elsewhere, two huge panthers sit on a roof, observing the same sky.  Lightning blazes almost constantly, rain pounds down onto them, and the wind threatens to knock them from their precarious vantage point.

It is, all things considered, rather like home.

 

Human.

                    Inhuman.

          Misinterpreting.

If they misunderstood the meaning of the word, it was not her fault.  Perhaps they were stuck in too literal thinking.

The strange blonde stood outside, staring up at the rain and the cloud above, wondering if mind were too limited sometimes to understand more than themselves, if even that.

Perhaps in time they would know.

Perhaps in time she would understand what they seemed to share that she did not.

Perhaps in time.


Soaking to the bone, literally, the young humanoid was aware of the woman coming out and ignoring her - she ignored her back as well, focusing on the rain and her own intentions.


Absorbing the rain that fell on her she added to her mass and imagine before her inner eye the end of the change.  Maybe she would achieve nothing, maybe she would, but the only way to know for certain was to try.  There is only try.

 

"I'm out of the 'sneaking around' business by virtue of personality and attitude." Aaron said with a chuckle reverberating through the bridging. An exasperated sigh followed that, clear distaste framing the swordsman's face. "Our hole delves deeper still."

Rolling this news through his mind, Aaron had yet to latch onto a solid plan. It was generally agreed upon that if they waited any longer, either everything would blow up in thier faces, or they'd miss their chance to act. There had to be a middle ground. They had to be able to use all that was coming to pass to their advantage.

Above all, Aaron wished he had all of the minds of his group in the room with him. It may have ended up with them having even fewer answers... but he couldn't help but feel somewhat handicapped by the lack of certain individuals.

"Chance, who would you reccomend for backup in case things go sour at this rendezvous?" Aaron had an idea, but he wanted to see how far ahead the man was thinking.

One of those lounging outside responds to the question, over the bridging,  "One them will tell us in while. The city not big, and they fast"  The thought is slow, comfortable. Not one that has spoken overmuch to the others before.

Another pair rise from the roof, deciding to keep a whisker on the exiting woman, while three or four pad closer to Banglen-Yp. Road-weariness has been shaken off with the thoughts of action, and she is interesting.