The throne room of Amber, at the heart of all worlds...

As the team which have recently exited the cellars enter the room, they find Roman and Finndo already there, in conversation with King Random.  Fiona is also present, turning to deal with this new interruption.  Until, that is, she discovers their identity.

The presence of an Archon in the castle freezes whatever she was about to say in her throat, and she backs away a step, involuntarily.

Random raises a hand to Roman, "Just a moment.", and turns to face the new invasion, "Is that a real Archon?  Or is it merely another shape assumed by your... " he catches sight of the Banglen-Yps, and the question dies, to be replaced by, "Can somebody, anybody, explain what the bloody hell is happening here?"

Once again, an Explanation has been requested.  Tahirah steps forward, making a slow gesture over the group, passing across Amabael, pausing briefly at Luke, and then continuing along past the crowd of Banglen-Yp's.  Then she folds her arms again.

And from within the hood, she says, "... No."

"In short," Chance says. "You'd be surprised at the kinds of things lurking in your cellars, Majesty. I mean ... really."

He drifts to the side in his usual, casual-but-deliberate manner. He turns to survey the small crowd that entered with him. He pauses and glances at Tahirah.

Finally, he shrugs. "Yeah, I'm a bit lost too. Cyan?"

Dorian smirks laconically at the lack of easy explanation.

"Quite obvious that someone needs to set things straight here, though."

Once again, the spokesperson, Cyan manages to avoid rolling her topaz eyes as she steps foward.  "Your majesty."  She bows, considering her words, then begins.  "May I present Amabael, of the Sencathi archons, long-imprisoned by Dworkin, along with the others of Banglen-Yp's..."  She pauses a moment.  "...race."  It doesn't seem wise to struggle through an explanation she barely understands herself.

"Amabael, his Majesty Random of Amber."  Again, it seems wise to keep things simple at the moment.  Berd, for his part, keeps himself silent, focused upon holding a shield over his and Cyan's thoughts.

"Your majesty, Amabael has pledged herself and her people to support my attempt to deal with the Archon threat."  Again, wiser to leave aside the vision she saw when within the archon - the sea of stars, each of them one of the Sencathi.  It had daunted her, but then, what better place to hide an entire race than within a single 'individual'?  "I believe we stand a chance - a good one, if past experiences are any judge."

Questions are asked, and explanations given...

Dworkin himself is responsible for the damaged Trumps, not some external enemy, but his sabotage was intended to defend Amber from those who could use those Trumps against her.

The mad recluse has been working on a weapon to fight the enemy, but his methods have been... misguided, to say the least.  The weapon has been effectively destroyed, and his test subject released.

The group of agents who descended into the cellars in search of Dworkin are almost certainly responsible for the violent tremor which shook the castle some time ago.  The timing of it, compared to their own actions in the cellars, seems to be too close to be a coincidence.

Roman, meanwhile, has an idea which might aid in the Amberite's communication difficulties, caused by their current lack of Trump...

By the time the explanations are complete, Random is looking somewhat more at ease, and several other members of the royal family of Amber have arrived in the room.

"And then it gets really weird," Chance mutters under his breath, hoping only those closest to him will hear it. "Though I've got to admit, when it is all put together, there is a strange sort of sense to the whole tale."

So there's an archon - of a previously unseen type.  A horde of Banglen-Yps.  And Dworkin sabotaged his own people without bothering to tell anyone.  Are things always this eventful around Amber ?  Roman shakes his head and studies the papers provided, looking for a reasonably close commander.  When he has one, he carefully brings the Logrus to mind, sending out a questing tendril.  Just one touch to see if it works...

Aaron managed to keep a straight face when Tahirah answered Random, and, of course, gave Cyan enough respect to allow her to explain the situation.

Luke's comment, however, drove him over the edge. He snorted, then barked a sharp laugh, raising a hand to his forehead as he looked at the throne room's ceiling.

"I never get tired of this grouo."

Shaking his head, he raised a hand and coughed slightly. "Sorry, sorry. It may be best to outline our next steps." He looked to the King, then. "Lord Random, how goes the setting of Amber's defense?"

Cyan bows a single time to the newly assembled royalty.  She's pleased Lord Chanicut has determined a method to facilitate communcation on the line of battle - wars are often lost due to the lack of such things.  She studies the massive form of Prince Gerard as he enters, her keen ruby eyes searching him for a sign of the blade Luke discovered, then returns her attention to Aaron and the King.

What a curious assemblage from across the Myriad Worlds they are.  Lords of Order...and of Chaos.  Emperors.  Protectors of Realms.  Princes and princesses, of several sorts.  Whatever Berd is.  And simple wanderers.

"Indeed, Chance," she replies to the Deathsinger's muttered comment, awaiting Random's answer.  Then Cyan frowns.  "For my plan to have a chance, I need the attention of the greater part of the Nephillim."  Inside, she quails at the thought.  "I...I am uncertain if it would be better to set it in motion now, or wait until this battle is finished.  On the one hand, it seems more likely to garner attention if we succeed in this battle and drive the Archons away to lick their wounds."

Her hands slide behind her back and she begins to pace, a familiar pose, perhaps, to Luke, Aaron, and Chance.  On her shoulder, Berd squawks and settles himself again.

"On the other hand," the General mutters, "getting things going now might fracture the forces arrayed against Amber.  Not a bad idea - if we lose this battle, if Amber falls, we're done."  Her head comes up, eyes dark as Dorian's cloak.  "Might have to do it here, rather than where I planned."

"The defence goes... " Random starts, then grinds to a halt.

"How the defence goes is difficult to gauge, to be perfectly honest.  With no Trumps, we have little contact with our commanders in the field.  Though they are not far away, on Kolvir and in Arden, the terrain does not make it easy to observe the battle."

The king gestures towards the seemingly preoccupied Roman, "Which is where your friend can, hopefully, assist us."

"Had I the time, I could forge palenqueti of my own," Cyan muses, understanding the King's frustration.  "Mine seem to still function...if you desire, I have certain cards already, some that might assist."  The deck comes out with a snap of the wrist, like a gunfighter drawing his pistol.  "While not as omnipresent as Sir Roman's abilities, they can provide communication with certain people in the field.  James, for one.  Aaron and Dorian, should they desire to assist."

Out comes the card for James, that of the weary soldier at a temporary rest.

She considers further, eyes lightening toward sapphire.  "With only minutes, I could provide sketches for others, but they would have to be people I know.  I apologize, your majesty - I should have thought of this earlier."

A wave to the drake on her shoulder.  "Berd would provide communication, but one wiff of his presence and many archons would immediately descend upon us..."  She frowns.  "Which begs the question of why they have not."  Slowly Cyan turns in place, waving a hand toward the walls.  "The Nephillim travel through the Underflow - they could be here, now, in the middle of this room, this castle, should they desire.  Is there something keeping them from doing so...or is it their choice?"

"A caution," Tahirah offers, slipping into her more comfortable advisory roll.  "If they had Cards of these leaders before they learned of the infection, then quite possibly they bear the Mark, and connecting your own Cards to them could expose you also.  Unless it can be reliably recalled who has not been contacted by Card since before Dworkin's touch."

Then, turning to Random, her voice comes out from her hood sounding a little bit perplexed, and it's quite possibly for the best that the King can't see her expression.  "If it's only an overview of the battle that you lack, I left a partial scrying map atop one of the towers.  It wouldn't take very long to bring it to a more functional level.  If you have..." she drifts a hand thoughtfully in front of her, "Artifacts, or symbologies, of your commanders, they can probably be connected to send messages, also, although that would take longer."

Amabael turns slowly, matching Cyan's motions, + THEY MAY HAVE DETECTED THE TRAP WHICH WE, OURSELVES FELL INTO.  OR HARBONAH MAY HAVE HELD THEM BACK FOR SOME PURPOSE.  OF THE TWO, WE BELIEVE THE LATTER IS THE MORE PROBABLE. +

Random nods at Cyan's words, then sighs as he realises the flaw in her plan at the same time as Tahirah does.  "We can't be sure who is infected, so allowing anybody here to use your cards could ruin them."

"Which raises an interesting point...  Could it be that Dworkin only tainted the Trumps here because he couldn't affect them elsewhere.  Or could he have been hoping that continued Trump use by people outside Amber would serve to distract our enemies."

Tahirah's offer brings a smile, "If you can show us the battlefield, and Roman can pass messages to our commanders, then we may have the means to win this battle."