The group move across the kill zone, following the road, which appears to have stablised beneath their feet.

By sheer good fortune, it seems, the retreating creatures veer away from them.  Perhaps the great birds, with their armed riders, harrying them from above have made the monsters less willing to fight, or perhaps some other factor is at work here.

One of the ormvråkar sweeps in low, the rider leaning over to peer down at the travellers, and then the bird rises, circles twice, and flies off to rejoin the pursuit of the forest dwellers.

The group of travellers approach the gate, and a great bell starts tolling.  The portal, a massive structure of steel and brass, moves aside with a deep grumbling sound, which sets the very ground vibrating.

Inside, massive stone butresses support the vaulted roof, a hundred feet overhead, where cables and walkways of steel cross and connect in a complex three-dimensional web.  There are great lanterns up there, among the arches, lighting the chamber, which is otherwise empty.

The chamber clearly does not fill the whole ground floor of the structure.  There is a wall opposite the gate, with another gateway, slowly opening, flanked by turrets, and with a parapet of stone, complete with embrasures and merlons, above it.  Along those internal fortifications, gleaming rods of brass and crystal swivel and tilt, sweeping their aim across the group in the courtyard-like area below.

The opening inner gate reveals what appears to be a market place, lit by torchlight and crowded with a great many people.  Just beyond the gate, a broad ramp leads down into the depths of the earth.

A young boy darts forward, out of the crowd in the market place.  "G'day ter yers.  New 'ere, are yers?  Fer a single silver coin, I can lead all o' yers ter a good place ter stay.  Soft beds, an' good food at the Sanctuary Inn."


Elsewhere...

Banglen-Yp, Harlequin and Roman watch as the inner gate opens now.  Beyond it lays another chamber, this one filled with market stalls, stretching away into dimly-lit gloom.  The wagons start forward again, through the gate, and down a ramp which carries them down, below the market, and into darkness.

The three are left (almost) alone, in the watchful presence of the brass and crystal rods.

A raggedly-dressed urchin, leaning against the wall beside the inner gate, calls out to them, "'Allo there.  I seed yers got yerself kicked off o' yer caravan.  That means yer'll 'ave no place ter stay, yeah?  Well, fer jus' an' 'andful o' copper, I can tek yers ter a good place ter kick yer boots off.  Sanctuary Inn... good grub, an' clean beds, if'n yer int'rested, like?"


Elsewhere...

Morgan descends the stairs from the fourteenth parapet.  The attack on the caravan had been... interesting... the first he had actually had a chance to see, since his arrival in this place, two days earlier.

Other than sheer number of attackers, the beasts had shown no organisational ability.  They had simply hurled themselves at the caravan, acting like starved animals.

Nothing new there... he had faced similar (though smaller) attacks himself, on the road here.

What had excited interest, among the defenders of Charyk, had been the way some of those with the caravan had moved to carry the attack to the beasts.  This, it seems, is not the usual approach.  Normal procedure is to stick close together, and defend, every step of the way.

At the seventh corridor, he leaves the stairs and moves across to the Main Stair, the one which will bring him closest to the Sanctuary Inn, and an imminent dinner...

Morgan grins, seeing Leareth dropped down beside him onto the stairs, followed by Ahmad and Saranti. No telling where they'd been, but trust Leareth to show up when he was headed for a meal.

The black panthers, six foot high at the shoulder and broad to match, move casually to flank the young prince as he greeted them. "Ho Leareth, Ahmad. Ho Saranti. Are you being bodyguards or officers today?"

Saranti snorts, hissing a reply. < Both. We're not skipping a meal, but judging by their actions, there's an outbreak of crazy and stupid going around. >

The conversation pauses to let everyone get through the door, and settled around a table. The panthers sitting on their haunches, and Morgan in a comfortable, if somewhat battered chair.  "It wasn't that bad. Maybe they've come through before, and had a grudge."

Snorting disbelief, Saranti fails to argue the matter. Morgan takes a moment to look about the room, and has to laugh. Some of the people were used to him already. But what must they look like to the others? Three huge black beasts, hissing, snarling, and yowling at a young man dressed in red leather and  sky-blue silk?


*< text > ...just my way of indicating, the panthers speak their own tongue. They don't have the right parts to speak Thari.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:46, Wed 25 Oct 2006.

Berd wings down and looks for a friendly shoulder.  He still isn't certain if Dorian would tolerate any level of familiarity, though they have come to a (literally) unspoken truce, and possibly working relationship.  There is one, however, who has always left a perch for him, even in the worst of times.  The drake backwings several times, and lands lightly upon James.


Unless brushed away, the little dragon shifts carefully around (no claws!) and finally settles down, curling up.  His eyes close to tiny, glittering slits.

I kissed you because I was excited and glad to have got through the fight, because I was grateful for your help in the battle, and most of all because you look to be worth kissing.  And that little kiss was just a small taste Roman told her and she tried to grasp the reasoning.

•• We • sur•vive • bat•tle •• Good • thing •• Banglen-Yp said, agreeing that it was a good thing.  Most died only once.

•• Worth • kiss•ing ••

A question, complete with a confused expression and a questioning look at him.

•• Small • taste ••

Something between a statement and a question.  Small taste.  It did not make sense.  How could a taste be small?  She was uncertain.

•• You • like • to • kiss ••

Yet another question.

She had plenty of those.

Glancing back she saw Gabe still sitting there, waiting for time.

Now Chance steps forward again. His clothing is already casual. His guitar once again a guitar. "Allo friend," he greets the urchin with a warm smile and a nod. He only slightly mimicked the lads parlance; blending in was a natural habit. "Aye, clean beds an' warm food is what we seek. Show us the way, would ye? An' how much for a bit a' information, at that?"

Roman answers as they walk "I like to kiss pretty girls.  Like you.  Especially if they are good at kissing back."

When they are accosted by the urchin, Roman handles the situation.  "Indeed, we need lodging while we plan our next move.  Take us to this inn, if it as you say"

Dorian smiled as each monstrosity veered away from them was only minimal- barely noticable. He enjoyed it, the chance to flex a bit of harmless mental muscle. It was light work compared to recent activity.

He noted Berd settling on James' shoulder and remembered the first time the diminutive form had settled on his own shoulder. It was a simpler time. He had been still unaware of the underflow, even. Jack had still been around, then, but only barely. The wear was becoming obvious- eratic behavior.

And what of Dorian? Would the others soon think of him in similar terms- eratic behavior. Running off to destroy worlds on a whim- unsure of his own identity- attacking ex-wives without apparent reason.

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. They didn't need to know. The past was done. Someday, he would deal with Drusilla. This was not the time.

•• Pret•ty • girls ••

Banglen-Yp looked down at herself thoughtfully.  She was only one, was she not?

•• I • am • pretty ••

Another one hard to tell whether it was a statement or a question.

•• Am • I • good • at • kis•sing ••

Definitely a question.

Then the urchin spoke to them and she turned to look at him, smiling.

•• Kick • yer • boots • off ••

She saw her boots flying through the air, people screamign and dodging.  It was rather amusing, strange as it was.  She laughed softly.

•• Grub • an' • beds •• she repeated, looking over at Roman as if asking something.

Roman starts by trying to explain the urchin's words "The boy means a place that we can rest and get a decent meal.  Although I suppose that you might not be hungry...".

As they follow the urchin he adds "You certainly are pretty.  But I can't really tell how good you are at kissing from just one little brush of the lips.   But there will be plenty of time for further...trials."

•• Hung•ry ••

She was not sure.  Perhaps she would find that out as well.

•• Trials ••

Absolutely a question, and she looked at Roman as if wondering what he was actually saying.

•• I • com•mit•ted • no • crime ••

At least not as far as she could tell.  But places where different.  Back there they had been rather upset at first, but she had learnt.  Even if she was not certain why, she had learnt it was a bad thing to do what she had done.  They had mentioned trials too.

Roman laughs.  "Not that sort of trial.  Just a test.  Of how good you are at kissing.  Much more fun than the other sort."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:15, Thu 26 Oct 2006.

•• I • under•stand •• You • want • to • kiss • more ••

Banglen-Yp believed that the man enjoy that kissing so much that he wanted more of it.  From the the screen had shown, it was common.  Somewhere inside, faint memories glimmered, but outside of her reach.

•• Why ••

She was curious and wanted to know, so she asked.

Roman is mildly surprised, but this strange demon-girl does seem to be curiously lacking in human experience. "Why ?  Because I enjoy it, and because I hope that you would enjoy it.  Isn't that a good enough reason ?"

James flashes a quick glance to ensure that Berd has settled comfortably.


He leaves the business of convseration and navigation to Chnace and their newly-acquired guide, being still absorbed in analysis of the tower's defences.  Any assault would be perilous given the killing floors within and without, but he did wonder about the wisdom of the many catwalks overhead.

•• En•joy ••

Is came across as part question, part confirmation, and her expression did little to help as it was quite blank and even distant, as if she was reminiscing.

•• Peo•ple • do • it • be•cause • they • en•joy • it ••

This one was as unclear as the one before.


                                                            <sub>Enjoy.

                                        Reason.

                    Why.</sub>


Banglen-Yp smiled.

Roman nods, as they approach the inn.  "That's the heart of it.  But kissing is also used to express gratitude, friendship, attraction, affection, desire...  It's all in how it's done.  When Gabe turns up, if you wanted to show that you're his friend and that you like him you could give him a little kiss on the cheek. It might make him feel a little better"

Berd remains still as they move through the fortress, silently observing their surroundings from under nearly-closed lids.  The sheen of the little dragon's scales is dulled, muted, and the sparkle of his eyes is faint.

 

                                        _{Kiss on cheek.}


That sounded familiar.  Banglen-Yp nodded thoughtfully.

But the rest...


                                        <sub>Gratitude.

                                                                                Friendship.

                    Attraction.

                                                                                                                        Affection.


                                                  Desire.</sub>


The memories danced away out of reach, or perhaps were they but mirages.


          Were they hers?


•• Oh • Kay ••

What that was to mean was anyones guess.  Meanwhile she grinned like a lunatic.  At least it was a happy looking lunatic.

 

Moving through the gate, into the crowded market, the boy wends his way through the crowd, being careful not to lose his paying customers.  He pauses every so often, allowing Roman and Banglen-Yp time to stop and look at things around them.

And there are a lot of things to see.

Not just on the market stalls, either.  A horde of people move here, wearing such widely disparate costumes that it quickly becomes apparant that they must be from a great many different places.  Not all of the people appear to be entirely human.

The boy keeps up a stream of talk as they go, "This way, yer see."

"Oops, mind yer don't stand in that."

"Santuary Inn, best there is in the 'ole city."

"'andy fer the 'thedral, too, if'n yer wants ter thank someone fer lookin' after yers."

"Don't go too close ter them things.  They looks like chickens, but they got a poison bite.  My mate, Allie, got bit by one, an' 'is arm swelled up this big!" he indicates something about the size of a pumpkin.

Finally he cuts between two stalls, "An' 'ere we are.  Sanctuary Inn."

The Sanctuary Inn is a tower of stone, reaching from the floor to the ceiling of the Trade Ward.  The basic structure is encrusted with wooden extensions, outcroppings, and superstructures, until it resembles a crude sculpture of a tree.  The whole place is covered with windows, and in the gloom of the Trade Ward, most of those windows are lit.  It seems that the place is very popular.


Elsewhere

"This way, gents.  Trust Danny, an' we'll be there in no time." the youngster cheerfully proclaims as he leads the way into the crowded market.  He eyes D'Ombra with interest, "Nice doggie yer got there." he says, before turning his attention to Berd and James, "'ere Mister, yer wouldn't want ter sell that lizard, would yer?"

When it becomes clear that Berd is not for sale, he turns his attention, instead, to Chance, and the opportunity to earn a little extra money.  "So... what sort o' thing yer after then, Mate?  If there's anyfink goes on 'ere, in the Trade Ward, I knows 'bout it."

"Right... all of yers... yer see that fella, over there, in the grey 'at an' coat.  Don't yer be gettin too close ter the likes of 'im.  They's got a bad temper.  All o' them 'as.  Kill yer soon as spit at yer.  Course they gets 'amged if they does, but that don't bring yer back from the dead, does it?"

His attention goes back to Chance again, "So what d'yer need?"



Elsewhere

Morgan relaxes a little at the inn, though the panthers seem a little... irritable.  He awaits his dinner, and the aromas of cooking seep through from the kitchen to fill the common room.

In spite of this being, he has been assured, the most popular inn in the whole of Charyk, this corner of the room is uncrowded.  This might, of course, have something to do with his companions, whose ears brush the ceiling as they sit near him, and whose voices seem to have an oddly unnerving effect on the other guests.

Certainly nobody comes to complain that they are hogging all the warmth from the fire.

Only one person dares to approach, for the moment.  The girl seems to actually like the panthers, and has provided each with a nickname, even if "Kitty", "Puss", and "Mister Grumpy" hardly carry much dignity.

She smiles at Morgan, "Dinner'll be ready in a little bit.  Can I get yer somethin' ter drink, while yer waits?"

Berd raises one eyeridge at the boy, but does not take offense.  Mild amusement sparkles for a moment, nostalgia bittersweet in his mind's signature before weariness overtakes him again.  His tongue dances out, tests the air, and silvery mist puffs from his nostrils.  With an effort, he rouses himself from his half-slumber, once again entering the bridging (still held in place by his half-awake mind) to speak.


The voice trails off, and while the bridging remains, Berd withdraws again.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:41, Thu 26 Oct 2006.

Roman doesn't mind the not-quite-human people.  If anything he finds it adds a touch of familiarity - most of the people of the Courts need to make an effort to appear fully human.

Paying off his guide he pulls out a few extra coppers.  "You can have these if you go back to the place we came for and find this man..." he describes Harlequin.  "He'll probably still be sitting down on the ground, and he'll almost certainly be feeling sorry for himself.  Tell him that Roman says to meet at the Sanctuary Inn.   If you bring him here, without charging him, you can have this" - he shows a silver coin.

Having arranged things with the urchin he turns to Banglen-Yp "Let us go in and arrange lodgings". He holds the door open for her "Ladies first."