"No fear."  Luke swung a bottle out from under his coat, proffering it.  "There you are."

"Plan?  What plan?"  He gestured.  "Most of you are just getting up.  Dorian's on the wire, and discussing the possibility of trying to make a stand, here.  Seems he has an idea for how to grab Cyan from the middle of our enemies."

He shrugged.  "I don't think he has properly considered the ramifications of trying to capture Cyan at the same time as we deal with whatever force she brings against us.  The woman is supposed to be some kind of strategic and tactical genius, correct?  I doubt very much this will be a case of her and enough Archons to make this a 'fair' fight.  Then again, you can hardly blame the man."

"Here, I'll bring you in, now."  And with that, Luke drew Chance into Berd's bridging.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:38, Mon 20 Nov 2006.

Roman wraps an arm around Banglen-Yp, in an almost-hug.  "Not too bad, I hope..." he says as he brings his face close, not sure if to go for a good-morning kiss and hoping that Banglen-Yp will solve the problem by kissing him first.

"Breakfast, and over breakfast we can decide what we do today..."

 

Watching as the arm rounds her, Banglen-Yp's face are for a moment turned away from Roman's.

•• Not • as • bad • as • the • day • will • be•come ••

A simple statement, casual, without gloom and doom other than the meaning of the words themselves.  But they carried enough.

She turned back to look at him, smiled brightly and kissed him...

                    ...on the cheek.

Starting to move away she appeared content with that.

•• Break•fast ••

 

Roman follows, "What do you mean ?  How bad is today going to be ?  What's going to happen ?  I can get us away from here, you know.  We don't have to stay and face whatever you're expecting."

 

A shrug and, yes, a smile before a carefree statement.

•• Re•al•i•ty • is • al•ways • worse • than • bad • dreams ••

A finger pointed at her own self.

•• I • do • not • know • the • fu•tu•re • only • the • pre•sent ••

A giggle and another shrug.

•• Dan•ger • finds • you • an•y•where ••

An oddly upbeat statement.

 

Roman sighs.  "I hope that you mean that a bad reality is worse than a bad dream.  But if you want to stay here, I suppose I had better stay, too.  We can try to protect each other again."  He moves to take her arm, as he did the previous evening.  "Anyway, breakfast first"

 

•• No •• Re•al•i•ty • is • al•ways • bad • some•where • and • bad • dreams • go • a•way ••

Unusually talkative.  Perhaps all the blonde needed had been a good (?) nights rest.

          Or maybe not.

She nodded.

•• Break•fast ••

 

"Thanks," Chance accepts the bottle with a smile. It would burn with an empty stomach and nothing to follow it, but he figured it might help with whatever was coming. He'd get some food in there soon enough, even if he had to fight and eat at the same time.

Chance's mind enters the bridging, but remains quiet, curious and a little nervous. Such mental exploits were still alien to him.

As they walk down the stairs Roman attempts to take a more positive view "It's true that reality is always bad somewhere - but it's always good somewhere else.  It's a matter of being with the right place - or with the right person"

 

•• Yes • but • bad • dreams • are • not • some•where • else •• They • are • gone • when • you • wake • up ••

A smile along with the more elaborate answer.

•• Re•al•i•ty • is • hard•er • to • es•cape ••

Then she seemed to listen to someone unheard voice or sound.

•• Most • of • the • time ••

A cryptic statement while the smile changed into a cryptic one.

          Or perhaps it was a trick of the light.

 

As they enter the common room Roman answers her.  "This sort of 'reality'" - he gestures to encompass the room - "is easy for me to escape.  I can just walk to a different one that suits me better.  And I can take you with me."

"Dreams are harder to escape,  you have to wait to wake up."

 

Shaking her head and putting on a near sad face, Banglen-Yp considered how to explain.

•• No •• You • are • still • in • re•al•i•ty ••

Then she shook her head again and smiled.

•• No •• Bad • dreams • wake • you ••

Her attention then went to the room.  Perhaps something else curious was about today.

          Other than her.

 

James rose, bleary-eyed.  His sleep had been troubled and for the moment he felt wearier for having slept.  He took a moment to clear his thoughts and prepare himself before descending to the common room.

Roman selects a table and sits down.

"Reality is a very complicated subject.  But alright.   When dealing with things that are real in the sense that this place is real I can always choose to be somewhere else, where nothing bad is happening.  It might take a bit of effort to get to where I really want to be, but I can do it."

Greil scowls, then carefully makes sure he has to be elsewhere when Heyden returns, this time with Jounach, one of the Lords of Charyk.  The youngest, as it happens, if somebody almost eighty years of age can really be called "youngest".  In Greil's view, he's also the meanest, but in a group who consider torturing kittens a pleasant after-dinner pastime, such distinctions are mostly meaningless.

Jounach studies the restless ormvråkar for a few seconds, then speaks to Heyden, "So... if I have this straight, you called me all the way up here, and away from my breakfast, because the ormvråkar are a little ... edgy... today?  Mmmm?  Is that it?"  He glances at the row of open doors, and the empty air beyond, and takes half a pace away from them.

"My Lord, they are more than a little ed... "

"Do not contradict me, Lieutenant.  So... has it escaped your notice that these... " he waves one gnarled hand towards the great birds, " ... are ormvråkar?  Mmmm?  They are, by their very nature, surly, awkward, mean-tempered, irritable, and downright bloody vicious.  To such an extent, in fact, that we use the term bird-brained to describe the most dangerous of criminals, do we not?  Mmmm?"

"Yes, My Lord, but... " Heyden pauses, as Jounach glares at him.  Dangerous ground now... courage is required, and the watch Lieutenant manages to summon it up, "But they don't normally start this early, and today, they seem... well... scared of something as well."

"Scared?  Mmmm?  Well why didn't you bloody well say so?  Scared is not normal.  Not in the least.  Tell me, Lieutenant, has anything unusual happened lately?  Mmmm?"


In the Sanctuary Inn, the guests gather for breakfast, the same group as yesterday (albeit Morgan knows the panters are different, settling once more at the corner table.

Garvin himself is serving this morning, seemingly no more cheerful than the previous evening.  "Mornin'.  I trusts yers all slep' well.  Breakfast terday, yer c'n 'ave porridge, or yer c'n 'ave eggs, or bacon an' eggs.  What'll it be?"

 

•• No •• Re•al•i•ty • is • re•al•i•ty ••

Another attempt to explain what could not be explained.

•• Eve•ry•one • can ••

A statement.

•• It • is • ne•ver • ea•sy ••

Another one.

Then her attention went to the grumpy man from last night.

•• Poor • Ridge •• she told him.

 

Aaron sat, one leg idly crossed over the other. If one thing could be said about him (and many, many things could), it was that he was not a morning person. He remained silent, having harnessed a radiance of 'leave me alone' that could not be denied.

However, that time passed eventually as he gauged what they were up against. At the mention of Cyan, Aaron frowned and closed his eyes.

"It would be advantageous of us to capture Cyan, if capturing her was at all possible - however, she thinks things twelve steps ahead of where you're already standing. I have never fought Cyan, and for very, very good reason."

Was he scared of her? No. That much was sure. Did he want to kill her, still? The possibility remained that such might be the case... but that other part of him remained, stolid and stubborn that such a thing was pointless.

"No matter the case, we must see her alive and in our company once more. Our primary goals should be the defense of this world and the containment of Cyan by any means necessarry. If that is even possible."

"She will have an army such as has never been seen. They will be exhibiting powers and abilities that are far beyond the typical, and these powers stretch through the Myriad Worlds. Our time is up. Running is no longer an option."

Reaching into his pocket, he found a cigarette. Aaron lit it and took a long, comforting drag.

"Whatever happens," he exhaled. "We're going to kill the enemy today."

Aaron's words are conveyed through the bridging immediately.  Berd, from up in the rafters, stares down with solemn, burning eyes.  He raises them, staring out into the distance, through the walls, to some point far away.  Perhaps through time.


Aaron's words hold merit, as did Dorian's a scant time before...how can they abandon this place?  As Dorian says, if they leave, it will still fall.  People will be slain.  Berd cannot, will not walk away knowing their presence here has brought ruin.

But how can he fight his daughter?

Despite his empty stomach, the drake's appetite has deserted him.  For once.

From up in his room, Dorian pauses at the door as he listens to Aaron and then Berd.

He didn't relish either option, fleeing or fighting. Yet, they all seemed to sense inside that the time to make a stand was now. There is a subtle shift in his psyche as more recent parts are shoved aside, and the old general steps forward.

"Bacon and eggs for me"  Roman tells the grumpy inkeeper

Turning back to Banglen-Yp he goes on "No, most people can only move within a single world.  Most don't know that there are other worlds.  But a few people - few compared to the millions that even one world might hold - can freely move between the worlds.  I can do that.  Something bad might happen to this world, but we could go elsewhere - to any world you might want."

 

Appearing to think about what Roman said for a while, Banglen-Yp evetually shrugged her shoulders with a smile.

•• It • is • still • re•al•i•ty ••

Then it came, a question that no doubt would make the man sweat.

•• Please • tell • me • how • you • move • to • an•oth•er • world ••

 

Roma nods seriously.  "This is not really a secret, but we try not to spread it around.   I would call on the power of the Logrus, the Sign of Chaos.  I would fix my mind on the desired destination and I would walk or ride.  As I travelled I would use the power of the Logrus to pull myself - and any I cared to take with me through Shadow."

"Likewise if I want something I can use the Logrus to get it.  If I want money or fresh clothes or anything that might be found in a nearby world I can call on the Logrus to bring it to me."

"Bacon and eggs for me," Morgan answered Garvis, setting the appropriate payment in his hand.

"So...judging by everyone's faces, the danger's striking today?" The statement was meant as a joke, but fell flat before it left his tongue. It truly was likely something would happen before the sun set.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:23, Tue 21 Nov 2006.

 

Nodding, Banglen-Yp persisted.

•• How • do • you • acc•ess • this • Lo•grus •• Can • you • teach • me ••

It sounded nifty, the travelling part.

She frowned lightly.

•• You • steal ••

A query rather than a statement.

 

Roman shakes his head "No, I can't teach you.  It can't be taught.  And it has dangers even for a Chaos Lord, and far worse for anyone else.  I wouldn't risk you like that.  And it isn't really stealing.  All sorts of things get lost..."

Noticing Morgan, Roman sees an opportunity to change the subject  "Hey, you ! Morgan!  Come over here, there has been a...miscommunication that I would like you to correct..." there is a definite note of annoyance in your voice.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:34, Tue 21 Nov 2006.