Menawhile Roman is still musing on Luke's comments.  Although the presence of an outsider means that speech must be more circumspect.  "I don't know if I'll be much use in Amber.  If I can do more elsewhere, I'm ready to go."

"What I would like to do is find Mr. Corey and explain a few facts to him.  A pointed argument or two, some applications of cutting wit, that sort of thing," Luke mused quietly.  He tapped his jaw thoughtfully.  "Or trap him in a gravity shear, let it tear him asunder."  His eyes brightened.  "One or the other.  In any case, someone to find."

With that, Luke reopened the bridging for discussion - any and all at the inn could, should the desire, re-enter.

Roman, tough question.  It looks like one small group is considering a recon.  Another group should be ferreting out the traitor.  That's the one who is doing a great deal of damage to us.  He or she would also be a font of information.  I can understand your reluctance to enter Amber, given your own situation, but...

His fingers clenched, and their tips steamed in the dim light.  "We need that traitor.  Someone needs to seek them out.

Or maybe force him to listen to really bad music for a long time," Chance adds.

He slips into the bridging with a little more comfort than before. He's getting used to this thing, now. I suppose nothing says we couldn't fragment the group even further: two groups to Amber, one diplomatic, one covert and investigative. But that's a whole lot of fragmenting going on, if you ask me.

I do agree that finding the traitor is a priority. My instinct says the best way to do it is to set a trap, but I'm not sure how to do that. Any ideas?

I mean, if one were suicidal, they could walk into Amber and announce they have information on a traitor that they plan to share, very soon. Problem is Amber has so many traitors, you'd have to be very specific or you'd have thirty or so siblings aiming for you.

 

Looking down at her hand as he squeezed it, Banglen-Yp smiled faintly and a minuscule shrug moved her shoulders.

•• I do not remember ••

It was a simple statement, sounding a bit sad but also therein was a hint of amusement.

•• But I remember a little more than when I first became • so perhaps more will return •• But • I feel alone even here •• Am I the only one ••

The first statement sounded almost hopeful, where as the last, the rhetorical question, sounded sad, almost scared.

 

James adopts a friendly, but cautious, silence in the presence of the Rokt.  He is present in the bridging, however, and chooses to speak.

That's pretty much exactly the plan I had in mind, Chance.  That's why I went and announced myself to Corwin and Benedict.  I plan to act as bait.  I am known there, though not well, and my presence will be noted anyway.  Someone who is not so well known, such as yourself, Roman or Meredith would better suit the covert role.

Corwin didn't like the plan.  He thought it better that we all stay concealed.  But as we keep coming back to, time is against us, so I'm happy to stick my neck out.  Cyan agrees, I think.

Breakfasts start to appear on the table, almost as if by magic.  The Rokt takes two of them, and starts shovelling scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon into his mouth with great gusto.  From the speed with which he eats, one might almost suspect that hadn't had any food in a month or more.

He doesn't seem to chew, before swallowing.

Speaking only between large mouthfuls of food, he says, "Do you know dhis Carl Corey, dhen?  Personally, or just his reputation?  I found him most impressive.  Big, even by dhe standards of dhe Rokt.  I liked him, well enough, dhough at dhat time I knew nodhing of his trickery."

Roman joins the bridging, with a sigh as he moves to sit down.  It's not just for my benefit.  My presence could complicate things for the rest of the group.  Especially if I were discovered spying.  Unless you need a shapeshifter, in Amber, I'm probably better deployed elsewhere. "

"We also ought to discuss suspects.  I know a little of the royal family of Amber.  Hopefully others here know more."

Still up in her room, Tahirah nevertheless feels the subtle invitation to the bridging at the edge of her consciousness.  Tentatively, she lets it in, letting herself listen to the ensuing conversation.

Forgive me if I misunderstand, she says, tentatively.  Your people are, or have been, enemies of this Amber?  Is it not possible, if that is true, that the traitor might choose to contact you, above any other?

Aaron took a final drag on his cigarette, putting it out on the toe of his boot. He hadn't exactly been blocking the contact, but he gathered his thoughts in order before letting it through.

 As he exhaled, he spoke a tired, but anticipatory greeting:

"Yes, Cyan?"

Morgan shakes his head. "I don't, but with dozens of friends along, I wouldn't. It sounds like you had an injury, and the damage is healing. More like one of the cats than one of my kind, I guess."  Pulling his flask out, he offers her a drink, before taking his own swig.  The burning liquid focuses his attention a bit more in the now, discarding memories of some of his gloomier poems.

Helping himself to breakfast, Roman replies "Maybe, or maybe he or she would be less inclined to approach me.  The traitor has an agenda - you may count on that - and one that doubtless extends beyond betraying Amber to the Seraphim.  At this point they may even wish to defend Amber, but without revealing their role in creating the peril."

"Guessing on such little information as we have will get us nowhere.  But we do need a plan, and one that no suspects - not even the Princes here - knows of."

I will have to leave the planning to you, Luke stated over the bridging.  Frankly put, it would be far, far too dangerous for me to be with you when you go to Amber.  I would capture too much attention, and might even be considered a threat.  Chaoslords they know of old, and may be arrogant in their feelings of superiority.  I am something 'new', something they have not seen before.  His mouth twitched in a smile.  I will not claim more potence than any here, but people tend to fear and distrust that which is unknown.

A familiar 'enemy', though...you might open doors, Roman.  Especially if you claim to be an envoy.  Without their Trumps, they have no way of verifying your credentials...and besides, you may simply be acting on behalf of your House rather than the Chaos Crown, which renders your claim truthful.

"Don't know him personally," Chance replies. "Just reputation. I suppose you could recognize him if you saw him again? I'm sure we'll run into him sooner or later, and any information helps."

Good then, James. I didn't want to mention anyone by name, politeness still being worth something in the Worlds. So, we have our highly visible bait, then. We should have someone, someones, stick close to him for back.

If the other group is to be more covert, perhaps they should enter Amber a different way?

Aaron, how are the others?

The Rokt nods to Chance, barely pausing in his eating.  "I would know him, yes, even after all dhese years.  A big human.  Strong as a bull.  Eyes of grey.  Hair was mix of red and black, and a little grey in it.  Same as dhe beard.  A stern man, he was.  Most serious.  Never heard him laugh in dhe four days he was at my home."

The Rokt finally pushes the plate aside, empty, and clean.

"We talked about business and trade.  He told me of dhe cube, and I decided dhat I must have it.  I hire dhe Chanactarsa to find it...  Dhe best trackers I knew of, and you know dhe rest.  Dhey take years to find it, and dhen I find dhat dhe zgorichnadt device would be curse, not blessing."

"They fare well, Chance..." he answered that question through both the contact with Cyan, as well as the bridging. Moments later, he severed himself from the bridging, focusing on Cyan alone.

"Things proceed apace, Cyan. Another Cube has been found," he began, and described to her their most recent discoveries and occurences. He couldn't help it, and he knew he shouldn't have been surprised by it, but the sheer size of that cube had staggered him.

Then he absorbed her statement. Harbonah's stronghold. Sneaking within its boudaries. There was momentary alarm at this fact, one he deliberately channeled through his contact with Cyan.

"I humbly request a haiatus on that particular journey, my dear." Aaron sounded both concerned and agitated. It was his mind's way of processing everything about such an action, possiblities, plans, focusing each and everything he could about that inevitable undertaking into a dense core of action. "Amber has been the destination for a few of us, and I would definetly prefer to be at your side when you infiltrate Harbonah's demense."

His jaw was set, as he rolled Amber over, revealing Harbonah's hell in his mind's eye as its opposite.

"I need to take care of one final, personal thing. An ending. It will not take me long, but I must reach Amber to do it."

"One way or another, Cyan, I will be with you when you enter his sanctuary."

He said that last aloud, then reconstituted himself into the bridging, along wtih his Trump, sharing Cyan's eventual plans with the rest of the group.

"Those of us who wish to, should proceed to Amber," he said within the bridging and through his contact with Cyan. "Our destination after that, has apparently been set. I agree with it. It is action when we need action, and we need to act as soon as possible."

Roman sighs, and takes another forkful of breakfast before continuing.  "Maybe.  But I'd need a good story.  Even then if word got back to Chaos it could cause trouble.  Perhaps I should say I represent a faction.  Or maybe just go as a tourist, wanting to see the place before the Archons destroy it....I'll think on it.

 

Slowly shaking her head, both at the offer of the flask and the question, the strange blonde shrugged and smiled feebly at Morgan.

•• I believe I was • what is the word ••

She paused for a moment, brooding.

•• Dusted ••

She watched him as if waiting for a confirmation and only briefly glanced over at the one she believed was named Aaron as he spoke to the woman Cyan, who did not seem to be present.

•• Why does he talk to someone not here •• Has he got a cell ••

Two rather confused-sounding questions.

 

Caution is admirable, Luke noted.  While Trump may be ineffective, spells could prove efficacious to communication between Chaos and Amber...and there are other methods aside.

I mention you, Roman, because with your background in Chaos you are one of the few people in this group who is actually acquainted with high-level courtly intrigue.  And low-level as well, of course.  There came that sharp smile again.  Who else here has had such time in air as rarified as that of the Court of Amber?  Some, certainly.  But again, certainly not all.

Chance smiles. "A more detailed description than we've had, perhaps. Well, if you happen to see him while we're together, point him out to us, would you? We should be about read, we have a few more people outside the city getting ready, too."

"I don't know the term."  Morgan half-apologizes. "I think one of them has a mental link up again. Not sure I understand their magic, but it seems convenient."

He tries to think of a topic change, and one comes to him.  "Do you want to see what the map-maker  has for us?"

 

Banglen-Yp shrugged and smiled a bit askew.

•• It may not be the correct term • and I am uncertain how to describe it •• Beside • I still cannot say for certain what did happen ••

An explanation, and then her face lights up with curiosity.

•• Mental link •• Again •• Like telepathy or something sci-fi like that ••

Three rapid questions, making her little furry friend look up at her to see if she is all right.

 

James pays particular note to the description of Carl Corey.  Once again there is an elusive quality.  Hints of the family features but not in any combination that matches the Aunts and Uncles he knows.

"It's a better description than the one we had.  Thank you."

Suspects, Roman?  I don't think any of us have spent enough time in Amber to know the prospects all that well.  Everything I've heard tells me it's family, but it doesn't match anyone in particular.  Carl Corey is an alias used by Corwin who is a big, strong man with grey eyes, but there's no red in his hair.  And plenty of people know of that alias, it could easily be a red herring.

My thoughts run in a different direction.  At least two Amberites could change shape courtesy of their ties to the Courts.  I think we can safely rule out Oberon, but when I reach Amber I'll be trying for a word with Dworkin.  As I understand it, my great-grandfather is largely responsible for the universe as we know it.  I wonder how he feels about that responsibility?  Anyway, it should prove illuminating.

Roman's response to James is forceful, almost vehement.  "All of the royal family of Amber must be considered suspects.  Not a one of them can be trusted.  And Dworkin could well be the traitor.  He betrayed Chaos for the sake of power.  He is one of the few likely to have the knowledge to find and contact thae Archons.  Would he treat the land of his creation better than the land of his birth ?  I do not know.  Be very careful in dealing with him.  I cannot even guess the limits of his power."

To Cyan, he said:

"I understand. Once I am finished in Amber, time will no longer be as much of an issue for me, though I will certainly move as fast as I am able. I also agree with you, in that we need particular individuals to investigate Amber. I'm just not one of those types, I suppose."

Then, into the bridging he continued:

"I don't mean to interrupt the current train of converstaion, but Cyan and I need to be sure of who is going to be investigating in Amber, and who is moving with her to Harbonah's refuge. I will travel to Amber for nothing but a short while before I join her, so I need a 'show of hands' so to speak before we get finalized."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:06, Sun 02 Sept 2007.

The Rokt looks from Chance to James, and back again.

"If I see him, I will tell you, just before I turn his face into one large bruise.  But I doubt dhat I will get dhat chance.  When I met him, I was far from here.  Dhis city is just a convenient place to meet dhe Chanactarsa women.  My home is a great many weeks of travel from here.  Dhat is where I met Carl Corey, and it was years ago."

"Ah... I wish dhat I had had one of dhose tzeckhut iconomatics when I met him.  I might have had a picture of him to show you today.  But I had not, so my poor description must do for now."

He shakes his head, ruefully, and  sighs, "I suppose it can't be helped."

Then he seems to pick up again, "So, you will travel to Amber, dhen, my friends?  I envy you.  I have often wondered if dhere would be a good market dhere for my stock, but somehow dhere is always some pressing reason not to go...  Dhe harvest is inferior, and dhe roots would give bad impression to customers.  Or dhere is a war, and dhe routes are not safe.  Or my ship is in need of repairs after big storm.  Always somedhing."

"Maybe one day, I will go dhere to find out what it is like."</b>

His face grows thoughtful then and, hesitantly, he asks, "If I gave you letter, introducing me, could you deliver it to possible customer in Amber?  Is possible dhat you do dhis?"