The voyage continues, without further incident.  Or, at least, without further unfortunate incident...

At dawn, the day after the fight, Captain Rovane resumes her position at the helm.  True, she doesn't take the helm, assigning that duty to a series of trusted crew, but she claims that the pain is gone, at least for the most part, even if she does admit that she doesn't think she's healed completely.

Which might explain the somewhat reduced volume of her shouted orders, though that has no perceptible effect on the simple fact that the "lazy, good-for-nothing" crew of Seahorse have already carried out most of those orders, almost before they were given.

The ship, herself, remains emminently seaworthy, despite the battering she received during the battle with the shapeshifter, and there is little for the passengers to do...  The wind remains fair, though it does drop a little, slowing the ship slightly, and eliciting a round of cursing from the good captain, as she recalculates their speed.

By the next morning, Rovane is keeping one hand on the wheel, though she does not take it yet.  As the passengers come up on deck, she laughs and points to a faint, hazy smudge, standing on the horizon, directly ahead, "Kolvir!  We make port in Amber before dusk."

Benedict, all pretense of being a simple sailor now discarded, nods curtly, "Good."  He approaches the gathered group of passengers, and asks quietly, "Your plan?"

Far from the docks of Amber, destination of the swiftly moving Seahorse, beyond even the landward walls of the city, the lone traveller sits atop a gentle rise, with his back against a tree.  As he watches the road about twenty yards away, and a little lower than his current position, he bites into an apple, and chews thoughtfully.

The road is busy, perhaps more busy than usual.  A casual observer might believe that the traffic indicates a high level of prosperity and wealth in the city.  A more careful obvserver would, however, note that all the traffic is flowing towards Amber, and seems to be moving almost silently, and with a sort of nervous haste.

The man sitting beneath the tree is nothing, if not a careful observer.

Things have clearly changed in Amber since he was last here.  To his mind, the traffic flow indicates some sort of problem in the farmlands beyond the city.  Something which is frightening the populace, and driving them towards the safety provided by the walls, gates and troops.  Something like a rumoured invasion, perhaps.

Of course, the traveller realises, the safety they are seeking may be illusory.  Walls and gates and troops can do little to protect against the most likely enemy.  For defence against that enemy, other things are required.

With a sigh, the traveller throws aside the remnants of the apple, and stands, gathering up his pack and other belongings, to start the walk towards the same gates that the crowd is heading for.  His reasons, though, are different.  He has family in the city.  Possibly friends too, unless they have long since moved on.  There is a promise to be fulfilled, and perhaps Amber holds the key to that fulfillment.

As he joins the flow of people towards the walls, only a couple of miles distant, the nearer ones edge away from him, as they realise that he is engaged in a conversation with nobody...

"Trust in me, and I will give you victory."

My hope rests in those words, Aaron thought to himself. On his lips were whispered, mumbled prayers to some mysterious, nameless God, and true to Aaron as a person, he didn't even notice that he was praying.

He shifted his belongings, his blade rattling in its scabbard as the backpack ground against it. As he passed the gates of Amber, he paused beside a small fountain, to fill a pair of canteens from his side. As he did so, he gazed upon himself within the pool.

His hair was short, now. A month ago, in the reflection from the tepid puddle in the center of his black cell, it had looked like a nest for rats. Now it was simply a controlled, chopped mess of brown-blonde curls going every which way. The hands of Aaron's captors hadn't spared his looks, or his physique. The phyiscal pain was long gone, now... but some pains never disappeared.

Aaron had lost his long coat, with its seemingly innumerable pockets, somewhere along the way. He'd replaced it with a much more durable riding jacket of rough brown leather. His trousers were bound at the ankles above his hard leather boots, a sturdy black belt cinched about his waist by a flat bronze buckle. Beneath the jacket was the armor Herzkreig, while beneath that was a simple black shirt. Beneath that... were scars atop scars.

Other things had changed. His eyes, once succumbing to the autumn-fall of colors that marked an encounter with the old magic of San Anyn, had finally settled on their aged, dull brown. Yet occaisonally, there was an inconsistent flicker of orange, red or gold that would only last a moment. They seemed a bit sunken and baggy if one only glanced at him, but a closer inspection revealed a strange energy behind the eyes themselves, as if he was charged with lightning.

Aaron spotted this energy himself, and laughed aloud in the midst of the teeming, silent procession that flowed around him. Such a reaction of amusement seemed to shake up the locals even more, and Aaron, surprisingly, turned to the nearest few and apologized. Even stranger, he would reach out and intervene to the occaisonal lost-looking traveler, or anxious farmer. He would whisper words of hope and comfort, and the strength behind his eyes was transferred from him to them. A woman began to weep. Her husband set his jaw, nodding sternly in the Worldwalker's direction before pushing on.

As it was, Aaron felt fatigue. The fatigue of decades and decades of travel, once wearing at the soul, had been replaced by the fatigue of these poor people, who now struck Aaron as deeply afraid. For if Amber itself was in jeopardy, and now at the hands of some awesome, determined enemy that wasn't born of Amber's own sire, how could a single farmer, or a housewife, or a barkeep, wish and hope for the survival of his own houshold, nevermind the entirety of such a grand kingdom as this?

Aaron began to sing, a quiet tune that he'd heard in another world. Another voice, young, high, matched him for tune. A young boy, leading a broken old mule behind him, had been infected by Aaron's desire for hope.

For Aaron too had family here, and it was to the side of his grandson's daughter that his journey would eventually lead him. He shifted his pack once again, taking strength from his determination.

James sleeps heavily.  It is always strenuous to walk the Pattern, even when it is just a form of autohypnosis, and guiding someone else through a broken Pattern is doubly hard if not worse.

He is quite pleased, however, that the exercise worked.  Certainly come the morning the Captain looked to have healed somewhat.  How much of that was down to him, or to Banglen-Yp, or even to the Captain's natural resilience would probably never be determined.

"We have precious little in the way of a plan.  There is a traitor in Amber.  We have some leads, but I don't know how far they can be trusted.  After all, that creature from yesterday was the second I have encountered in Cadiniagart and the Golden Circle.  How many more dopplegangers might be about?"

"I will ask the family to meet, as many as can come given that the Trumps are suspect.  I will ask Bleys to present me as a nephew.  I will report as much of our efforts against the enemy as I think it safe to reveal.  And I will announce that there is a traitor in Amber and that I mean to reveal him, or her as the case may be.  In other words I intend to shake the tree and see what falls out."

And yes, I know how dangerous that will be.

As if a traitor in Amber would be news...

"Not much of a plan, I must admit.  I have to add that I cannot be seen to offer significant aid or harm to Amber, without risk of severe inconvenience to myself and my House, back home"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:58, Thu 11 Sept 2008.

Tahirah gives a quiet nod after Roman's comment, but nudges it a little back.  "It is the carefully laid plan that fails before the pen leaves paper," she suggests.

Benedict's response to James' explanation is a simple nod, and "Flexible.  Good.  I'll talk to Random about a meeting."


It takes some time, but Aaron draws closer to the wall, and the crowd grows more dense as he does so.  The reason is soon evident.  The gate to the city is guarded.  Not in the manner he would expect to see though.  There seem to be upward of thirty men, armed, and wearing the livery of Amber, stationed outside the gate.  One of the men is mounted, probably an officer of some description.

As people approach the gate, the troops stop them, ordering them into line.  Singly, or in small, family groups, they are called forward.  The officer speaks to them briefly.  Most are then permitted to enter the gate, while a few are directed to wait at the side of the road.

Aaron reaches the troops, and is directed to take his place at the end of the line...

The man with the place in front of him, accompanied by a woman and two young children, twins by the looks of them, though it's hard to be sure through the dirt, turns his head as Aaron takes up position behind him, "Wonder how bloody long this'll take.  Since word came of the invasion, every bugger's trying to get in to the city."


Benedict moves away, but not before giving each of the other passengers an appraising look.  He makes his way to the captain, and the pair are soon engaged in a quiet conversation.

The distant mountain grows more distinct as time passes, and before too long, it becomes clear that there is an extensive dark stain spreading across the lower slopes.  Amber itself.  Shortly after that, something else becomes apparent.

Smoke is starting to rise over a wide area.

Behind the mountain, something big has started burning, the smoke blowing inland, away from the city and the sea.

Aaron remained quiet for a time, though he was initially going to comment on the delay. He thought better of it, considering the situation.

There was an antsy energy about this place, though the underlying sense of building tension could not be ignored. Above all, Aaron decided that he'd end up having to look into it eventually. He made his priorities and waited for his turn in line.

James looks around at each of his travelling companions before turning to regard the mountain Kolvir.

"We will have to move faster than I had hoped, James says, "For that smoke can only mean one thing:  Arden is burning.  The war may already have reached the gates of the city."

"I have a nasty feeling that I will look back on this voyage, chimera and all, as a restful interlude."

Roman shrugs.  "If it is outside the city, it is just a prelude.Or a feint.  Perhaps even a trap.  Harbonah will have lost prestige at Charyk.   Destroying those  who defeated his forces there would do much to restore his standing."

Tahirah stands still at the side of the ship, watching the smoke swirl and waft, as she had watched the storm in Cardiniagart, or the wreckage float by before.  Seeking the patterns in the chaos.

She would very much like to ask what Arden is; from James' tone, it sounds important.  But professing ignorance is as much her strong suit as it is, say, Fiona's, so she stays to herself.

Aaron waits.  Occasionally he shuffles forward a few paces, but mostly he waits.  And thinks.


Seahorse moves ever closer to the port.  The mountain looms higher, blocking more and more of the sky, and details of the city become more apparent.  It bears a startinng resemblance to Cadiniagart, when viewed from this angle, albeit a Cadiniagart writ large.

There seems to be no signs of damage or warfare on this side of the mountain.  Just Amber.  Busy as ever.  There are other ships visible, moving around the harbour, now.  Not fleeing though... some are leaving, yes, but an equal number are arriving.  Not a few of those ships are flying the colours of Amber.

It seems that, even with a war on her doorstep, it's business as usual in this city at the heart of the Myriad Worlds.


At last, as the sun nears the horizon, Aaron finds himself facing the mounted officer.  The Amberite looks down at the wanderer, "What is your business in Amber?"  Thus begins the questioning...  What is your business?  Have you been to Amber before?  Have you ever been imprisoned in the city?  Do you have kin here?  Do you have a place to live during your visit?...

On and on the questions continue, every answer seeming to bring more questions.

"Well, the city itself seems in fair shape."  James sounds, and is, relieved.

"The last time I came to Amber was by land, so I don't know what customs or immigration checks they might have.  Once we've cleared those we'll head straight up to the palace.  Since I mean to announce myself there's no point looking for other lodgings in town."

"Yes," Aaron answers once. "No," Aaron responds again. Politely. Patiently. The guard was simply doing his job. Aaron didn't fault him for it.

But Aaron wondered how questioning every individual entering Amber could at all halt or hinder the enemy. Their talents for obfuscation were legendary. Their practice at penetrating other societies, well-earned.

So Aaron didn't fault the King's guidance in this, at least. It was a better idea than most in his position, and while Aaron didn't have any concrete proof of the fact, he was almost certain that there were other, far less-obvious methods of 'questioning' going on, even as the guard continued the veritable interrogation.

Aaron considered his grand-daughter, and the woman who he left her with. Fiona would, no doubt, be rather busy at this moment, yet Aaron had always considered Fiona to be something of a handful. No. If he had to meet Fiona, it would only be in the company of comrades or in the presence of what little family he had left.

The questions done, finally, Aaron could move on. He did so, with much more haste.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:57, Wed 24 Sept 2008.

"I expect that their checks will be rather more thorough, once I reveal my nature" Roman comments.  Adding with a grin "At least it may confuse and distract tha traitor."

Aaron's interrogation takes some time, which combined with the initial wait means that it is almost sunset as he enters the city, passing through the wall via a portal which looks to have been heavily (and recently) reinforced.  Plates of steel have been riveted to the oak gates, on both the inner and outer faces.  There are more guards here too, both Amberite troops and mercenary companies, by the looks of them.

Aaron finds himself in the streets of the city, and soon gets his bearings.  It almost feels as if he has never been away, so familiar are the streets. 

At the other end of the city, where the feet of Kolvir reach the ocean, the docks of Amber are busy.  Somehow though, Seahorse, navigating through the gathering dusk, seems to have an easy time finding a berth.  The ships docked nearby are not merchantmen though, most of them, in fact, appear to be warships, and all fly the colours of Amber.

The rail is pulled aside, and the gangplank run out, and a few minute's later, Seahorse's passengers have honest stone beneath their feet again, as they step on to the quayside.

Above them, and some distance off, the castle itself is visible.  Behind it, Kolvir stands outlined against a red sky whose colour has little to do with the sunset...

Strangely, though there are obvious guard posts on the docks, there are none in this particular area.

Seemingly oblivious to the banter around her, Tahirah continues to watch the smoke.  "The War is here," she says, her voice soft, yet somehow carrying.  "Rivers of blood flow; mountains of wood burn."  Her arms lift, seeming to frame a portion of the smoke in her view.  "The beastial ones press forward..."  Her left hand drops, "And the Guardian of the Wood falls back.  Hurting.  Failing."

Her raised right hand traces a design in the air before her, and she rises off the deck of the ship.  Pausing briefly, she pivots in the air, and bows lightly towards Captain Rovane.  "Thank you for your hospitality.  May the Seahorse weather every storm."

Roman nods, at Tahirah's words.  "Indeed, our thanks for providing transport here."  Turning to the others, "Does anyone wish to leave before I make myself known ?  The authorities may be absent from this dock, but I have no doubt that they will react, as soon as they notice."

Aaron knew that he had to go straight to the castle. He had considered stopping short of it, perhaps at one of the inns nearby, but thought better of it. They didn't have much time, and Aaron wanted to know the full extent of Amber's current status.

However, he did pause for a moment to take in the place. He had always felt somewhat disconnected from Amber, yet at this moment Aaron discovered that he could no longer push his heritage into the past and leave it done with. He was an Amberite, whether by some bastardization or otherwise. As he looked behind him, at the disgruntled, sad refugees slowly flooding into the gates, Aaron set his jaw and moved on. He could not deny these people their freedom, nor himself the honest truth. Amber was home.

This place was much, much more powerful than he had originally thought. If the enemy truly did wish to take this place, Aaron didn't really think that they would attempt a seige. Oh, they may attempt it as a feint whilie they struck out at the real heart of the matter, but even despite the Archon's numbers, the defenses of Amber could be truly formidable to someone who understood the depths of its power.

As he continued on, shifting his pack and sword more comfortably, Aaron wondered if there was anyone left who did.

The passengers make their way to the dock, most by walking, or in Tahirah's case, by simply floating ashore, through the otherwise empty air.

After a brief discussion, they start towards the castle.  Despite Roman's misgivings, they soon find themselves traversing the city's streets unmolested.  It seems that any guards on duty at the moment are all busy elsewhere.

With darkness falling, the ominous red glow in the sky above and beyond Kolvir is growing more obvious, drawing nervous glances from the citizens in the crowded streets.  James leads the way, his familiarity with the city clear, as he avoids the busier main thoroughfares, and travels via the quieter back streets and alleyways.

Eventually though, they reach the gates of the Castle itself, which stands closed, and there they are finally stopped by a patrol.  The officer looks at the group of wanderers as they approach and, with a gesture, sends a half dozen men to intercept them before they get too close.  He goes back to his conversation with the lone stranger who had arrived a few moments earlier.

"Quite the portent, Tahirah - not too hard to interpret but hardly favourable.  The mountain of wood burning will be Arden, which is the forest currently lending that scarlet tinge to the sunset.  And the guardian of the wood is Prince Julian of Amber."  James comments as the group makes its way through the streets of the city. And if he is failing, then real trouble is very close at hand.

As they approach the gates of the Castle, James spots the guards sent to intercept them.  "Just stay calm and let me...Oh, damn, that's Aaron."

James had mixed feelings about Aaron, although meeting here in Amber couldn't help but remind James that the man was his cousin - somehow.  He respected Aaron's power and strength of purpose, but James was no longer entirely convinced that Aaron's purpose was the same as his.  He could be a valuable ally, or a severe hindrance, or just a convenient distraction.  Right now, it was impossible to tell which.

 

Banglen-Yp remains on the ship for an instant longer, having been busy playing catch with her little furry friend.  She quickly gathers him as the others leave and then stops at the captain, thanking her for an interesting journey as well as the food - both the one she ate in her human shape and the one the two cats ate.

Then she is off after the others, waving in parting.  A few moments later she catches up with the others, seemingly with boundless cheer and energy, more skipping along than walking.

 

Roman tries not to be too obvious at playing tourist.  But the city is most impressive, allowing for the stable nature of its environment.  It's beauty is quieter and tamer than the great sights of his homeland.  WIll the guards pose a problem ?  Too early to say, but so far someone seems determined to keep the group free of the entanglements of officialdom.

Aaron was trying his best to be patient, for patience was a thing that was new to him and had become swift and hard to learn. It seemed the guards could sense that, but it didn't do him any good to belabor his points.

"Look, my Granddaughter is..."

Then he paused and turned, as the attentions of the guards were taken by something other than himself. He narrowed his dark eyes, taking in the approaching group with interest... and recollection.

He knew these people, but did not know them. No names, no things that hinted that he recognized their personalities or understood their goals. Nothing like he used to identify Jack or Cyan or Berd. This group... Aaron had been with them, yet he had not been of them. They were fighting the same war together... but Aaron was hardly a reliable individual when it came to being a member of a party. Perhaps he could change that, now.

"I believe," he said to the guards after a moment, "that these people will explain the situation quite deftly. I'm... ah... with them."

Then he retreated to the side, to let the new arrivals make their case. One thing rolled around in his head, however, and he couldn't help but be amused by it. "All Roads Lead..."

The guard officer glances away for a moment, as Aaron claims to be with the approaching group.  His eyes narrow as he regards the newcomers, now detained at a distance by half of his men.

Then he grins, and calls out, "You men, let them pass.  James!  When did you get back?  If you're here to collect that half-crown I owe you, I'm afraid it's long since spent."

"Hello Kallum, good to see you.  I just got back.  As for the half-crown; I suppose that's what I get for being so long away."  James walks past the other guards, giving them a smile as he passes to show there's no harm or ill-feeling.  He shakes the guard's hand warmly.

"Allow me to introduce to you Tahirah, Roman and Banglen-Yp.  They're with me."  James indicates each of his companions in turn as he introduces them.  "As, I suppose, is the man you have there with you, whose name is Aaron.  Although I suspect he has his own right and reasons for being here."  James gives Aaron a short half-bow.  He's never really cleared up whether Aaron is an accepted member of the family and it seemed best to let Aaron speak for himself in that regard.

"So tell me, Kallum, what's the news?  I saw the smoke as we came in so it can hardly be good.  And who have you offended to find yourself on guard duty?"

 

As James indicates her, Banglen-Yp smiles brightly and waves at the guard and then at Aaron as well.

• Hello •

A cheerful statement aimed at the new peopel in general.

 

Tahirah turns slightly as she hovers, towards the smoke and the reddish glow on the horizon.  It seems to be weighing heavily on her mind.  Hearing James ask the guard what is happening, though, she pauses, and waits to hear the answer.

Roman remains silent.  Revealing his nature here would only distract the guard.  And he, too, wishes to know just what is happening and what form the attack on Amber is taking.  The Archons themselves, or more of their pawns ?

Kallum nods at everybody as they are named, then, "It's not a matter of offending anybody, James.  It's more a matter of them wanting the best where they could do the most good."  The accompanying grin suggests that the answer is not altogether serious.

He inclines his head towards the mountain, "I'm not altogether sure what's going on over there.  I heard yesterday morning that a man had come here, out of Arden, riding a giant cat, and carrying a letter from Julian.  He was allowed into the Castle, and spoke to the King.  Then he left, back to the Forest."

"Within the hour, half the army was being sent to guard the roads out of Arden.  They kept a few behind to defend the city gates, and the Castle, but most are on the roads."

He pauses, turning back to James, "They pulled the troops away from the docks, and just left the militia down there.  Even pulled the marines off the ships, which I heard Gerard wasn't too pleased about."

"Doesn't look like it did much good though." Kallum shakes his head, "By last night we were seeing the first smoke."

"Between you, me, half the Castle, I've heard that things are getting desparate.  Latest rumour has it that Random has contacted the Courts, calling in some sort of agreement from the end of the last war.  I heard he's also calling in reinforcements from the Circle, but a lot of them are worried that if they send troops, they'll be attacked while their army is over here."

"I believe one or two of us must go to Arden," Aaron spoke up from his point by the entrance. "After we convene with the Elders and consider their plans. I would volunteer, but I must confirm the safety of my granddaughter, or at least her current whereabouts, before I take the next step."

He looked to Kallum. "Has there been any other news out of Arden after Julian's last courier?"

He thought not, but felt it was worth asking anyway. Kallum seemed like a knowledgable sort, and probably would've told them outright if there had been... but asking never hurt. Well, not usually.

Aaron had other plans, as well. He had to confirm that the Pattern here was well guarded. More importantly, he had to confirm with Fiona that the Pattern here in Amber was the only one the Archons may attempt to penetrate. He had discovered examples and reflections out in Shadow that gave him great cause to speculate.

This fact, coupled with Aaron having walked through the streets of the Great City once more, birthed a dread feeling that there was more to this invasion than meets the eye.

"Ah, so Morgan did beat us here...  The man on the giant cat," James adds by way of explanation.

"Well, I'll confess that I'd hoped that the enemy might still be further away, but we haven't reached the end of our road yet, not by a long shot."

"I'll be lodging at the Castle, assuming there's room, but I'll meet you down at the mess hall at shift's end if you're free.  I'd like to hear more of what's been happening here since I left.  Do you know if Bleys is about?  I should let him know I've returned."

James would like to know the latest news from Arden no less than Aaron, but he's also aware that their mission must take priority.  A traitor hiding amongst some of the most canny, suspicious and downright bloody-minded people in all the Worlds and they had half a lead and maybe two or three days.  Just a small thing.

Tahirah turns away, and drifts up a little bit from the ground, looking still towards the rising smoke.  "Others do well to think of their own defenses," she says.  "The Archons are not here; they will strike where they see a weakening.  Much of the fire has been set by the defenders; they are falling, and grow desperate."  Swiveling to face Aaron, she gives a small nod.  "I will keep watching, for now," she offers.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:29, Mon 20 Oct 2008.

Kallum spares Aaron a few words, "There have been messengers coming and going constantly, and a few of them might've come out of Arden, but I haven't heard anything.  I heard they've mostly been using the Forest Gate, but the few who came in this way didn't stop long enough to do more than give the passwords, and then dash inside.  They seem to be in as much of a hurry to leave too."

His attention goes back to James then, "Most of the Family are here.  Corwin and Benedict are out in the Circle somewhere, and Julian's over in the forest, but the rest were here, last I knew.  Gerard came in a couple of hours ago, in a foul mood, and he was the last of them, save for the three I mentioned."

"Word is that he had a blazing argument with Random about what would happen if the enemy has a navy too, now that the marines have been pulled off the ships and sent over the mountain."

The man's face grows more worried, as he adds, "I'll meet you for dinner, James, as long as things don't take a turn for the worse, but it won't be in the mess hall.  Orders came earlier, there's a temporary mess been set up in the main gardens, near the East Gate."

"A nice trap" Roman comments.  "Tahirah tells us that the attack on Arden appears to be merely a diversion.  Yet it is strong enough to pose a threat in itself."  He turns to James "We should make haste to your castle. If rumour speaks true - and can be confirmed, I may be able to reconsider my position..."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised, Roman.  Random's no fool and more than one family member has ties to the Courts."

"I'll meet you in the gardens then, Kallum.  See you later."

"Come on then, everyone, let's go.  Try and keep an eye out for one of the senior staff.  We'll get our accommodation sorted out first and go from there."

James leads the others past the guards and on towards the castle proper.  Ideally he'd like to speak to a butler, but he's not sure who will be working, so he'll start with one of the doormen.

Aaron nodded to Kallum then, not merely for the information, but for solving the problem of potentially seperating this motley band. Despite the wisdom of Tahirah staying behind to keep an eye out, Aaron figured everyone needed to be present when they eventually met with the Elders.

He kept an open mind as they strode into the Castle-proper. He had been long away from Amber and was curious as to its sensations, its feelings and reverberations when compared to his own.

The gate opens, giving access to a small courtyard, surrounded by high walls and higher turrets.  The walls themselves are of large dressed stone blocks, fitted tightly so as to afford nothing in the way of purchase for anybody attempting to climb them.  There are more guards atop the walls.

There is a short flight of stairs ahead, climbing to a double gate, massive, and bound with alternating bands of iron and brass.  On each of the paired gates is set a plaque, in silver, bearing a life-sized representation of a rearing unicorn.  The right-hand gate has a small observation window set into it.

As the group climb the stairs, there is a muffled boom from the gates, and one of them starts to swing outwards, revealing that a great hall lays beyond, lit by oil lamps and with the walls lined with tapestries and paintings.  A long gallery runs along each wall, high above the floor.  The floor itself is bare stone.  The ceiling is high and vaulted, ornately carved.

There are servants moving about the hall, upon various errands, and more guards, including those who had opened the gate.  One of the servants approaches the group as they enter.  He nods in recognition to James, then quickly scans the other faces.  Not recognising any of them, he turns his attention back to the one he does recognise.

"Will you, and your guests, be requiring rooms, Sir."

Behind them, the door closes, and a heavy iron bar slides home with a sound like the roar of thunder.

Tahirah steps up beside James, and addresses him directly.  "As nice as a room would be, what I would like now is access to a tower to watch the forest," she requests.

James nods his acknowledgement of Tahirah's request before addressing the servant.  "Yes, we will be needing rooms.  Also, I will need a guide to show my friend to a tower or other position with a good view over Arden.  And if you would enquire for me as to the current whereabouts of Prince Bleys?"

Calling his uncle 'Prince' had never sat well with James but he knew that many of the family members insisted on maintaining a certain amount of formality when dealign with the Castle servants.

Roman dislikes the sound of the bar, but these are troubled times.  Best to let James deal wit the servants here, until the welcome is more certain.

"I believe that Prince Bleys, along with other members of the Family and various representatives of the Circle Lands, is currently meeting with the King, Sir." the servant replies, then looks around, apparently looking for a particular face.  He raises his hand and beckons that person over, before speaking to them quietly.

The second person, a female servant, nods her understanding, and the man turns back to address Tahirah, "If you will follow Sarah, Miss, she will take you to a suitable vantage point."

The girl gives a small bow to Tahirah, and says, "This way, Miss."  A gesture indicates which direction Tahirah should move in.

The original servant continues speaking, "If you wish, Sir, I can arrange to have you taken to wait for the Prince, while rooms are made ready?"

"Thanks, that's a good idea.  Roman. Banglen-Yp.  Best if you come with me.  I'll see you later Tahirah.  You can send a runner to fetch us if there's anything for us to see."

James waits for the servant to lead the way to the King's audience chamber, or whichever room currently serves the purpose.

 

Quite occupied with taking in all the grand grandeur Banglen-Yp almost misses what is going on, but the little kitten brings her back to here and now as James asks her to tag along.

She smiles brightly again and nods, moving a little bit closer to James as if to show that she indeed intend to follow.  Then she waves at lady in white, using her fingers and a see-you-soon kind of smile.

 

Tahirah gives one of her small bows to James, and then another to Banglen-Yp.  "My thanks, Sarah," she offers, and prepares to follow her...almost anywhere.

Roman quietly says "Excuse me a moment." to the others and moves off to intercept one of the other people in the hall, drawing the man aside for a more-or-less private word.

Unlike some of the others, Aaron takes in little of the decorative facets of the Castle, preferring instead to note the placement of guards, as well as attempting to get a good sense of the palace's current state. Amber was more than it seemed, and the castle was no exception.

Though he would have preferred to avoid waiting for Bleys, Aaron decided that patience would be best served at that moment. He had two very important things in mind for his near future, keeping both of them in store for when the time was right. He chose to follow James and the others, keeping quiet and relatively towards the background.

The man looks at Roman blankly, for a moment, and then recognition seems to dawn on him. 

Tahirah heads away, with the servant, passing through a narrow doorway off to the left, and out of sight. 

James and the rest start to follow the male servant, who soon stops to speak to another man.  That one hurries to stand close to Roman, ready to guide him when he has finished his conversation.

Then the group are off again, walking along the hall towards the great doors at the far end.  But they turn aside, going through a smaller one, to the right.  The chamber they find themselves in is much smaller, with a lower ceiling, and thickly carpeted floor.  It is also furnished with leather-upholstered chairs, and a couple of desks, the wood polished until it almost seems to glow.

They move on through these more private areas of the castle for some time, passing libraries, studies, dining rooms, all furnished opulently, using materials gleaned from all of Shadow.

Finally they reach a waiting room, with chairs covered with a dark green velvet, where another person sits in one corner, reading a book, her head bowed over the pages.  Their guide indicates a set of doors at the far end of the waiting room, "The Family are in there, Sirs and Madame, and should be out soon, assuming they decide to break for refreshments."

There is a thump as the young woman stands and her book drops to the floor.  She rushes forward, throwing her arms around Aaron, "Grandpa Aaron!"

"God be good, girl, it's good to see you..." Aaron barely managed as he embraced his granddaughter. "Let me get a look at you, Chris."

He pulled back, looking Chrissie over for the first time, really taking her in beyond the obvious trappings of relation. Still young, still afire... but there was a hardness behind her eyes, now. She saw things differently than before.

Aaron drew Chrissie back to her seat, dropping into it beside her.

"Please tell me, how has your stay in Amber been? What have you learned?"

Roman nods, understanding.

The conversation continues.

"I've learned a heap of stuff.  Mostly that trying to put anything over Fiona is the dumbest idea in the whole history of dumb ideas."  Chrissie looks at the people with Aaron, then back to her ancestor.  She opens her mouth to speak, closes it, and starts again, "You sent me into a war zone, you know, for safe keeping.  That's a bad move, even by your standard.  Like, really, it's Number 2 in the Dumb Ideas Top 10."

She nods towards the door, where the family are, apparently discussing the current situation, "I know that they're talking about me in there.  At least, that's some of it.  They're going to send me away, but they haven't told me about it yet.  I heard it from the girl who brought me my breakfast this morning."

 

As the girl looks at her, Banglen-Yp waves a hand and smiles in a friendly fashion, wondering about both the girl, Aaron and this place.  Such strange, curious things, almost as curious as some of the events and places The Screen had shown her what felt like a lifetime ago yesterday.

 

Roman makes his entrance a  few minutes after the others, a troubled look on his face.

Aaron snorted, reaching up to scratch his head. He at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Yeah, well, I wasn't the type of person to think things through..."

Then he sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes as he thought it all over.

"I have to admit, though. At the time, Amber didn't seem like a warzone when I left you here. Compared to the places I had been to, not to mention the places I've seen since, Amber was, and in some ways still is, the safest place I can think of."

Aaron nodded. "However, I agree with their plan, at least initially. I personally believe that we should begin evacuating quite a number of people from Amber, yourself included. Our enemies are... extremely cunning."

Or we're merely predictable... Aaron set his jaw, attempting in vain to not grind his teeth as he measured what he knew of the Archons.

"They will enslave or erase all that I hold dear," he said quietly, placing a hand on that of his Chrissie's own. "I will do whatever is required to make sure those things are safe."

Aaron looked to her then, his eyebrows rising slightly. "What do you wish to do with yourself, Chrissie? Despite the current times, there are a million places you could be other than here. I believe the Elders would at least try to consider your opinion in regards to your own safety."

Then again, Aaron considered of himself. I went ahead and dropped her on their doorstep, just before taking off like a tramp, with barely a 'how do you do' or a 'feed her three times a day.' Not the wisest or most responsible thing I've ever done... they might just drop her off somewhere random just to get rid of her. The ill-timed arrival of the bastard grand-daughter of a bastard family member. Yet Aaron had to admit, it was better than leaving Chrissie to make her own way in that barely-living world that was once San Anyn.

James takes in the basic features of the waiting room at a glance.  Until, that is, it's occupant greets Aaron as "Grandpa".  That warrants considerably closer scrutiny.  Still it seems like a rather personal moment so James deliberately takes a seat on the far side of the room and turns his thoughts to other things, rehearsing mentally what he plans to say to the assembled Family.  He suspects it is a futile task as he has little hope of keeping control of the coversation.

He looks up when Roman enters, "What's wrong, Roman?  You look worried."

"The Seraphim are at work from one Pole of Reality to the other. " Roman grimly answers James.  "The Courts themselves are not yet attacked, yet worlds not far from them are...gone.  If the attack here fails, where will they strike next ? "

Tahirah stands for a moment, and then turns back to Sarah and gives her small bow.  "My thanks."  Then she settles down by the battlements, looking out towards the forest, and draws out her box of cards.

Chrissie shakes her head, frowning, "I'm not sure that evacuating the city is a good idea.  This is supposed to be the safest place in the world, and... " a pause, as she gropes for words, and then, "There was this thing that they taught me back in my old school, at home.  How did it go again?"

"Ah, yeah, right...  'Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.'"

She shrugs, a look of hopelessness spreading across her features, "I think this is the same.  It feels like, if this place goes, then nowhere else can be safe either.  The centre falls, and the destruction spreads everywhere."

 

•• The blood-dimmed tide is loosed • and everywhere &bull

• the ceremony of innocence is drowned •

• The best lack all conviction • while the worst •

• are full of passionate intensity ••


The blonde suddenly goes into a dramatic and not too shabby recounting of the prose, acting out the emotions with passion.


At least until she notices someone looking at her, at which point she fires of a bright smile and giggles a bit.


•• Yeats ••


A single word, a single syllable, nothing else and then she falls silent again.

 

James grimaces at Roman's news, "Hardly surprising, but it's still unpleasant to hear it confirmed.  Random can't expect much help from the Courts then."

To Chrissie and Banglen-Yp he remarks, "More echoes.  I could have sworn I've heard a similar verse and but it's been a long time since my high school lessons in poetry and literature."

And at that point, the door opens...

Two women walk out.  One short, with long red hair and green eyes.  The other a little taller, blonde with blue eyes.  Their clothes seem expensive, but emminently practical - more suited to riding in the forest than to political discussions in a warm parlour.  The red-head even wears a quilted leather vest and has a pair of clasped in her left hand.

The two of them seem to be arguing heatedly about something. though their voices are pitched low...

"I told you all that this would happen." the red-haired woman snaps at her companion.

"But you had no evidence when... "

"I showed all of you the reports from my agents!"

"Yes, but... "

"And those reports have now been proven to be correct."

"I... "  The blonde sees at the group of people already waiting outside the room, and bites off the reply she had been about to make.  "It looks as if we have guests."

Behind the two women, more people are exiting the room - several men, and a third woman, this one with a definite greenish tint to her hair and her pale skin.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. This was getting complicated.

"What I mean is..." he began, but stopped as the doors to the meeting hall opened and the individuals within spilled out. Aaron shut his mouth and braced himself. He wondered if he'd be able to get a word in to Fiona about his particular requests... but at the moment he decided to let them wait, more curious about the outcome of the prior meeting than his own concerns, no matter how pressing.

Roman just stands and looks at those that have exited.  They look remarkably harmless, but of course appearances mean nothing.  Maybe they intend to look harmless, in the hope of being underestimated.  Never forget that the Amberites are masters of betrayal and treachery.

Tahirah reflects on the scene before her...

"Quite so, Aunt Flora.  I would wish that I'm not interrupting anything important, but in the current circumstances that seems practically inevitable.  Allow me to introduce my colleagues.  Some of you will have met Aaron before, but I don't think you will know Roman, Tahirah and Banglen-Yp."

"And in return I give you Fiona, Flora..." James continues introducing the other members of the family who are present.  "Princes and Princesses all, of course.  Unless Random is here somewhere?"

"I would like the chance to give a formal report as soon as possible but you look like you could use a least a short break from meetings?"

There is a degree of movement among the royal family, and a man pushes his way forward to stand before James.  He has straw-coloured hair, and is dressed in reds, browns and oranges.  In his right hand he carries a bundle  - something about three feet long, thin, and wrapped in canvas.

"I'm here.  Pretty much have to be." he says, with a lopsided smile.

"We've had two reports already, in the last few days.  One from a man who called himself Morgan.  He said that he's known to you, and he warned us of the coming attack.  Lucky he did, because we were able to reinforce the defences out in Arden."

Random pauses then, before adding, "The other was from a strange creature, some sort of reptile man, covered with spines, horns and blades.  He said he knew you too, and that he was in service to an agent of Caine's... "

"Jonnee Kay." another one of the royals interrupts, from where he sits in an overstuffed chair, with his feet up on a small table.  A slim man with dark hair and eyes, and a neatly trimmed goatee.  This one is clad all in green and black.

"Yes... well, the creature told us that reinforcements are on the way here, and gave us this as a token of good faith."  The king of Amber unwraps the canvas from one end of the bundle, to reveal a short staff, tipped with crystal.  "He said that it's a weapon."

He sgrugs, and rewraps the weapon, "I'd be glad to hear your own report, as soon as you're ready.  Refreshments should be available soon."

"Tahirah?"  James looks around.  "Of course, foolish of me, she went to the walls."

"Your Majesty."  James acknowledges Random's presence with a short bow.  Not so shallow as to be disrespectful, but not overdoing it either.

"It is a weapon.  Think of it as a gun that fires an energy beam.  I'm not entirely sure how it works so you might want to be careful where you point the crystal.  Jonnee Kay's Brintizzi, when armed with these, are some of the most lethal troops I've ever seen, up close or at range.  They'll be very welcome reinforcements."

"If you've heard from Morgan and from Jonnee already, there won't be a lot that I can add about the coming battle, but I'd be happy to try and answer any questions.  And there's something else we need to discuss."

I shouldn't have let Tahirah go. James thinks to himself, I'd kill to know what reading she'd get from some of this lot.

 

Royalties?

No silly little minute doggies and few sparkly stones.

Plenty of attitude, though.

As she was introduced she grinned prettily and waved vigorously, striking a pleasing pose that showed off her best side(s).

When opportunity gives itself she interjects a word.

•• Hiii ••

It is drawn out a bit and said with her best attractive voice and closely followed by a few round of batted eyelashes.

First impressions and all.

One of them shows what looks like a lavish magic wand, which to Banglen-Yp makes perfect sense to be a weapon.  Plenty of power in those little sticks, the Screen has taught her.

 

PM

Random considers James' words, and looks around the room, before announcing, "Okay.  We need to get back into this straight away, by the sound of it."  Then, amid groans and grumbling from his relatives, many of whom had been regarding Banglen-Yp with some apparent confusion, he beckons James and the others to follow, and heads back into the meeting room.

Chrissie seizes the opportunity and follows them in, close behind Aaron, head down in the hopes that nobody will notice.

The room looks similar to the antechamber they had been waiting in.  A little larger, and a touch more formal perhaps, with slightly less comfortable furnishings, but beyond that there is little difference.

Soon everybody is seated, except a large bull-like man, bearded and clad in blue and grey, who stands, leaning, with his back against the door, arms folded.  That one is scowling at Random.  Everybody else just looks annoyed in general, though the red-haired woman, Fiona, does give Chrissie a hard look.

Random sighs, then clears his throat, "We have more news.  These are some of the agents we sent out some time ago, and they've come to deliver their report.  So lets hear them out before we go any further."

"James has already confirmed the other news we've had, about the invasion - though we can see that's already started - and about the reinforcements."

He pauses, to gather his thoughts, then asks, "I have a couple of questions for you.  First, can you tell us if there are any other reinforcements coming, beyond the ones we know of already?  Second, we've been having problems with the Trumps of late, such that we've had to stop using them, which makes it difficult to marshal our troops.  Do you know if this is a deliberate ploy on the part of the enemy, or is it totally unrelated?"

James remains standing.  He is aware of the assembled power represented by those in the room and of the fact that he will only get once clear chance to tell the Family about the traitor.  In his nervousness, old habits come to the fore and James finds it easier to remain at attention while delivering his report.

Before he begins speaking James has time for a brief twinge of regret.  This is not how he had imagined his family reunion when he first began his search for his parents.

"Against an army of Archons, I can't think of too many allies other than the Brintizzi that would stand a chance.  Unless there is some property of the primary Pattern that affects their abilities, they can fly, change shape, are incredibly resilient, many will have back-up clones available, they move unbelievably fast and are all unquestionably lethal."  James ticks the bleak list off on his fingers.

"No, the best reinforcements against Archons are other Archons.  There are several factions amongst them and many of the aggressors amongst them harbor great personal ambition.  Our best chance of avoiding destruction is to fracture the consensus that binds them to their current purpose.  The best way to do that would be to kill Harbonah, the Archon that leads them, but there may be other ways."

"I'm no expert on Trumps, but I've spent time with a few people who know them better than most.  Their theory is that the Trumps draw power from the Underflow.  I don't really understand the Underflow, but the best way I can describe it is as a vast conduit of energy that underlies all the Myriad Worlds.  It's also the way that the Archons move between worlds.  So my guess is that the effect is not a deliberate ploy, but unconscious interference: Like trying to use a phone next to a busy highway."

Roman is not exactly pleased to be counted among the agents of Amber.  On the other hand listening in on this meeting is likely to be worth a little discomfort.  So, he remains quiet, observing.

Ooh - there's that red Jack I've been looking for!

Random  sighs, "So even when they aren't attacking, we're being affected by their actions?  That's... annoying."

"You have all been dealing with these things.  Do any of you have any suggestions that could slow them down until reinforcements arrive?"

He thinks for a moment, then adds, "Or do you know where we can find this Harbonah?  Perhaps we can send some of Jonnee Kay's troops, to kill him... it, and throw them into disarray."

The red haired woman suddenly speaks up as Random finishes, "Just because their actions affect us as a sort of side effect, that doesn't automatically mean that it isn't an attack.  It's entirely possible that they are aware that what they are doing has an indirect disruptive effect, and so make a deliberate effort to maximise it."

"It's what I'd do."

PM

"It's what I'd do, too.  And you may well be right, Fiona, but I don't think it makes much practical difference.  Whether they are doing it deliberately or not, they are disrupting your communications.  I still think it's largely accidental.  The aggressive faction amongst the Archons, known as Seraphim, seem to be creatures of raw power.  I haven't seen them resort to subtlety, mostly because they don't need to."

Having done his best to answer Fiona's concerns, James returns to Random's questions.

"I would love to assassinate Harbonah.  But so would half his underlings.  I think some of my colleagues can locate him and, with a concerted effort, we might succeed in killing him.  But make no mistake, it would be a suicide mission for all concerned.  And even if we killed him, there is every likelihood that one of his clones would activate.  There might be some confusion but it would be brief."

"I believe there are other targets that would be easier to strike and still be important enough to draw forces away from Amber.  Consider: as best we understand it the Seraphim's purpose is to siphon off the energy of worlds until they can be broken and re-shaped.  They intend to set up a chain of these worlds stretching from the Courts to here and in so doing open a rift in the universe, reality or however you want to think about it.  Either the siphoned energy or the rift would then be used to re-shape all the worlds into a reflection of the Archons home, which is something akin to a gas giant crossed with the inside of a volcano.  As a group we have stopped, re-directed or posioned a number of these siphons.  But there are entire factory worlds producing these things and there are too many to stop individually.  On the other hand, if we could identify key links in the chain we could create maximum disruption for minimal effort."

"The other tool the Archons have is an entity known as Broken God.  It appears to have been a being of immense power that has been scattered through the worlds.  We found an arm here, a flayed face elsewhere.  Even a few drops of Broken God's blood is enough to completely block Pattern use and other powers in its immediate vicinity.  What it might do to the Primal Pattern I've no idea.  Any piece of Broken God is a worthwhile target."

"But, in all honesty, I'd say that any of those actions would merely delay the inevitable.  My best suggestion at this point is to open a line of communication.  Your method of communication is linked to theirs.  Broadcast an invitation to negotiate.  Set up a dropbox so that responses can be delivered discreetly and without the dangers of direct contact.  Talk to the Archons who will talk to you.  We must break up Harbonah's coalition or, frankly, we're in a whole lot of trouble."

"Perhaps that's the best answer, for now." Random muses, "Try to recruit allies  among these Archons, and hope that we can be persuaded to help us.  And that they don't betray us afterwards."

"At least it might buy us a little time, by distracting a few of them from their attacks."

He leans forward in his chair, looking around the room, "What about the rest of you?" he indicates Roman, Banglen-Yp and Aaron, "I'd be interested in hearing your views on this.  Any ideas you might have on how to deal with them."

 

                                A question.

                                                                Aimed at her.

                It even sounded sincere.


The blonde fired of her very best smile and took a bowing curtsey of some description or other.

Next she cleared her throat, daintily covering her mouth with the back of her hand.


•• Proposed strategy sounds sufficient • although I have to insist on declaring my vast ignorance of most things • after all I am still quite young despite my age • apparent and otherwise ••

A humble statement followed by a brief pause and a finger tapping the lips while the other fingers and the thumb gently held the chin.


•• It will come back • as have much else since when I first returned from the previous existence ••

•• Friend and allies are never to be underestimated • though I am still searching for mine • admittedly hoping I might come across them •• You have not seen them • have you ••


She finished with a question and another curtsying bow, the smile also returning.

 

Roman looks around at Aaron.  Obviously the man doesn't intend to answer.  Slightly nervously, he clears his throat and offers his own thoughts.

"Strategically, I can only add that the Archons seem to place a great weight on personal reputation.  Any battle lost by Harbonah's forces weakens his position as leader."

"With regard to the coming battle.  The force attacking Arden is not said to include Archons and we must assume that it is considered to be expendable.  If you feel the need to reinforce the defenders, you should beware of weakening defences elsewhere against an Archon attack - or an attack by some other force under Archon control."

"It has been suggested that the Archons might use the 'Broken God' fragments against your Pattern.  The Brintizzi are equipped with weapons that counter the 'Broken God' and some should be stationed there to guard it."

"Ordinary human troops armed with steel handweapons seem of little use against the Archons.  If you can find troops with weapons or forms that stand a better chance against them, you should do so.  It is likely that the main attack will be lead by Archons."

PM

Random nods uncertainly, after Banglen-Yp's... advice.  Fiona studies the blonde woman, her expression growing increasingly concerned.  By the time Roman finishes his own analysis of the situation, the red-haired princess of Amber is frowning, with her eyes locked on  Banglen-Yp, who seems oblivious to the attention she is receiving.

Random stands, and starts to pace back and forth, silently at first, his head bowed.  Then he looks up, "When Jonnee Kay arrives with his allies, we'll hold some of them back, as you suggest.  Thank you."

"If this is not their main force, then it is possible that their purpose is to serve as a distraction, drawing our focus away from something else.  Probably the Pattern.  If this Broken God can damage the Pattern, then it would make sense for them to get to it.  If this Brintizzi weapon can counter it, then I'll put some of the Brintizzi in the Pattern chamber, ready to deal with it."

"You!" Fiona suddenly snaps angrily, pointing at Banglen-Yp, "What are you doing?"  She stands up, and starts towards the doors, "Come with me."

 

•• Mostly listening ••

Banglen-Yp replied cheerfully to the query as to what she was doing


The Screen had taught her that Royalty was allowed to be strange, whether it meant felicitous, lamentable or throwing tantrums like the lady with red hair.


•• All rightie then ••

Another nearly shamefully cheerful statement as the strange blonde moved out to follow the lady.

 

James remains standing at attention, looking slightly puzzled.  Not at Roman's advice, which makes good sense, but at Banglen-Yp's comments.  James was aware that she still felt out of place, but he had hoped she might see the rest of the group as allies, if not as friends.

James is startled by Fiona's demand, more so, it seems than Banglen-Yp, who is as disconcertingly literal as ever.

"I know Banglen-Yp's a little unusal, but surely there's no reason to get upset Fiona?"

"That remains to be seen." is Fiona's only reply, as she opens the door, and gestures for Banglen-Yp to step out of the room...

 

Banglen-Yp walked through the door cheerfully.

 

Speaking up might be risky...but someone needs to point it out to the arrogant Amberites.

"Whatever else Banglen-Yp might be, she is an ally, and one capable of fighting Archons.  That's not something you should take lightly in this situation."

"Whatever she is, believe me, I am taking it anything but lightly." Fiona responds to Roman, as she turns to follow the blonde out the door.

Random scratches his head as the door closes behind the two women.  "I'm sure that, if there's a problem, of some sort, it will all be sorted out soon enough." he explains, "Fiona's usually pretty quick when it comes to getting to the bottom of things."

Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "What do you know about your friend?"

PM

PL

"Not much,"  James admits with a shrug "She appears to be a relatively young creature.  She is still learning, if her command of language is anything to go by, and she is searching for, or perhaps developing, her own sense of identity."

'Appears' may be a poor choice of words.  She is an accomplished shapeshifter, although not of the Courts as far as we know."

I have been told that she has an unusual, perhaps unique, psyche.  She cannot be examined or influenced.  I understand that she doesn't even register such things, not so much a blank canvas as a non-entity.  I suspect that is what is upsetting Fiona."

She has been a loyal companion for some time know and has fought with us against the Archons.  Her mind may hide it's secrets well, but her manner, as you have seen, is entirely open: direct, honest and naive.  I trust her."

Roman nods.  "James has it right.  If I had to guess I might think her one of the greater demons, newly spawned in the Great Abyss.  Such are very difficulty to bind, and often resentful of the attempt.  "

Random gives Roman a startled glance, "How likely would you say that possibility is?  I'm not sure that I'd be keen on the idea of a free willed, and uncontrollable, demon wandering about the place, even in better times."

"If Fiona thinks there is something a little... off... about her, then yes, that would worry her.  Normally though she doesn't get quite as rattled as she appears to be right now.  Whatever she's seeing as wrong with your friend would seem to be serious.  In Fiona's eyes at least."

"If she... "  The King stops speaking as the door opens, just enough to admit Tahirah, then closes behind her.  "This, I take it, is the other member of your group?"

Tahirah steps through the door, and then gives a deep bow towards the young-looking man speaking.  "Yes," she replies.  "I must be Tahirah."  There's a certain weight to it, as though she's considering how much simpler her life might have been were she, say, Cindy, or even Tiffany.

Roman shrugs.  "I grant that my guess is based nothing more than knowing of nothing else that she could be.  However, if I were in need of powerful allies I would be glad of the presence of a friendly demon.  I would suggest taking a pragmatic view - in your situation you are likely better off with her here than without her.  Demon or not."

( Global Conspiracy in progress, nothing to see here. )

"Someone that Fiona can't easily read?  Yes, I would imagine she would find that very serious."

"Yes, you must."  James musings on the peculiar patterns of speech adopted by some of his friends is cut short by the grateful revelation that at least they all seem to speak the same language.  "Did you see anything interesting from the walls, Tahirah."

Tahirah folds her hands into her sleeves, and nods.  "I do not know what is already known," she says.  "So I will simply tell what I have learned.  The attack is not a mere distraction.  I...am not sure the Archons think that way. But the Archons are, as we hoped, busy elsewhere, perhaps engaged with the other faction.  Since the Fall of Charyk," her tone capitalizes it firmly, but perhaps she can be forgiven for giving that one extra weight, "Their activity has been curtailed.  It may offer hope, but so far as I can determine, while some have held longer than others, no assault yet begun by the Archons has ended in anything but the fall of their target, whether they have participated personally or not."

"This," her arms separate, and she waves a hand vaguely, "Is not the target.  They strike for something beyond the castle, buried within the mountain above.  As matters stand, they will, eventually, reach it."  She pivots slightly, turning from facing James most directly to be more towards Random...although with her hood hanging perhaps even a little lower than usual, `facing' might be a strong word for it.  "If you have a map, I can indicate where they are pressing, and where many of their commanders are within them, if this would be helpful."

Random nods thoughtfully at Roman's defence of Banglen-Yp, "Agreed.  We need to set differences aside at this time.  Fiona might question your friend, but she's unlikely to do her any harm without at least consulting me first."

"And I'll not permit that." 

The king leans back in his chair, but sits up straight again at Tahirah's words, and the other family members present in the room give voice to their dismay.

"The Pattern itself is buried deep beneath Kolvir.  That could be their aim... to bypass the city's defences and strike at the heart of Amber."

The green clad man who had previously spoken of Jonnee Kay shakes his head, "We don't know that for certain though.  There are other things on the mountain that might be of interest to them.  Tir, for example, has a Pattern of its own.  That could be the target.  Or even the Grove."

"I can get you a map.  Any information would be useful, as proven by the fact that we seem to have been trying to defend the wrong place."

Another of the princes, this one massively built, with short dark hair and a fringe beard, slams his palm down on the table, cracking the wood, and growls, "I told you not to send Benedict on a damned diplomatic mission!"

"The Kolvir Pattern is the most likely target.  Isn't Tir a kind of first reflection of the Pattern?"  James gives a slight, dismissive shake of the head.  "The Archons will want the first, true Pattern."

"I suspect Benedict may be closer than you think, Gerard.  From what we saw, he has been in Cadiniagart recently."  James wonders briefly whether he is giving away too much but he empathises with his uncle's frustration and some reassurance, cryptic though it is, may still help.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Wed 04 Feb 2009.

Tahirah once more comes out with information from...somewhere.  Still it will be the Amberite's decision whether to trust it or not.   But still there are further questions to be asked.  "If there are no Archons present, it becomes important to know why the enemy fights.  Perhaps the Seraphim intent can be thwarted without battle."

Random nods at James' comment, and scowls at his brother, "I've already been in contact with Benedict today, Gerard.  He's currently headed into Arden to assess the situation."

"If we get a map, we can try to make a better guess at what their objective is.

The king points at Chrissie, Aaron's granddaughter, "I've seen you poking about in the libraries from time to time, so you should know where they all are.  Go to the one just off Throne Room.  You'll find some maps there.  There should be one already out, on the table, of the city and its surroundings.  Big thing, hideous colours.  Get it and fetch it back here for us, please."

The girl who has, up until now, been quietly talking to Aaron, stands and bows, before heading for the door.

"That's not a bad idea... Roman, isn't it?...  Without their leaders, the troops may be easily demoralized and driven back, or at least persuaded to turn aside.  Certainly worth considering."

Chrissie gets to the door and reaches out to open it, only to have it swing open before she can lay a hand on it.  There is nothing mystical about it though.  Fiona is there, on her way back into the room with Banglen-Yp.  The Amberite princess looks concerned about something, but the blonde is smiling cheerfully.

The door closes behind Chrissie, and Fiona and Banglen-Yp return to their places.

 

•• Now I see what I did not • so I can now hear what I did not • although at time thing may be tricky as I am still learning • so apologises in advance ••

A cheerful, if cryptic, statement to perfectly match her cheerful visage and the blonde half bounced towards her companions.

•• A little at a time • not all at once • right • Princess ••

A potentially rhetorical question aimed at Fiona, naturally accompanied by a big smile at the concerned looking princess of Amber.

 

James all but groans.  This wasn't going at all how he had expected and he still had no idea how to introduce the topic of the traitor.

Tahirah suppresses a momentary flash of irritation.  The suggestion of removing their commanders, she might have thought, had really come from her, but this isn't what bothers her.  She'd left it understated intentionally.  Feeding her superiors good ideas, in ways that let it come from them, had been a carefully mastered art in serving the Lords of Charyk, and was exactly what she had been doing in merely offering to point them out.

What bothers her, is that assassinations had been exactly the kind of idea the Lords of Charyk would have leapt at in this circumstance, and was indeed what she had expected.  Roman's idea, as she heard it, was much better.

"If I may," she says, quietly, "I don't think Lord Roman was suggesting the mere removal of their leaders.  I think he proposed subversion?"  She makes it a question, turning slightly towards Roman and inclining her head.  "We know these attackers are here not of their own purpose, but for that of the Archons.  If we can learn what hold the Archons have on them, perhaps their needs can be met another way, allowing them to either end the attack, or even bolster your own forces against the next."

"The Archons," she adds, if only to put herself back in the right tone, "Are the enemies of all."

Somewhat pleased by the favourable mention, Roman nods to Tahirah "You have the right of it, although I must emphasise that it is the Seraphim faction of the Archons that are our enemies.  The Nephilim faction oppose them and must be counted invaluable allies. "

Turning to address the rest, now that Tahirah has expressed her support.  "Assassinating the leaders might serve - but we cannot know if it will be enough, or if it will help at all.  It might merely spur the attackers to greater fury.  The stakes are high and only by understanding the enemy can you hope to tilt the odds in your favour."

After a curious look at Fiona and Banglen-Yp, Random pulls his attention back to the more pressing matter of what to do about the invasion.

"Right.  Removing the influence of the leaders does sound like a good idea, whichever means we choose.  There are three choices, as I see it, working from your information and suggestions."

He raises one hand, with a single finger extended, "We could try to subvert the troops, possibly causing them to desert or, if we're really lucky, to defect.  The problem is that we might not be able to get enough of them to quit to make a difference.  It does have the advantage that, if they switch sides, then they strengthen our defences."

A second finger.  "We can try to cut their lines of command and communication, in an effort to sow confusion in their ranks.  I suspect, though, that if they have any capability for operating independently, then this will have only a limited effect.  The main advantage is that stopping the flow of information can be done without necessarily facing their main forces."

The third finger.  "Or we can try to kill their leaders.  This is probably the hardest to pull off, and it has the drawbacks of the other options too, without any major advantages over them."

"Once we have a look at the map, and get some more information from Benedict, it might give us a better idea which one we should try."

The king pauses for a moment, then, "As the only experts on the enemy that we have, would you people be prepared to help out with whichever option we decide to go with?"

 

A hand is raised and waved about, coupled with a big, friendly smile.

•• I can help • I got some talents that might be useful ••

The look turned brooding for a second or a half.

•• But I do not know much of the enemy other than what I have heard and seen ••

A shrug and a smile.

 

Roman muses on the options before answering.  "In principle, I would be prepared to offer assistance.  However, I think you have missed a possibility.  Since there is a shortage of intelligence on the enemy, perhaps it would be better to capture one of their leaders."

"More intelligence would certainly be useful.  You can never know too much about the opposition." Fiona agrees, supporting Roman's idea.  Her next words are drowned out by a babble of conversation, as the lords and ladies of Amber argue the pros and cons of the idea, and discuss whether it can be done, or not.  Random quietens the room by rapping the tabletop with the pommel of a dagger, and Fiona, after a nod to the King, continues speaking, "Would you suggest that we attempt to capture one of these Archons, or just one of the troop commanders that they have in Arden?"

"The latter would be easier, but the former might yield more information, and the prize might be worth the risk."

"Do you have any way of containing an Archon ?" Roman asks surprised that the idea is even suggested.   "I think that our immediate concern must be this current army, which we know too little of.  If Amber falls, it will be a major victory for the Seraphim.  None of us want to see that, even those who owe no loyalty to the city or its people."

"I have captured an Archon before, but it required extensive modifications of the environment.  The same method wouldn't work in Arden.  Better to try and take one of their allied commanders."

Not for the first time James reflects on the conflict that has marked, indeed shaped, his life.  It would be very nice to walk away from this battle, but some fights couldn't be avoided - at least not in good conscience.

Tahirah waits quietly, letting herself fade into the background while she waits for the maps.  So far as she can tell, she's already helping, so she gives only a small nod of confirmation, should anyone happen to be looking her way, when Random puts the question out.

The discussion continues for a little longer, with a concensus gradually forming that capturing a troop commander might be best.  For one thing, James' experience of Archons suggests that one of them would be far more difficult to hold, even if it could be captured.  Then there is the fact, as Random points out, that they can't even be sure that there are any Archons currently in Arden.

Then Chrissie returns with something which resembles a quarterstaff.  Chairs and tables are moved aside, since none of them are large enough, and the map, for that is what it is, is unrolled on the floor.  Spread out, the canvas is some twelve feet by five.  The edges are weighted down, and everybody crowds round, as Random points out the various features.

"This is the city, here, on the south east flank of Kolvir.  From Amber, the coast runs east, some thirty-five miles to Baylesport, and south, twenty miles to Faiella-bionin, the stair to Rebma, and then beyond.  Mountains run west and south from Kolvir, with the valley of Garnath on the southern side of the mountains.  On the north side of them is Arden."

"East and north-east of the city, this is all farmland and wine country."

"This river, running across the southernmost portion of Garnath, is the Oisen."

The king of Amber looks up, staring straight at Tahirah.  "So, can you tell where the greatest danger might lie?"

Tahirah steps forward, and looks down at the map.  She's quiet for a moment, and then spreads her hands, reaching out.  "They are here, and here..."  Broad sweeps indicate the general state of the battle, probably already known, so she doesn't spend long on it.  Her fingers tap down at several places, seemingly of their own accord, and she notes, "Leadership and inspirations."  She's quiet again, and then her left hand drifts along the shape of Kolvir, and taps at a symbol high above the city.  "Their intent is directed here.  This is their goal."

Random leans forward, studying the map.  "Yes, that's where our latest reports say most of the fighting is taking place, but we've had nothing reported from that area.  I'll send word to Julian and Benedict and let them know, in case they aren't already aware of it."

Then Tahirah points to the symbol marking a spot high on the mountain.  "Tir?  They are headed for Tir'Na Nogth... " he glances at Fiona, who is managing to entirely conceal any smugness she may be feeling at guessing correctly.  "But there's nothing there.  It's a reflection of Amber, built of shadows and moonlight."

"At least we know that if they intend to enter Tir, they'll have to wait for a moonlit night."

The big man who had spoken earlier runs a hand through his hair, "Maybe there is something there.  What do we really know about the place?"

"Shadows and moonlight are more than nothing," Tahirah says, quietly, her tone utterly devoid of any kind of reproach.  Just an observation.

Roman studies the map.  Will the objective permit the attackers to bypass the city ?  Any sensible leader would want to avoid assaulting the place if it were unnecessary.  And are there good places to place defenders - or even an ambush - on the attacker's route ?  Although the city and it's Pattern seem safe from direct attack, the enemy forces may well do great harm if they get to their objective.

 

•• A mirrored of this place sounds like the ideal way to visit this place without being actually here ••

It was said with a smile and then the strange blonde looked around the room.

•• One could easily make a map on how to reach this room the by shortest route • or by the most scenice and private one route if one so wishes ••

The gaze fell down on the Amberites and her companions.

•• Indeed more than mere shadows and moonlight ••

 

"That could be it." Random says, thoughtfully.  "As Gerard said, we don't know a lot about the place.  They might be able to draw up a map of sorts, based on Tir as a reflection of Amber... " 

"And there is supposed to be an almost perfect Pattern up there." Fiona interjects.  "If somebody were to walk that, they might be able to move from there to the real Pattern."

Random frowns then, "Of course!  And either of those reasons for going there makes Roman's suggestion all the more vital.  We should try to organise an ambush.  I'd say, here... " he points to the mark on the map.  "If they're headed for Tir, they have to climb that stair, it's the only way into the city.  It's a natural bottleneck."

He nods to Tahirah, "As you say...  Shadows and moonlight could be a threat to us."

"It certainly looks a likely spot for an ambush."  And it does, but James still sounds dubious.

"A route to the real Pattern would be a worthy objective, but I would expect to see Archons if they were that close to their goal.  I don't think a map of the static defences would achieve very much, there are easier ways to reconnoitre.  But what Banglen-Yp suggests - a map of the interior of the castle suggests espionage."

"I've only ever heard stories of Tir'Na Nogth.  What's it like up there?  Would it be possible for an agent in the city to leave a message that could be read or picked up in Tir?"

Roman cannot fully agree with James.  "I do not think we can afford to assume that permitting this force to achieve their objective would be anything less than devastating for Amber.  Whatever is intended, we must presume that it will advance the Seraphim cause at least as much as assaulting the city itself."

Random considers these latest comments, "I agree, to a certain extent.  We have to assume that they have a reason for going there, though we don't know what that reason might be.  Or how important it is to their plans."

And then Fiona interrupts again, "Corwin once told me about something that happened to him in Tir.  An encounter with a ghost from a future which only happened because Corwin met the ghost.  Something like that could be involved here."

She dips the tip of her finger in Gerard's wine goblet, and uses it to draw a circle on a tabletop.  "Imagine the Archons have something that lets them conquer Amber, here... " she marks a point on the circle, "... and afterwards they hide it in Tir.  Then their army goes to Tir and retrieves it here, before it was hidden, allowing the Archons to use it to conquer Amber.  All they have to do then is remember to hide it, so that it can be recovered earlier."

Random studies her for a moment, and then asks, "But how would they know to go and fetch this thing.  That would require them knowing about Tir, and about Corwin's experience there."

"Perhaps they have a spy in the palace."

 

•• Oh I know this one ••

Banglen-Yp claps her hands eagerly and bounces a little.

•• What if the ones in the future sent someone back to see to that what came to pass there will come to pass here • perhaps even sooner than it did • or will •• I have seen such things done • artificial creations travelling back to prepare for the conquest that had happened later ••

She puts her hands behind her back, stands up on her toes and pushes her chest out as a big grin forms on her face.

•• That is what I would do if I could send someone back • tell them where to find the key • so to speak ••

 

The lords and ladies of Amber fall silent as Banglen-Yp speaks.  For many of them, this is the most that they have heard the young woman say... and it is more confusing than anything else she has told them so far.

Fiona finally says, "I... think... I understand what she means, and she is correct."

Random, for his part, simply chooses to ignore the mysterious speech, and focus on the new issue, raised by Fiona, which he does understand, "A spy would be very bad news indeed.  Possibly one of the ambassadors, or other visitors?"

"If the information came from the future, the source may not even have told the Seraphim yet" Roman points out.  "Might I suggest that to resolve the question, we need more intelligence on the enemy forces, and that capturing one of their leaders seems to be the best way of discovering it available to us."

"Well, yes.  We need to capture one of their leaders.  More than that, we need to catch the leader of the force that drives at Tir."

"Sorry, that's a bit cryptic.  We set the ambush as Random suggested.  We feign weakness at a nearby spot on the frontline.  Encourage the enemy to punch through.  Subtly reinforce the flanks of the breach and try to encircle the advance force."  James illustrates his plan by pointing out areas where the terrain would favour the movement of reserves and the like, although it's difficult for him to be specific without knowing current troop deployments.

"Also, have you considered the possibility that the spy might be a family member?"  James abruptly changes the topic, takes a slight step back from the map table and watches for the reactions of the assembled Amberites.

Random nods as James and Roman make their points.  "Yes, more information couldn't hurt."

And then James changes the subject, and there is one of those uncomfortable silences.  The king shakes his head, and smiles, "You've been away too long, James, if you think we haven't all considered the possibility of another traitor in the family already.  Brand´s antics left deep scars.  We've all looked into it, using our own resources, and so far, nothing has turned up."

"Which proves nothing, of course.  Between you and me, we're a devious bunch."

He thinks for a moment, then seems to come to a decision, "Very well...  I'm going to place your group in charge of taking the enemy leader, alive.  As long as you can find out what the bloody hell they're up to, though, he doesn't have to stay alive if keeping him that way presents a problem.  I'll leave the details of how you do it up to you."

"How many troops do you think you'll need?"

 

Smiling happily from having contributed - be it to the discussion or to confusing everyone shall remain unclear until the end of time and a bit - the young blonde listened and watched.

•• There is a way to find out who the traitor is • if there is one • but I am sure you have tried that already ••

•• Beside • I would not know who to trust with this anyway ••

Still sounding too cheerful and showing a big smile.

 

"Couldn't say for sure." James gives his characteristic shrug.

"I don't know enough about current deployment, equipment and morale.  Give me twenty minutes with one of your field commanders and I can tell you."

James is confident that it won't take him long to assess the situation.  Once he has a better idea of the flow of the battle he can start to make more specific plans.  And then he would ask Tahirah for a reading.

It's probably just as well that James' mind is taken up with other things as it helps mute the surprise he feels at Banglen-Yp's announcement.  Either Banglen-Yp's idea would be as nonsensical as some of her other pronouncements or it would be a piece of unorthodox brilliance - and James wouldn't be prepared to bet either way.

Well I wish you'd told me how to do it.

Random opens his mouth to say... something.  Then closes it again.  He turns away from Banglen-Yp, his expression more than a little puzzled, and speaks to James instead, "I'll see that you get some time with at least one of them."

Back to Banglen-Yp again, and another attempt at speaking gets a little further, "Why don't you... " a rethink, followed by, "I'm the King, which means that the traitor is my enemy.  I'm not likely to be the traitor, which means you can tell me."

"I know most of the people in this room, very well, and you know the ones that I don't.  I believe everybody in this room is trustworthy.  At least in this case."

"If you know who the traitor is, or know how to find out, I'd be interested in hearing about it."

 

Another bright smile and then she nodded slowly to the King, even if she did not think he really looked much like Elvis.  But she had seen worse.

•• It is in two stages •• First one is really simple ••

•• All you need to do is tell everyone a different thing • or every group if there are many suspects •• Then you check to see what the enemy acts on • which tells you from where it came ••

•• Now • if there are but a few then it is easy • you have your traitor there • but if there are many • which I suspect there is • servants • guards and others • well • then we move on to stage two of the plan ••

She had started to pace back and forth, waving a finger about as she explain, the other hand at the small of her back, glancing from person to person.

When she finished she stopped and turned to look at the King again.







•• The second stage ••

It was said slowly and clearly.


•• Is as simple • but I need the help of you all • to prepare for ••

•• You are • some of you anyway • far more familiar with these Archon than I am • and thus I could do with a few pointers • since it is important to be as similar as possible • plus once the traitor is exposed you should all be there anyway ••

 

Roman refrains from pointing out the number of Amberites in the room.  Contradicting a king without a very good reason is rarely a good idea.  Especially if the contradiction might be considered an insult in itself.  (Even though the Princess Fiona does make a very plausible suspect).

The first part of Banglen-Yp's idea isn't bad but the timing is off - it may be a little late for that.

"I don't want to be too negative, but it seems to me that it would be difficult to get quick results from such a plan.  Unless something of the sort has already been set up ?"

"That depends," Tahirah says quietly, "On the importance and the urgency of the information planted.  A traitor's position is inherently unstable; it does not often take much to unbalance it."

"The first part of the plan is good." Random muses, "I'm sure we can come up with something that will send our traitor running to his masters as quickly as possible, and stir up an immediate response from them."

"I'm not sure that I follow the second part, though.  Are you proposing to disguise yourself as one of the enemy?  I was under the impression that they are wholly inhuman in form." the king glances around at the others, "Is that not correct?"

"It would be easier, if we had any idea who we might be looking for." adds Fiona, "But, since we don't, any plan that helps to narrow things down, even a little, can't do any harm."

 

A nod to Random's musings then a smile at the King.

•• Yes • disguise myself as one of them • to help the traitor feel safe &bull or not • depending on their initial reaction ••

•• It will take a moment as I am not accustomed to their shape • yet • but I also need pointers from those who know them better so I can achieve near perfection ••

A gesture towards her companions foremost.

•• Allow me to show you ••

She squatted down and slow, almost so that an observer could be fooled to think it was a trick of their eyes - or indeed the light - she began to change into something else, something wheel-like.

 

The clothes fade first, seeming to merge with the flesh beneath, even as that. flesh becomes something... not flesh.  Slowly, over the course of several minutes, the crouch evolves into a more foetal position, as the Lords and Ladies of Amber watch, their faces a mix of fascination and revulsion.

Banglen-Yp's face vanishes, becoming a blank oval, and her hair appears to retreat into her scalp.  Nothing happens for long moments...

And then, in a change so sudden that it draws gasps of startled shock from some of her audience, a blade, eight inches long, and shaped like the fin of a shark, erupts from her back, just below the right shoulder blade.  A second follows almost immediately.  Then another, and another...

In moments the thing which used to be Banglen-Yp is covered with visciously hooked blades and its skin has become plates of polished steel and brass and bronze.

And she moves, tilting forward into a roll, and before it is half completed, there is only a hoop of spinning blades, about four feet across, rising to hover in the air.

"Gods!"  All but forgotten, back in the corner with Aaron, Chrissie looks embarrassed at her outburst, and raises one hand to cover her mouth.

Random's reaction is a little less shocked.  "This might just work."

 

•• It is not prefect • I am sure • but that is why I need help ••

The cheerful voice of the blonde came from, well, the would-be Archon, clashing more with the appearance than one would think almost possible.

•• The change will also go quicker the more I use it • it is all a matter of habit ••

A matter-of-fact statement if ever there was one.

•• So • what do you say • all I know from these are from the one that cut me in half and the other two I met briefly ••

Another all too cheerful and carefree statement in stark contrast to the meaning of the words, this one apparently mostly aimed at the followers of the, well, would-be Archon, as it swings towards them, dancing about happily - or how to describe such a movement from a hovering wheel.

 

"Hmm, you could try spinning a bit faster"  Roman comments.  "Otherwise, it looks good."

Hope she doesn't get dizzy

Tahirah watches Banglen-Yp's change, and is glad for the heavy cowl hiding her face.  Slack-jawed amazement is not the impression she likes to make.

As soon as the newly minted Archon speaks, though, she snaps back to herself, and walks in a half circle around it, turning as she does to keep her facing.  "Superficially," she says in a tone of agreement.  "But no deeper.  The Archons move with purpose.  The knives of a butcher, not a juggler.  If you would convince anyone that you are one of them, you will have to focus."

James can see rather more flaws in the first part of Banglen-Yp's plan than he cares to admit (leaving aside the possibility the traitor was a family member and now forewarned).  It was all very well feeding out partial information and watching for a response.  It was the strategy that he would have used had they more time to unmask the traitor.  But it required that the traitor act on the leaked information.  A clever spy (and any spy that could elude Fiona had to be considered very clever) or a clever handler would know that sometimes you had to decline an opportunity in order to avoid suspicion.*  James considered that the approach would require a counter-espionage campaign, not a single juicy piece of bait.

It's a pity Meredith wasn't here, James muses.  Loathe as he would be to push her to use her talent, Meredith's reading ability would be invaluable here.  As it was, Fiona was right, regrettably.  James would have to provide the sparse information that he had about 'Corey' and hope that someone else could make the connection, but first he wanted to see what else Banglen-Yp had in mind.

It was worth waiting for.  "That...is very impressive."  James had seen Banglen-Yp in a variety of forms: sex kitten, actual kitten and dolphin to name a few, but he had never seen her transform or to take on such an alien form.  It was rather unsettling to watch.

"Roman and Tahirah are both correct.  If I may: your blades are too highly polished and too regular.  Think steel rather than quicksilver."

"Also, while the blades need to appear more random, the movement of the blades is more deliberate.  Quite a task that, but then I don't know how much you're having to concentrate on the movement of the blades.  If it helps, try slowing down then think of a pattern - like looking down on a ballroom full of dancers, or knitting, where each row of blades is a thread.

"Once you've got that down, you'll need to speed up.  You should know you're getting close by the noise.  The blade Archons can spin silently but they tend to clink or clatter as blades knock against each other.  I think it's almost like an aural signature."

James lists the points that spring immediately to mind.  There was enough diversity amongst the Archons that he was confident that, given practice, Banglen-Yp could pass scutiny, except in one regard.

"Tahirah is more correct than perhaps she realises.  Superficially, you may pass as an Archon but you don't have the psychic presence.  I don't think you can mimic that.  Some of the Archons might mask themselves, but I doubt it's common.  You would fool most of their servants, which may be sufficient, but if you meet another Archon, or even a trained sorceror, you would be in trouble."

"It's a pity Berd isn't here, he's a master at that sort of thing.  I don't suppose you could fake an aura at range, Fiona?"

James stiffens, "Hold that thought." he adds in a distracted tone, "I have an incoming call."

*OOC: There is a story from WWII that during the German bombing of England, a raid had been predicted against London.  Churchill, knowing from the broken Enigma code that the bombers would strike Coventry went up to the roof of his London HQ and watched, knowing that he could have given warning but knowing that if he did the Germans might deduce that their code was ineffective.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:07, Mon 03 May 2010.

 

•• Faster • purpose • steel • noise • physche ••

A list, spoken as if indeed taking notes.

Then...

•• She's making a list • and checking it twice • gonna find out • who's naughty and nice • Banglen-Yp is comiiiing to toooown ••

A spurt of singing and then a clearing of a throat that does not exist.

•• The mental bit I have never really done • or not in this life as far as my memory go • which is not all that far • but I will try •• Hopefully • though • that will not be needed • if we at all get to this stage •• But a long shot in the dark is better than none in broad daylight ••

She, it, is making sense again.

•• I can always put up my block and appear blank ••

•• Oh • and no • I do not have to concentrate once I am a form • because I am that form then • but I must learn it first •• So • do tell • how do they speak ••

A question rounded of the mixture of nonsensical and slightly more sensible speech.

 

Fiona considers James question carefully, then shakes her head, "I don't think I could do it convincingly.  I don't have a wealth of experience with these creatures, so somebody who had experience of dealing with these things might be able to spot the difference."

"Frankly, it might be better not to try.  Leave the person thinking they were dealing with an Archon that's trying to hide its presence from me, for instance."

In the back corner of the room, Aaron and Chrissie are whispering quietly as the man apparently points out various features of Banglen-Yp's disguise to his multiple-times removed granddaughter.

The fake Archon, meanwhile, begins to change.  The patterns of its movement first, and a gradual dulling of the metal which comprises its form.  Slowly, it begins to look even more menacing.  The increasingly irregular blades start to produce a faint whistling, interspersed with the sounds of metal scraping on metal.

"Put up your block..." James echoes Banglen-Yp's comment rather vacantly. As the thought registers, his voice rises "Sweet merciful heavens!  You mean that blank that everyone frets about is a block?  I figured you had to be some kind of null."

Abruptly, James realises how rude his interjection must seem.  "Sorry, I didn't mean any offence.  You're doing great.  Maybe just a little less whistle.  But I think you'd pass muster without any difficulty now.  Don't worry too much about the voice.  The Archons I've heard didn't have any particular way of talking."  As it happens, James thinks that Banglen-Yp's slightly alien phrasing will be an advantage, but he doesn't articulate the thought.

"Anyway, I hope you'll soon have a much more qualified guide." James turns to Random, "I've just had trump-contact from one of our friends.  May I bring the rest of the group through?"

 

•• Well • it is my natural state • but I believe a block is the right word • from what I learnt •• I know little of my kind • as I do not remember much yet in this life • but yes • what you would call a block is my normal state • I still need to learn to control how much I open • though • as to not drown you with my essence ••

A quite cheerful reply, as is usual for the normally strange blonde, now but a detached voice.

•• Now then • I am certain they do not sound like a human female • so please do bring them here ••

The voice changed slightly, becoming a bit metallic but still quite human.  More like a human talking into a metal can, causing weird effects to be heard.

•• Oh • and no offence • of course • and thank you for the pointer about the whistle ••

The whistle had indeed died down a little again.

 

Standing up, Random stretches, then starts to circle around Banglen-Yp, studying her from a variety of angles as she continues to adjust her appearance.  As he walks, he starts speaking, "So... we have a plan which has two major elements then."

"First, we need to stop the attack currently aimed at Tyr, and attempt to capture whoever, or whatever, is in immediate command of it."

The King of Amber looks at James and the others that he considers de facto agents of Amber, even if some of them would deny it themselves, "Second, and not necessarily at the same time, we will attempt to leak false information, and use Banglen-Yp, in an attempt to locate the traitor that we believe exists in the castle."

"Is there any more to be considered?"

Roman looks around, seeing that nobody else seems to be answering.  "That seems to be about it, your majesty.  However, if we are to join the battle, it would be helpful to know the nature of the foes."

Before the king can answer, one of the other family members speaks, the slim man, dressed all in green, "I've had spies out in Arden for the last few days.  As far as we know, most of the enemy appear mostly human.  There are a few that seem different, a whole brigade of red skinned giants, about nine feet tall, and wearing mail of what appears to be green glass rings.  Also a number of creatures that look to be more lion than man, which seem to be archers of great skill."

"But apart from those, the army seems to be human, with minor differences.  The number of different differences is very great though, as if the army had been drawn from very many different places."

Banglen-Yp, meanwhile, continues to make small changes to her appearance, under onstruction from James and Tahirah.

"Thanks, that's good to know.  It's Cain, isn't it?  I don't know that we ever properly introduced when I was here before." James answers.

Cain's response allayed some of James' fears.  At least the enemy troops were conventional, relatively speaking.  The numbers were doubtless unfavourable but if Jonny could deliver on his promised Brintizzi, James wouldn't favour the invaders' chances.

"Random, sorry to repeat myself, but you didn't say whether I could bring Cyan and the others through?"

Random rubs at the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful, then, "By all means, I think we need as much assistance in this as we can get."

"Yes," Tahirah says, softly.

 

♦♦ INDEED ♦♦

The voice was now far more metallic and ominous, sounding like someone dropping a crate of heavy knives on a metal conveyor belt where the knives got stuck and make grinding noises.  Perhaps not perfect mimic yet but it was getting closer, same with appearance, with countless blades whistling and touching each other in a nightmarish swirl that promised pain to anyone foolish enough to venture too close.

♦♦ IT WILL NOT BE EASY ♦ IT MAY NOT WORK ♦ BUT THERE IS NOTHING TO LOST IN ATTEMPTING THIS PLAN ♦ BUT IF IT WORKS ♦ THERE MIGHT BE A LOT TO WIN ♦♦

The entity that not long age was a blonde human female slowly rolled side-ways as it spoke, seemingly not bothered with up or down or front or back any more.

♦♦ INTERESTING DESIGN ♦ THIS CREATURE ♦♦

 

"It all sounds possible."  Roman comments.  "Would it be a good idea to try our imitation Archon out on the attackers, or is it better to keep her secret ?   It could be a good test of her ability to pass for a real Archon."

Around James a rainbow nimbus starts to form, hazy and indistinct at first, but growing more clearly defined with each passing heartbeat...