“She's going to be fine. Weak, physically and spiritually, but I think she'll grow strong quickly. She's a strong heart.” Devlin's conversation took her by surprise and she's surprised how much she's missed it. He was her rock one night in the rain when she felt very much on shifting sands.

She watches Devlin mutter and eat and finally voice his inner agitation. The woman smiles, “ami was scouting and these people needed our help. At least we know Charyk is an empty road. I think the thing with James is they might have discovered something on their journey. Just exchanging information.” Her eyes darken, “But I admit, I can't see the path we need to be on. I know some have ideas, but, I wish I could see.

“As for Chance,” her eyes leave Devlin's to look down the roads of this small hamlet, “I don't know what he's up to. I would have thought he would let one of you know.” Concern still clouds those blue eyes as she turns back to Devlin, “I agree; we need to go. James, first. Chance should return by the time Cyan finishes (she hopes) and then we can go – though where is still up in the air.”

"I believe that the only course that will be of any use is to find this man that calls himself Carl Corey, Or Ganelon, or any number of other things. The man that originally gave the rod and sword to the brothers at Charyk. The man with the dark grey hair and beard, shot through with red; the man with the grey eyes with flecks of silver."

Devlin looks down at Cyan. "The others were on there way to Amber, maybe someone there knows one of that description. Are they in Amber? If so, then that may be a place to get the answer to who this Amberite may be."

Turning back to Trista, "At any rate, this man was there at the beginning. That's where the river starts, and it is always good to return to a rivers birth waters to discover why it was formed."

Nearby, Trgiaob stops following a bee, and turns towards Trista and Devlin, + EXCUSE US, PLEASE.  IF THIS MAN YOU SPEAK OF WAS THERE AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS SITUATION, HE WOULD BE EXTREMELY OLD NOW.  THIS SITUATION HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR A CONSIDERABLE LENGTH OF TIME.  IN HUMAN TERMS, SUCH A MAN MIGHT BE CONSIDERED IMMORTAL. +

The Archon pauses, expanding and contracting twice, in the blink of an eye.

+ BUT NOW THAT WE THINK OF IT, THERE WAS A MAN AT THE START OF IT.  SO LONG AGO THAT MOST ARCHONS HAVE FORGOTTEN HIM, IF THEY KNEW OF HIM AT ALL.  HE MUST BE LONG DEAD BY NOW...  WE ONLY KNOW OF HIM FROM RUMOUR AND HEARSAY. +

At some point, Chance is seen again, as if he never left, playing and singing with the children until someone indicates it is time to move on once more.

Satisfied, Cyan turns over James' card, breaking the connection.  "The others have indeed arrived in Amber," she notes, simultaneously answering Devlin's question, "and are prepared to take us there."

Glancing around, she sees the group of men, woman, and child all within speaking range.  "Gather around," Cyan calls, with a curious stare at Chance.  Had he not wandered off moments ago?  Well, she has been busy with the palanquet, he certainly could have returned.  Excitement grows within her, and her emerald eyes sparkle in the sunshine.  Finally, she will gaze upon the fabled city.  Finally, she-

Trgiaob speaks, and it's all Cyan can do not to slap her forehead.

But too much is at stake here; she turns to the archon immediately, her tone taut with tension.  "A man at the beginning?  If it pleases you, Trgiaob, speak to us of him - all you have heard, rumours and heresay included!"

Trista rubs her eyes, processing Devlin's words. He had mentioned this Carl Corey to her before and had forgotten all about him. Proof her memory is far from perfect. She nods at his logic, “I agree. Though I doubt the entire group should go in search of him. We're a big lot,” referring to James' group, too.

The site of Chance distracts her, just off a bit, playing music for the children. A smile plays on her lips. Small things make all the difference.

For the adults, too.

She guesses also for the task at hand.

Then Cyan begins talking to them. Trista had been somewhat surprised that she didn't hear Cyan's half the conversation, but no doubt, the woman had reason to keep it private. So to Amber, it is.

Or not.

Trista sighs, louder than she had meant. Trgiaob certainly needs to be heard: information is power. But the timing... always when they're just about ready to leave, something prevents them. What must be done, must be done. And so Trista turns her attention to the archon, but her eyes stay on the laughing children.

Small things.

Devlin turns toward the Archon shocked, and is about to speak when Cyan speaks his mind for him, as if she had read what he was going to say.

A shake of his head and he adds "Yes, please. Any story of this man." and his attention is now fully on the Archon as he awaits its response.

Trgiaob shifts size, growing larger, and slowing its rotation a little, before returning to its original size and speed, + IT IS A VERY OLD TALE, DATING BACK TO FAR BEFORE OUR OWN BEGINNINGS, AND MOST HAVE FORGOTTEN IT.  THOSE WHO DO REMEMBER USUALLY REGARD IT AS A LEGEND, OR SIMPLY A WAY TO JUSTIFY CONQUEST.  WE WILL ENDEAVOR TO RECALL THE DETAILS... +

The Archon starts to move oddly, revolving slowly around its vertical axis as it speaks, and its voice takes on a tone like the tolling of a bell, + THE FIRST PLACE IS WHERE THE ARCHONS LIVED FOR MOST OF THEIR HISTORY, BUT IT WAS BECOMING CROWDED.  NO MORE THAN A SMALL BUBBLE IN THE UNDERFLOW, IT WAS LIKE A PRISON, AND THE ARCHONS COULD NOT ESCAPE.  NOR COULD THEY KEEP FROM PRODUCING MORE ARCHONS, BECAUSE THERE WAS A CONSTANT NEED IN OUR PEOPLE TO CREATE AND COMMAND VAST ARMIES AND DOMINATE AS MUCH TERRITORY AS POSSIBLE. +

+ HATREDS FLARED, AND WARS WERE FOUGHT, AND STILL THERE WERE TOO MANY ARCHONS IN TOO LITTLE SPACE.  THEIR KHEDS, THEIR LIMITS, CLASHED CONSTANTLY... IMAGINE A HUMAN WORLD SO CROWDED THAT NO HUMAN COULD MOVE, EVEN A LITTLE, WITHOUT THEIR EXTREMITIES STRIKING ANOTHER HUMAN.  THAT WAS HOW ARCHONS LIVED, FOR MOST OF ETERNITY. +

Shrinking to about a foot in diameter, Trgiaob starts to weave a circuitous path, between and around its audience, + UNTIL... WELL... ONE DAY WOULD BE THE CLOSEST HUMAN TERM FOR IT, A STRANGE CREATURE APPEARED AMONG THE ARCHONS, UNLIKE ANYTHING THEY HAD ENCOUNTERED BEFORE.  HE SAID HE WAS A HUMAN, AND THAT HE COULD SHOW THE ARCHONS A WAY OUT OF THEIR PRISON.  BUT HE WOULD NEED THEIR ASSISTANCE. +

+ SO DESPERATE WHERE THE ARCHONS THAT THEY READILY AGREED TO HIS TERMS.  IN ALL TRUTH, THERE WAS LITTLE HARDSHIP INVOLVED.  ARCHONS HAD LONG SOUGHT TO DOMINATE TERRITORY - ONE REASON THE FIRST PLACE BECAME SO CROWDED WAS THAT THOSE WHO LIVED THERE CONSTANTLY EXPANDED THEIR FORCES IN AN ATTEMPT TO SIEZE THAT WHICH BELONGED TO OTHERS.  IT IS THE NATURE OF OUR KIND. +

+ THE HUMAN, WHO NAMED HIMSELF FINDER, OFFERED THE OPPORTUNITY TO SPREAD OUT INTO NEW TERRITORIES.  TO FIND MORE SPACE THAN ANY ARCHON HAD EVER DREAMED OF.  AND HIS ONLY CONDITION WAS THAT THEIR FIRST TARGET WOULD BE A PLACE THAT HE SPECIFIED, BEFORE WE MOVED ON TO OTHERS.  THEN, ONCE HE WAS CERTAIN THAT THE ARCHONS UNDERSTOOD THAT THEY WERE TO CONQUER THIS PARTICULAR GROUPING OF WORLDS BEFORE ANY OTHER, HE SHOWED THEM A WAY TO GO FROM THE FIRST PLACE TO YOUR UNDERFLOW. +

Dorian blinks. His head tilts slightly.

"Fundamentally flawed," Galatea says. "They will only end up in the same state here, overcrowded. Then they will move on to other nodes, overcrowded. Ignore the root cause. Bandage the symptom; no cure."

She glances at her father, and then back to the others. "We cannot make them unlearn the technique that brought them here. We know of no way to close the leak. This man taught them the technique; perhaps he knows how to prevent it. More importantly, why did he seek to teach them this thing? Surely it was not concern for their--" she glances at Dorian again. "--overcrowding problem."

Dorian turns and wanders off a few paces to find a place to sit, back hunched and doweled head bent.

"My father's concentration is elsewhere."

Chance excuses himself from the children to join the conversation, gently tearing himself from tiny, grasping hands and pleas for more song.

"Well, if he knows how to pass between groups of worlds--nodes--then we may never find him, if he isn't here."

"Trgiaob," he says. "Do you know anyone still living who might have spoken to this individual, or even seen him? We will likely need a better way to track him."

Cyan listens in silence to the Archon's tale, her lips pressed together.  Another hint.  Another clue.  All forming part of a vast net, a webwork.  Only they cannot find the proper places for the threads, and it has become a hopeless tangle.

Something solid.  She wracks her brain as Galatea points out the band-aid nature of the solution, and Chance asks one vital question.  The combination of the spirit-girl's analysis and his request, however, reminds her of her of what she learned of tactics at the feet of Cúthalion and the Heavy-Handed, years before.

His goals.

One finger rises.  "Another question, Trgaiob, one for which I pray you can give us clear answer."  Emerald eyes close for an instant and Cyan turns her face up to the sun.  "Lords of the West, let it be so," she whispers.  The eyes snap open, ruby now, and hard as the stone.

"Which worlds?"  The bard rocks on her feet, almost as if readying herself.  Her stomach in knots, Cyan clarifies.  "Which worlds did he demand you conquer first?"

Trgiaob remains silent for a while, or as close to silent as one of the danioti can be.  Steel whispers against steel, for long moments, until the Archon finally speaks again, + THERE IS ONLY ONE WHOSE IDENTITY WE KNOW, WHO WAS ALIVE THEN, AND WE DO NOT BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO CONTACT THAT ONE.  OTHERS MAY HAVE SPOKEN TO THE HUMAN, OR WITNESSED HIS ARRIVAL, BUT MANY WERE KILLED BY HARBONAH IN THE POWER STRUGGLES WHICH FOLLOWED. +

+ IF ANY OF THOSE WITNESSES STILL LIVE, WE ARE UNAWARE OF THEM.  WE WERE NOT ALIVE AT THAT TIME. +

Galatea's statement brings a harsh, metallic laugh, + A CLEVER THOUGHT.  HOWEVER, THE FIRST PLACE WAS INFINITE, YET BOUNDED.  THIS PLACE IS ALSO INFINITE, BUT IT EXTENDS TO ACCOMODATE WHATEVER EXISTS WITHIN IT.  ITS BOUNDARIES ARE ELASTIC, AND WE CAN NEVER FILL IT.  BUT EVEN WERE THAT NOT THE CASE, WE DO NOT BELIEVE THAT WOULD CONCERN HARBONAH. +

Then comes Cyan's question, + WE DO NOT KNOW WHY MOST OF HIS CHOSEN WORLDS WERE SELECTED.  WE WERE ONLY TOLD THAT ONCE WE HAD DESTROYED THE FINAL WORLD IN THE SEQUENCE, OUR OBLIGATION WOULD BE COMPLETED.  HE ALSO TOLD THOSE WHO SPOKE WITH HIM THAT HIS OWN GOAL WAS VENGEANCE.  IT IS OUR BELIEF THAT MOST OF THE WORLDS WERE CHOSEN TO PROPAGATE FEAR IN HIS TRUE TARGETS. +

+ THE FINAL SPECIFIED WORLD, HIS TRUE GOAL, WAS THE ONE FURTHEST FROM WHERE WE FIRST ENTERED THIS SPACE'S UNDERFLOW, AND THERE IS A GREAT POWER THERE, WHICH LONG HELD US BACK, SO FULFILLING THE OBLIGATION TO DESTROY THAT PLACE HAS TAKEN A LONG TIME.  BUT THAT FINAL WORLD, AMBER HE NAMED IT, WILL FALL.  AND ONCE IT IS GONE, THE REST WILL, SADLY, CRUMBLE EASILY. +

Chance nods. "No surprise there. Revenge on Amber, I hear it's a popular theme throughout history. I guess we could conclude that someone, or something, in Amber might know the rest of the story then. As chance would have it--no pun intended--we already have some people in Amber who can look into that. Did he give any other name or title that we might use to find him?"

"And ... I don't know if this is right, but if the Archon's came through the chaos side of things, wouldn't that mean to reach them, our guy had to be a shapeshifter, or somehow powerful enough to survive there."

+ WE ARE NOT OF CHAOS, NOR OF ANY OTHER PART OF THIS PLACE.  THE FIRST PLACE WAS... ELSEWHERE, + Trgiaob interrupts Chance's thoughts, + THOUGH WE SUPPOSE THAT WOULD NOT PRECLUDE THE FINDER'S BEING A SHAPESHIFTER, WHICH WOULD CERTAINLY HAVE ASSISTED HIS SURVIVAL IN THE FIRST PLACE. +

"No, that wasn't what I meant," Chance says. "Not from Chaos. But they came through at some point, and you said furthest point from Amber, and my knowledge of the worlds is rather limited. So if that ain't Chaos, where is it?"

+ NOT OF CHAOS.  WE SAID THAT AMBER WAS THE FURTHEST POINT FROM WHERE MY PEOPLE ENTERED, NOT THAT THEY ENTERED AT THE FURTHEST POINT FROM AMBER. +

The Archon dips, and leaves a groove in the ground.  A second, shorter groove is added, perpendicular to the first, about a third of the way along it.

   ---+-------


+ ONE END OF THE LONGER LINE IS CLEARLY FURTHER FROM THE SHORTER LINE, BUT THE OTHER END IS NOT PARTICULARLY CLOSE TO IT EITHER. +

Cyan sags, her eyes darkening to obsidian, and she rubs her forehead wearily.  "Too much to hope for," the bard mutters, her cadance less formal than her norm.  So close - almost something they could use.  But 'wants to destroy Amber'.  "Not like we can just look him up in their god-rotted history and legends."  Her right hand twitches once toward Gurthang's hilt, then knots into a fist.  Knuckles whiten.

Jaw aching, Cyan passes a trembling hand across her brow and slowly breathes out her frustration.  "Well.  Information we already suspected - that our 'man' was some kind of traitor, acting against Amber's best interests - but confirmation is always useful.  If there is aught else from the legends you recall, Trgiaob, I would be most grateful to hear of it."  And she bows to the Archon.  "Thank you."  Quiet, serious, and above all, sincere.  Even if the information did not prove as useful as she hoped, Trgiaob offered it freely.  And it might, in part, become of use at some point.  After all, they travel to Amber, do they not?  Surely the Princes and Princesses can make something of this?

Hope springs eternal.

"I will finish your palanquet, Trgiaob, the first chance I have, and bespeak you with whatever we discover."

Chance adopts an expression of mock displeasure and folds his arms across his chest. "I thought I was your First Chance!"

Bad timing? Probably.

He coughs and lets his arms fall by his side. "Actually, enemy of Amber might be cross-referenced with his appearance--which as seemed to show some consistancy in the few accounts we have--and perhaps with other details we gather along the way. Have we tried a direct approach, letting an Amberite lead us to him?"

One hand comes up and scratches at the side of his head, idly.

"Anyway, didn't we hear on Charyk that this fellow built the weapons to help destroy the Archons? My memory is dim, but it seemed to go down like that, didn't it? So not only must we ponder his motivation in attacking Amber, but also his motivation in ... trying to save it maybe?"

"I hope you will prove our best Chance," Cyan shoots back without pause, some of the tension evapourating from her.  "I believe we have attempted use of the Great Pattern to seek our traitor," she continues, more seriously, "to no avail.  But my memories are spotty," Cyan admits, sapphire eyes concerned.

"As for his creation of the weapons, it boots nothing to gain victory at the expense of all there is.  Like as not he plays both sides against the middle, sending the Archons against Amber while preparing a means to defeat them once they serve his purpose."  She paces in a circle again, pondering.  "Dangerous.  Foolishly so.  And yet, it seems likely he has other contingencies in place, possibly involving the vhuul, and other races."  The bard grimaces.  "Or he may be mad, and not think past his goal of...revenge?  Who can say?"

Still nothing.  Perhaps Trgiaob has something to add...if not, they should depart.

Dorian lifts his head. He makes an odd movement, as if trying to stretch his back while standing, but without making it overt. His hands slip upward and pull his cowl back from his head. His eyes blink in the brighter light now that they lack their former shielding.

He takes a step forward. "I have already tried to find the man, twice, but my methods of searching are flawed and not well suited for a search of such scope. We can only hope Amber knows more and prepare to find him by other means. It occurs to me that while we may not be able to locate him directly, we may locate a means of locating him. Within the infinite worlds, there must be objects of power that can search the myriad worlds for significant individuals ... or perhaps even see into the past, to reveal more of this story."

He glances towards Galatea, and then back to Cyan.

"And if all else fails, there is always my ex-wife." Loathing drips from his words like stale venom.

Galatea's eyes deepen and she looks away, her features conflicted.

The deathsinger grins at Cyan's quip, glad his humor hadn't been taken wrongly in such tense moments.

"Well, it seems like we know our goal, then. We've got to learn more about this dude one way or another. It's not much, but it's enough to get us started. I'm going to say goodbye to the kids before we go. Let me know when everyone is ready."

Before heading back to the children, he pauses a moment to seek out Trista. Just a heartbeat, a sense of grounding, and then moving onward.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:46, Tue 19 May 2009.

Devlin just listens quietly, absorbing the information, but saying little. When the discussion is over they know no more than they did before, or little more.

"Right then, so it's off to Amber. Perhaps one of them will recognize the man's description. The time seems right."

The man turns to Cyan, "Shall we then?"

The little bird flies in and lands on Trista's shoulder. Tweets a short song and tilts its little head to one side to look into the woman's eye with one of its own. In its beak ämi holds a large, hairy centipede.

Trgiaob hums quietly for a few seconds, and then speaks, + THAT IS ALL THAT WE RECALL OF THE TALE.  IT HAPPENED BEFORE OUR OWN CREATION.  AS NOTED, HARBONAH COULD TELL YOU MORE, BUT YOU ARE PROBABLY RELUCTANT TO INITIATE THAT CONVERSATION. +

+ WHAT IS HAPPENING? +

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

Cyan shoots a quick glance Dorian's way as he returns to them, but her jaw tightens at the mention of his former spouse.  She shakes her head.  "No, I think not.  Deals with the infernal come at too high a price."  Thrusting away the burgeoning dark mood, she gives Chance a quick bow and a smile.  "Of course, Sir Chance.  That should be soon."

Devlin, on the other hand, seems impatient to leave.  Cyan well understands his feelings - high time they begin moving.  "Indeed, since Trgiaob -" another bow, this time to the archon, "- has no more to say on the matter at present..."  She shudders.  "No, I do not relish the thought of such a discussion."  A bitter smile flickers on her features.  "Hard feelings from an unexpected termination of employment," the Warrior mutters.

There is a pause as she once again raises James' card, but then..."Palanquet!"  Cyan shifts in preparation for defense, but the contact is familar - very familiar.  Apparantly some vestige of it remains, for a grip like steel latches onto her arm, and -

"Gather around, everyone!  We travel!"

It's hard to resist the strength of the pull, even for an instant.  Given the puller, one would have better luck with an avalanche.