"I can provide you with information and schematics related to the device, yes." Finndo confirms, "It isn't really that complex.  I suspect that the only reason they aren't more common is that very few people even know of the phenomena which prompted me to build it."

"As for where it's located... It's a plain of ice, hard as diamond, under a black sky where the sun, red like a cooling ember, always stands overhead, and it's so big it almost touches the horizon in every direction.  There is a pit in the ice, a hundred miles wide, and maybe ten or a dozen deep, and the flaw is at the bottom of that pit, with the device close by."

And in that moment a vibration passes through the floor, and a painting falls from the wall nearby...
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:30, Sat 10 July 2010.

"It may be workable, depending on how imaginative the guards are..." Roman muses.  "...But if they control the site, why haven't they destroyed the device ?"

The shaking penetrates his thoughts.  "But what was that ?"

"It felt like an earthquake.  But Amber isn't subject to those, so something else." Finndo responds, glaring at the fallen picture, "Perhaps the enemy is at the gates."

He starts to move, further away from the diplomat's rooms, "We should see if we can get more information.  Perhaps the throne room might be a good place to start.  We can talk as we go."

"I can think of a number of reasons they might keep it.  They might simply be curious about it," he laughs then, "but I think that's the least likely."

"They knew I was in there, so they might have been saving me for something and it was a convenient storage jar.  Or they may have been planning on trapping others inside it... a prison for enemies it isn't convenient to kill just yet.  Or a punishment for anybody they thought death might not be cruel enough for."

"Alright, we'll head for the Throne Room" Roman picks up the pace a little, just in case this is an attack.

"We've agreed that we don't want to use the device in the battle, but would Harbonah ?  If he were losing, and his forces were defecting to the opposition it might be tempting, if he could spare himself and his most loyal followers. "

"I believe Harbonah would use it, yes.  And the lives of loyal followers would not enter into his calculations.  Harbonah would use it, even if only to save himself."

The route to the throne room is crowded, and the vast majority of the people in the corridors seem to be in something of a panic.  The exceptions are few and far between, and seem to have little idea what is happening.

As Roman and Finndo make their way through the busier corridors, they hear much speculation regarding the tremors which have shaken the ancient structure, and a lot of the theories involve attacks.

Finndo stops suddenly, in chamber where five corridors meet.  He looks around, "Damn it!  I think we took a wrong turn.  It's been too long since I was here."

He looks into each of the five corridors, including the one they just came out of, and finally selects one, "This one.  I think I know where it leads, and we can take a shortcut of sorts, to put us back on the right track."

A few minutes later, the pair are standing at a deserted T-junction.  A corridor leads off at right angles to the main one.  The walls of that corridor are lined with hundreds of mirrors of all shapes and sizes and styles.

"This is the shortcut.  Try not to look at the mirrors.  They can be... tricky."

That's Amber for you.  Even the furnishings are treacherous.

"Lead on, then, if you will." Roman says, hoping that keeping an eye on Finndo will be sufficient distraction from the mirrors.  But maybe it might be a good idea not to be too focussed on that,...,just in case.

The pair walk into the hall of mirrors.  A thousand reflections shift and dance around them as they move.

Most worrying are the reflections of things which don't exist in the hallway.  There are, for example, no windows... so how can there be a reflection of Kolvir in one of the mirrors?  More importantly, how can it be a view from several miles out to sea?

In keeping with Finndo's warning, the two hurry on.  And almost run straight into a twisted, hunch-backed dwarf with the gleam of madness in his eyes.  Finndo stops, dead in his tracks, and backs up a little.  "Grandfather.  It's... good to see you looking so well."

The old man chuckles, "Don't lie, Finndo.  I know you kids think I'm strange.  Kids always think their elders are strange.  Who's your little friend?"  He shuffles closer to Roman, peering up at his face, "You look like a Chaosite to me, boy.  What's your name... Galstad?  Would you like an apple?"

Every Chaosian who wants to keep breathing knows not to accept food from strangers !  Especially insane strangers, from a House with a reputation for treachery.

Hoping that Finndo knows how to handle the dubious dwarf Roman speaks to him.  "Why don't you...introduce me to your, ah,  esteemed kinsman ?"

Dworkin takes a step forward, and Finndo moves away from him an exactly equal distance, but in such a way that it looks like no more than a casual shifting of weight, a turn to face Roman as he introduces him, "Grandfather... this is Roman." he does not give the House name, "He is from the Courts.  Roman... this is my grandfather, Dworkin.  He is also from the Courts, though it was probably before your time that he last lived there."

Politeness having been satisfied, Finndo starts to edge away, "If you'll excuse us, Grandfather, we are in something of a hurry.  We have important business with the King."

"With Oberon?" Dworkin moves faster than would seem possible, and grips Finndo's elbow, "I just saw Oberon in the cellars.  I shut him in a bottle, but he escaped when that strange blonde woman distracted me.  She told me she was the Unicorn, you know, but I didn't believe her.  Now he's out, and the... the thing is out too."

"I suggest you get away from here.  I can send you somewhere, if you want?"

Roman looks at Finndo before answering.  "No, thank you.  We really do have important business."  The man is clearly insane.  And prejudiced, too.  What's wrong with things ?

Finndo, out of Dworkin's eye-line, looks distinctly relieved at Roman's answer.

Dworkin, on the other hand, appears much more disappointed.  "Ah, well, so be it.  Try not to stay too long though.  Oberon released a... a... what did it call itself again?  Ahah!  Yes, an Archon.  Oberon released the Archon, and the blonde woman released the scre'ath."

"Between the two of them, Amber is probably doomed.  What the Archon doesn't destroy, the scre'ath will consume.  Good luck to you Finndo, and to you too, Roman of Galstad."

The old hunchback starts to shuffle away.  He gets no more than five or six paces, before stopping to peer into a mirror.  Then he reaches out, and his hand pushes into the glass to the wrist, and on until his arm, past the elbow is inside the mirror.

When he draws it back, he is clutching something small which seems to burn brightly.  He turns it in his hand, studying it, before holding it out towards Roman and Finndo, who can now see that it is a plain gold ring, with burning letters fading on its inner surface, "See this?  Cheap workmanship!  Shoddy, that's what it is.  The whole lot is already barely holding together, and the worst part is, he's tied so much of himself into it.  If his enemies destroy this, they destroy him.  Stupidity!"

He pushes it back into the mirror, and starts to wander off, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Finndo sighs, "That was lucky.  He could have forced his help upon us."

"I heard that!" a voice sounds from the region of Dworkin's retreating back.

"This way.  I wonder if what he was saying, about Oberon releasing an Archon, might have had something to do with the disturbance?"

"Isn't Oberon dead ?" Roman quietly asks, remembering the stories of the funeral.  Unless that was another Amberite trick, Oberon wouldn't be doing anything and any such talk is likely no more than the ravings of a lunatic. "Anyway, all the more cause for haste !" he adds, picking up the pace.

"Well, yes, I heard that he was dead." Finndo confirms, "And that's what the people I heard it from believed."

He pauses, gazing at one of the smaller mirrors, "Though even if he is dead, that doesn't prove that Dworkin didn't see him.  Or, at least, somebody that he thinks is Oberon."

Moving closer to the mirror, Finndo gestures towards it, "That's the place.  My device is there."

The mirror shows the place Finndo had described earlier.  A plain of ice under a black sky where the sun, huge and red, like a cooling ember, stands overhead, and almost fills the sky.  The ice drops suddenly, like a cliff, curving slightly away to each side.  In the distance, another cliff can be seen, and far below something burns with a cold blue brilliance, which twinkles like a star on a clear autumn night.

And there are Archons there, moving about with deadly purpose, following paths that only they can see.

Roman looks at the mirror.  This is going to be a tough one.  Surface and air approaches are out, unless the Archons are occupied or elsewhere.  Maybe wait until the battle has started ?   He studies the scene a moment longer.  Yes, this is not a solo mission, not even with Finndo along.  But there are good reasons to do it, if it can be done.  Allies can be found.

"Alright.  Let's see what's going on here" Roman says moving to continue down the hall.

Roman and Finndo continue through the hallway of mirrors, and exit at the far end in a narrow corridor.  Finndo gets his bearings, "Yes, this is right.  Just as I thought, but with that damned hall of mirrors you can never be entirely certain where it will come out.  This way."

A few moments later they ascend a short flight of steps and pass through a small anteroom where a group of people rise and bow as they enter, only to stand there, looking confused, as the pair go directly to the room's second door and exit into a broad passageway.

At one end of the passage, to their left, stands a pair of enormous doors, "That's it." Finndo confirms, "The Throne Room."

The two of them start towards the double doors, just as Fiona steps out of another side door and starts heading in the same direction.  The princess spots Roman, and calls out to him, "I have no idea what your companions have done to upset Dworkin, but I suspect that whatever it was caused that tremor."

"We just saw Dworkin.  He didn't seem angry." Roman offers.  "He seemed to be in quite a helpful mood, in fact.  Although he was going on about Amber being doomed because Oberon had released an Archon.  Oh, and something else had got out, too."  H watches for Fiona's reaction to see just how seriously she takes the crazed ramblings of the old man.  If there's likely to be any truth in them, she's in a better position to know.

"Dworkin is... " Fiona starts, then pauses  to choose her words, " ... not always clear on what is going on around him.  Oberon is dead.  I saw the body.  It's possible that Dworkin has mistaken one of your friends for Oberon.  He once spent an entire month calling me Mary every time I saw him, and that was years ago, before his mind slipped quite has far as it has now."

She continues towards the doors, "And his moods are erratic, to say the least."

Finndo nods in agreement, "Always been like that.  At least as far as I remember.  He's an old man, prone to changing his mind and his mood.  Unlike a lot of old men though, he can turn your head inside-out on a whim."

"And he's far worse now than when you were last here."

They approach the throne room doors, and the guards swing them open to reveal Random, pacing back and forth before the throne, deep in conversation with a number of people.  Most of them are dressed in the livery of Amber, and a couple of them wear armour.

ROman chooses to enter, but not speak.  Aside from general points on the etiquetter of apporaching a king, there is the chance of picking up something from the conversation.



OOC:  Sorry about the delay, and the short response...

Fiona doesn't stand on ceremony.  She walks directly towards Random, and the gathered crowd.  "As far as I can see, we aren't under any sort of attack at the moment.  The tremor, short lived as it was, originated somewhere below the castle.  There are any number of things down there which could have caused it, including a settling of the foundations, or a cave-in."

Random nods, smiling at the group around him, "There, you see.  As I told you, there is no evidence that we are under attack here, and there may be a perfectly natural explanation for the disturbance."

"I would suggest that, if you wish to help, you can do the most good by returning to your duties.  Immediately."  There is an odd intensity to Fiona's voice and, almost immediately, people start moving away from the King, and leaving the throne room.  Once they have all moved away, Fiona speaks again, "I believe that somebody has either walked the Pattern, which is unlikely, or encountered Dworkin and, possibly, annoyed him."

A gesture towards Roman and Finndo, "These two said they spoke to Dworkin recently.  From their report of the conversation, I'd say it's definitely more likely that our agents ran in to him downstairs."

Random grins at Roman and Finndo, "How is Grandfather?"

Fiona's question is slightly amusing.  "Your grandfather seemed to be... as you have described him.  And in a hurry to leave.  Something about the kingdom being doomed."

Random questions Finndo and Roman briefly regarding their encounter with Dworkin, and seems interested to hear that the old man is, apparently, wandering about in the upper regions of the castle.  "He doesn't leave the cellars much these days.  Hasn't for a few years, in fact."  The king seems less than amused to hear the reports that Dworkin is wandering the castle spreading rumours of impending doom.  The idea is, of course, even more worrying considering Dworkin's reputed ability to foretell the future.  "Fiona, take some guards and see if you can find him.  The last thing we need is Dworkin spreading panic."

He slumps down on the throne and studies Roman intently for a few moments, "How familiar are you with the Logrus?  Can you use it well?  I have an idea I was going to talk to one of the ambassadors about, but... well... it would take a few minutes to bring one of them here, and you're here now."

Roman rubs his chin, considering his answer.  "Well enough.  Maybe.  I don't know what you have in mind or if being this close to your Pattern will...interfere."  Or if ti will do worse than merely interfere.

Random nods, "There is that risk of course, and I'd understand entirely if you were to choose not to take it.  After all, the Pattern could also be damaged by a touch of Logrus.  What I'm interested in is using the Logrus to bring allies to Amber more quickly than they can get here themselves."

He smiles, a little sheepishly, "A lot of our defensive strategies relied on Trump to talk to allies, and to bring forces here to the castle.  Now, of course, the Trumps have been denied to us."

"I'm not talking about using the Logrus to drag, entire armies here from half way to Chaos... what I mean is bringing commanders here for strategy talks, pulling them in from Arden, or up on Kolvir.  Even if they had to make their own way back, it would still drastically reduce the amount of time it would take them to get here, get new orders, and get back to their troops."

Roman has to think on this one.  "It might be possible" he concedes.  "It might also be fatal to your commanders."  Aside from the strategic risks - the way back might be interdicted by hostile forces - if the Pattern were to interfere with the transport it's hard to tell what the outcome would be.  With a sigh, Roman decides to give a cuatious acceptance to the idea.  "Give me enough information to identify a few and I'll try a few experiments - short of bringing anyone to the castle."

Random nods his understanding of Roman's concerns, "Yes, there is that, of course.  Unfortunately, we came to rely on Dworkin's little gift... too much so, I suppose, and without it we're in a deep hole."

He sighs, and rubs his eyes, "But if there's no way to communicate quickly with our commanders, then we'll just have to make do with what we have."

Crossing to a table near the throne, one which clearly does not belong in this room, he starts searching through the numerous papers heaped upon it, until he finds one and holds it out to Roman, "I have a list of some of the local commanders and their last known locations here.