James stands in the shade donning his armour a piece at a time.  His armour is lighter and less cumbersome than metal full plate or field plate but checking the various buckles and seals still takes time.

James listens to what he can hear of the conversation with interest.  James had fond memories of his time with Jonnee and hoped he had been faring well.  He cocks an eyebrow at the mention of a sword.

"She's got you there." James grins with amusement, then calls to Cyan, "Say 'Hi' for me.  And tell him to look after himself, the going'll get heavier as he approaches Amber.  I'd brief him but I never got much of a briefing myself and the situation on the ground will've changed from what I can remember."

"I shall indeed send your soldier back, Jonnee Kay, and via the short path," Cyan replies.  "You shall have him forthwith.  The rest...James, who says hello, informs me that your observations regarding resistance dovetail with his own, and that it shall likely grow worse.  As for the sword, the army, the enemy commander..."  Cyan's brows draw together.  "May I see the sword?  I am curious."

Curious and worried.

Some of that dissipates as she glances first to Shaendra, then James.  "Yes...James is the correct of the twain.  Jonnee is a hero, and has been many times over.  Do not let him sell himself short to you, rogue that he is."

Berd cracks an eyelid open.  The Bridging opens further, offering James the capacity to join the conversation should he desire, even at a distance.  (Windwalker/Wolfbrother), I/Berd {greet/welcome} onceagain/beforetheend...It is with pleasure that I look upon you again, Jonnee Kay.  Would that you were here with us, to assist my daughter

{help/assist} (Heavyhand/Scarspirit) {keep/hold} (Cyandaughter) safe/alive from (selffoolishness)

in her plan.

"My thanks for the vote of confidence, Berd," Cyan sighs.  The drake blinks innocently.  "Jonnee, I would send you Crrurr'nokp now, if you desire."  She reaches out a hand for the brintizzi warrior.

"Some people say I'm a hero.  I don't think I am, I'm just a guy who got scared enough to take risks that others thought were crazy." the cheerfulness is gone for the moment, and Jonnee's expression and tone are deadly serious, "Sometimes it worked out, other times... not so much."

"So you and James are still travelling together?  That's good - it means I can stop worrying about the two of you separately."

He reaches for the hilt of the sword and draws it, a little awkwardly, "Here you go, Babe." a chuckle, "You should see the faces here, wondering why I've suddenly pulled a sword for no obvious reason."

The weapon is designed for one-handed use, with a cruciform hilt and a thirty inch, double-edged, wavy blade.  The hilt is fairly plain, though the disc-shaped pommel is inlaid with gold in a representation of the sun, but the blade is etched with a complex knotwork pattern which follows the curves of the steel.  "It's light enough, and looks nice, and it's got great balance, I think, but it doesn't compare to my own.  Do you want to hold it?"

For some reason that last question seems to strike him as funny, and he struggles to contain a laugh.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:52, Sun 01 July 2012.

Not the end yet, Berd.  Plenty of time for you and Jonnee to have eating contests later.  Which, of course, is why I'm busy strapping on the heaviest armour I have. {self-conscious amusement}

Hi Jonnee.  The situation on the ground at Amber was improving when we were there last, we've done our bit to sow doubt in the enemies' minds.  You may be better served by boldness than caution.  A strong attack from the rear may break the siege altogether and it suits the brintizzi fighting style.  Rely on Benedict to capitalise on any gains made.

I'd love to have you with us in this but our...confrontation will not be won by the strongest army.  Instead we have teamwork, creativity and the afore-mentioned foolishness.  Lots of fun.

James just barely avoids thinking 'What could possibly...'.

"Such is the path of a hero, Jonnee.  I understand most of them are frightened people reacting on the spur of the moment...and things turn out well, because they are even so capable of the proper decisions."  She smiles; it's a touch lopsided, but it's real.  "Such is the path of a hero," she repeats with a sigh, then brightens. "And you qualify."

She, herself, made the wrong choices.

"A beautiful weapon, Jonnee Kay," Cyan responds, studying it as best she can through the palanquet link.  Then she shoots him a narrow-eyed, ruby glance.  "Your sense of humor, Jonnee, has not changed...."  The dark look brightens.  "I can count on that, at least!  Yes, I suspect it is a touch inferior to yours, though would look better mounted over a fireplace."  This time the grin shows teeth.  "We could test the issue...?"

A laugh follows.  "But no, I jest.  Best we not hand it to and fro through the link, Jonnee.  I am concerned of setting the wrong vibrations through the Underflow; who knows what such a tool might bring?"  Her visage grows more serious as James inputs his own information, with a ghost of a smile for his witticism rregarding Berd.  "Ah, but while the armor does not suit you, James, so to speak -" he does better in evening wear, if her memory of a steamboat serves Cyan correctly "- it certainly keeps you safe."  The smile falters a touch at his mention of foolishness, then returns, and Cyan shrugs.

"Thus far, we have had few difficulties.  And James is well-acquainted with the strategic disposition in Amber."

"We should reach our destination in a couple of days, all being well.  Ran into a storm on the road that slowed us down quite a bit, but not for too long.  We've made decent time since then." Jonnee explains, sheathing the sword after Cyan has had a chance to study it.

"That calmed everybody down."

"I have every confidence in your teamwork, creativity and foolishness, James.  They've always worked well in the past.  If you say boldness will serve me better now, then I'll push on as fast as the army can travel, and hit the enemy hard.  My guess'd be that they're not really expecting me and the brints to come at them from over here.  Should be a nice surprise for them." he laughs.

"If you want to send the old lizard through... mine, that is, not yours, "I'll put him to work.  Can't have him getting lazy."

"Fantastic news, Jonnee Kay.  Do be careful, mind," Cyan states, unnecessarily.  She knows it, Jonnee knows it, but being Cyan...it has to be said.  She lets out a quiet laugh.  "I suspect any enemy would be surprised by your forces.  It is merely that..."

Drawing in a deep breath, she continues.  As she speaks, her topaz eyes darken, first into gold, then fully shadowing as her tone of voice and even diction shifts.  "Jonnee, Harbonah's forces have faced your soldiers before, which means they might adapt to your appearance.  And if they do, it'll be quickly.  They might come from below ground, right into the middle of your forces, instantly expanding even more quickly than the brintizzi can move.  They could bombard.  Or shift in from the Underflow.  Not that they will, mind, especially if there aren't any Archons in the army you face.  But if there are..."

The General shakes her head.  "Archons learn, cursed quickly when there's a need.  And I showed them how to fight your people."

Cyan blinks, and when her eyes open, they are shimmering sapphires.  "I merely...worry."  On her shoulder, Berd grumbles and turns in place.  "I have no doubt of your capabilities, no doubt at all."  The bard reaches out, as if to touch, then shakes her head.  "Yes.  I can send Crrurr'nokp through."

Cyan reaches out and lays a hand on Crrurr'nokp's shoulder.  The scales are laying flat, sheathing the barbs and spines beneath.  The reptile skin is smooth and warm to her touch.  Warmer than a human's would be, as if the brintizzi were running a fever.

Jonnee grins, "Hey, Crrurr'nokp.  Time to come home buddy."  His hand reaches and grasps that of the brintizzi, and he pulls, releasing his grip a moment later.

Shaendra gasps, "He's gone." and Jonnee laughs, "Oh, that surprised a few people.  Never seen so many brints get so spiky so fast."

"Great way to check their reflexes."

He sobers then, considering Cyan's words, "We've already seen them tunnelling.  Always catches a few by surprise, but we're learning to keep alert for them, and a bunch of brints with death rays always make them pay for trying it.  They learned early on that dropping out of the sky makes them an easy target, so they don't use that as much.  Mind you... " his cat's eyes look past Cyan, "Brakus?  Who was it that told us we were running into less Archons than we used to?  Saedon, that's right."

The young man's focus returns, "I have some non-brints with me now, troops that we picked up on the way.  Some of them are good with numbers.  One of those, Saedon Denor, he's been keeping a count of Archons and he says we're seeing less than we used to, and less than we should.  Makes him think they're doing something important somewhere else."

"I figured they were busy chasing you guys around."

Cyan shoots Shaendra an amused smile.  "Yes, Jonnee has taken him across the worlds.  What you see is not only for communication; it can be a gateway, as well."  She chuckles at Jonnee's words, recalling the brintizzi reactions to unexpected events.  "It is good that Crrurr'nokp has returned safely."

But she sobers at the news of the Archons.  "Not seeing as many...oh, yes.  Jonnee, the Seraphim recently made an attempt to destabilize the Myriad Worlds.  We blocked it, with the help of Right and his troops - the nephillim, you remember?  The attempts did require many of them acting in concert.  It's quite possible this is the reason you have been seeing less of them..."

She grimaces.  "I hope.  If not, then we are in for as much of a surprise as I hope to provide to the Seraphim."  One eyebrow cocks.  "I would tell you to move swiftly, Jonnee Kay, but that would be redundant.  You must link with the forces at Amber, I suspect, and hold that place until our plan takes root."

Curiousity swells in her.  "You have other troops?  Are they from the same alliance as the brintizzi?  Or other worlds harmed by the Seraphim?"

James finishes buckling on his armour and moves to join Cyan and Shaendra.

"There weren't as many Archons as I expected at Amber, either.  One, at least.  Perhaps a few, acting as commanders.  They can always bring in more as reinforcements, of course, but not so easily that close to Amber."

"I encountered three different types of ground troops but only one that would match the brints and they were few in number.  If you meet any horse-size hound beasts with scorpion-like tails remember they're sentient, they can teleport and they were deceived into swearing oaths to Harbonah.  That last point's just as important as the first two."

"Okay...  If we're not seeing them, and you're not, then where are they?  We captured some of their troops a few days ago, at least as we're measuring it.  It was just after I sent Crrurr'nokp to find you.  They were terrified of the brints and really happy to talk to me."  Jonnee runs a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful, "They told me some crap about their Archons fighting among themselves and one called... what was it?  Moradel?"  A quick glance to one side, then back again.  "Morael.  That was it, Morael.  Apparently he was sent to take over when the Archons started fighting each other.  He turned up one day with a swarm of assistants, and all the Archons who'd been in charge before were killed.  In front of the army, as a show of what happens to anybody who doesn't follow orders."

"Could that be where they've gone?  Too busy infighting to follow the plan."

Jonnee nods as James speaks, "The brints will be glad to run into something that can match them, though they'll probably complain if there aren't enough to go round."

"I think we've seen one of those scorpion-horse-dog things.  Spotted it drinking from a stream, but it didn't see us and it didn't attack so we left it alone.  Thought it was just an animal.  Glad we left now.  If they're only working for Harbonah because they were tricked, I'll watch out for more.  Next time I'll try to capture one and see if I can talk to it.  Maybe get one to switch teams."

Infighting?  Fighting with Right's forces?  Fighting with the rest of the nephillim?

"Perhaps they're overextended," Cyan breathes.  "They've moved quickly.  Maybe too quickly.  And with every success we achieve, cracks grow in their organization.  With every battle that goes against them, more lose faith in Harbonah, more become convinced they could do better.  Might that be it?"

She turns to the glittering rings of their escorts.  "Might that be it?"

Her lips press together.  "If that is the case, then strong Archons will eventually swim to the top to take command.  Some might be willing to do so for Harbonah.  Certainly one will be Harbonah himself.  The forces may fracture.  They may hold together.  But for this moment, they are stalled with the struggle for power."

Her lips twist slightly.  "Best case scenario, of course," the General notes quietly, her eyes caught between ruby and black.  Then the colour leeches back into them.

Gripping James' arm, she squeezes hard, then grins at Jonnee.  "We might have more time than I thought.  But we can't take that chance!  This must proceed as if we face the worst - that the reports are a lie and they plan something big, or that Harbonah will regain control of his forces within a short time.  But Jonnee...if you can garner information, please send it to me."  Closing her eyes, Cyan sighs.  "I know not how.  Perhaps I will use the palanquet regularly.  How I wish I had another of my own to send to you!"

At Cyan's question, the Archons move in to form a tight cluster.  They don't say anything, but they all hover close together...

Jonnee nods, "Best case.  Worst case, I suppose, is they're working on something.  Like this thing you mentioned, the one that you've been poking holes in."

"If we're lucky, and it is the best case, then maybe a bunch of pretenders will hold together just long enough to take out Harbonah, then fall apart."  He falls silent, thinking.

One of the danioti breaks away from the rest of the Archons to hover close to Cyan, + WE BELIEVE IT IS POSSIBLE THAT THE SERAPHIM ARE FIGHTING EACH OTHER.  IT TOOK ALL OF HARBONAH's WILL TO HOLD THE SERAPHIM TOGETHER.  IF HE IS DISTRACTED, THEN HIS ABILITY TO MAINTAIN  THOSE FRAGILE ALLIANCES WILL BE IMPAIRED. +

With a sudden snap of his fingers, Jonnee asks, "Do you have a card for James, or Berd?  If I take that, I can contact you through them.  Otherwise I'll just have to send Crrurr'nokp after you again."

"Harbonah's plans collapse?  Yes, it's possible," Cyan whispers, nodding along with the Archons.  "One cannot hold together an alliance based on fear forever.  Sooner or later, it will crack.  And there are many, many Seraphim who have their own plans, plans that do not necessarily coincide with Harbonah's."  Her topaz gaze flicks to their guardians.  "You truly believe this?  Ah, but you would not suggest if you did not.  Then it gives me hope."

She begins to shift from foot to foot, in lieu of pacing, in order to leave Shaendra contacted to Jonnee.  "With Harbonah fighting for control, it is possible that the danger's immediacy is reduced.  Somewhat.  True, he may have a contingency that might yet cause all manner of devastation, but so long as he believes he can regain control, he will continue in that direction."  A small, bitter smile touches her lips.  "And I am well-familiar with Harbonah's ego.  He will believe, to near the bitter end."

"Which means we still have time.  Time and a chance."  Closing her eyes, Cyan sways a moment in the breeze, considering.  Is it possible...?

"No," she decides.  "The plan must go forward.  The Seraphim as a whole are a threat - that threat must be dealt with."  A bolt of pain shoots through her heart, but she smiles.  "They still need to see."

Berd stirs, then snaps the air irritably.

"I do indeed have a free palanquet, Jonnee."  A crooked smile dances across her face and like a conjurer, she snaps out a card in her left hand.  On it, a lonely, exhausted soldier rests against his pack, his back to a tree, a long road ahead of him.

James.

"It might be of use to you when this is over, as well," she offers.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:42, Mon 23 July 2012.

James armour flexes slightly at the strength of Cyan's grip but he doesn't really feel its full strength.  He listens with some enthusiasm to Jonnee and Cyan speculate as to the cause of the recent dearth of Archons.

"We do know part of their something big." James pauses.

"Are we sure this link is secure?" James asks no-one in particular, before continuing, "Never mind, I guess they know we know already.  Cubes, Jonnee.  Of the hyper-dimensional, more than six sides, makes your head hurt variety.  Cubes as big as buildings.  Banglen-Yp destroyed one, and we believe a second one is compromised, but there are others.  We have forces working to prevent the placement of the rest.  I doubt there'll be any on your route to Amber but, on the off chance there are, they're priority targets - and you'll find some of your Archons."

"Going back to what I was saying, I'd be glad if you can persuade any of the hound-creatures to turn.  The one I fought seemed kind of noble and I was sorry to have killed it.  But it said they had sworn strong oaths to Harbonah.  I doubt any will be forsworn for all that they may agree with what you say."

Jonnee accepts the card from Cyan and laughs again, "Sorry... the way the brints react when I pull something out of thin air like that just doesn't get old."

"Yeah, I reckon it's too late to start changing plans now.  If we keep second-guessing ourselves we'll never get anything done."

He nods slowly as James describes the cubes, "Ah, the cubes.  I saw one of those a few weeks ago.  Small one.  Only had four sides, all places I didn't know.  I took it off its owner, put it in a bag with a rock, and dropped it into a deep lake, from a boat.  I wonder if that's why they were made - start them small and let them grow bigger and bigger until they're... well... ripe, I guess.  And they made a lot of them because they weren't sure if any would get lost or broken along the way."

"I'll watch out for any bigger ones, and see what I can do about them."

"And for those hound things.  At least give them a chance to talk before we do whatever needs to be done."

He looks out past James and Cyan, his slit pupils widening, "Listen I need to go, there's a scouting group coming back in, and I'll have to talk to them.  I've got James' card, so I can call you up if I need to, and you know where to find me."

"Take care, and good luck."

"I can only imagine, Jonnee Kay," Cyan laughs, recalling how the brintizzi used to react to sudden surprises.  She can't really imagine living life on such a hair-trigger level, but then...she wasn't born one of their people.  Still, it must be difficult at times for Jonnee, who is close to that himself.

James wisely decides to outline the Archons plot to Jonnee, and Cyan begins kicking herself (mentally).  Better that their friend know of the situation, that he might recognize something odd when he comes across it.  To be fair, I am beginning ot have trouble recalling exactly who already knows what, she considers.

The bard shoots a worried glance at Shaendra, wondering how their host is taking this vast amount of information, much of it troublesome.  "Shaendra, are you well?"  She grimaces.  "This must be difficult to absorb in some ways; Lord of the West, I often find myself struggling and I have been enmeshed in it from the start."

Jonnee admits to finding one of the cubes, and Cyan grimaces.  "Your analysis makes sense, Jonnee Kay.  If you can let Berd know which world it was on - perhaps a glimpse of your memory - he can return later and deal with it properly.  It was a fine way to deal with it on the short notice, to be sure; I merely feel that such things should be destroyed forever.  Even should we thwart the Seraphim's plot, they are a danger."

A sigh follows, and Cyan cocks her head to the side.  "It has been a pleasure talking to you again, Jonnee Kay.  Please take care of yourself."  She dithers a moment before the card, glancing first at James, then Shaendra to see if they have aught futher to say.  When they finish, she raises the card up higher, and Berd peers into it from her shoulder.

Cyan's smile wobbles slightly, but it holds.  "Good luck, Jonnee Kay.  And fare thee well."

Her palm passes over the card, and it returns to a portrait.

The connection is severed, and Jonnee is gone, for now.  Shaendra stands in silence for a long moment, brow furrowed, and then she speaks, "That was... interesting.  I have never seen anything like that before, and I thank you for showing me.  That man is a soldier, of some sort? Or at least he leads an army of creatures like your friend who was here?"

"I did not understand every word that was said, but I did grasp enough to get a general idea of their meaning.  The war, from his point of view, goes well, and he is close to his destination.  Wheels, like the ones you brought with you, are the enemy, but they also have other servants of various kinds.  They make devices to aid in their war, and those devices can be destroyed or otherwise removed from the field of battle, though doing so must be handled carefully."

She shakes her head slowly, "But I can tell you, I do not believe I've seen anything which fits the description - a cube with the wrong number of faces - I would remember if I had."

"A soldier, of sorts," Cyan chuckles, knowing how Jonnee would react to the sobriquet.  "He never wished to be a leader, which makes him the best sort."  She lets out a long sigh.  "The brintizzi probably think of him as a older warrior - slow-moving, but cunning and experienced."  The idea of Jonnee being 'slow' is ludicrous...except when compared against his warriors.

She nods along with Shaendra's summation.  "That is the meat of it," the bard murmurs.  "And Shaendra - if you find a cube, do not use it.  It offers other worlds to explore, a dreadful temptation, but every world to which it is taken fuels it, and it becomes an instrument of destruction for the Seraphim's plans.  Bury it.  Throw it into lava.  But do not use it.  I beg you."

Her hands rise to scrub at her eyes, and suddenly the words begin to spill out.  "The war has not gone well until now.  Until recently, it has been a scramble, a desperate attempt to discern the Seraphim's plans, to stall their advances, to win space to think before they end...everything.  World after world fell to them.  They poisoned realities, tore them apart.  We couldn't keep up, we couldn't -"

Her teeth snap shut and Cyan covers her face for a moment, breathing in.  On her shaking shoulder, Berd croons quietly, pressing his head against her ear.  Years, now, she has run, fought, burned, and drowned, and suddenly Cyan is so very, very weary.

How long ago did she step onto the docks of Cadiniagart beside Lexy, Morgan, Duncan, and Tander, with Ares as their dark shadow?

A shudder rolls through her body, and she pulls her hands away.  No tears, only topaz eyes; pale topaz, altogether too pale.  Fear shines in them, despite her smile.  "Now, we have hope.  We have allies of strength, we have foiled their plans, the enemy's forces fracture.  One push may be all we need to end this.  One push."  For an instant, rainbows sparkle in her diamond eyes, then they shade into deep amythest as the colour rushes back to her cheeks.  Letting out a small sigh, Cyan absently scratches Berd's forehead.  "End it for the better of both sides - ours and the Seraphim," she whispers.

Shaendra signifies her understanding of all that Cyan tells her.  About Jonnee, and the cubes, and her hopes for the war.  Two of the green skinned people approach, one bearing a basket of provisions - fruit, something resembling wild onions, nuts, still-warm bread - and three full water-skins.  The other carries blankets, tied into bundles with a bright green cord.

All of this they lay on the table before Cyan, James and Banglen-Yp.

"I promised you things to help you on your journey.  I can offer you only what you see here, and the thoughts of myself and my people.  Each night, and every morning, we will think of you as we commune with those who watch over our world.  With luck, they will consider you worthy of their protection too."

The woman bows, "Once again, I thank you for returning the memories of Otandal to his home."

James clasps Cyan's shoulder gently as she struggles with the memories of battles past.  The war against the Archons seems to have been going on forever.  James no longer has an accurate count of days but certainly has has fought in wars that lasted longer but this struggle has been particularly taxing, characterised by extremes of emotion and desperate intensity - and Cyan has been fighting for longer than anyone.

James steps forward to accept Shaendra's gifts, as much to give Cyan a moment to recover as for any other reason.  "And once again we must thank you for your hospitality.  The warmth of your welcome and your generosity will stay with us for a long time and we are grateful for we may have as much need of happy memories as of blankets and fresh bread."

"My thanks, Shaendra," Cyan whispers in response, bowing as the gifts are offered.  "Your food will sustain us and I hope your prayers will guide us to the correct path."  She glances up and back with a small smile for James as his powerful hand comes down on her shoulder, and takes the moment he offers to pull herself together.

A long journey indeed; one that started for James many years before he fell into this quest.  She cannot imagine a life of conflict; for all that this one has stretched, for all that she watched the lands of Balar sink into the sea following the War of Wrath, the bard has lived most of her life in peace.  Reaching up, she rubs her shoulder - the one without the small dragon - and breathes out in a long, slow exhalation.

The hardest thing is yet to come.

Stepping forward as James offers his own exquisite thanks, she nods her head in agreement.  Fitting, their words.  "Memories."  She cocks her head, her rusty hair falling about her shoulders, thin threads of grey winding through what was once waves of brilliant copper.  "Hold to your memories, Shaendra."  Her smile grows wistful.  "You never know when they might come in handy...or for what."  For an instant, her sapphire eyes sparkle in the forest light.  "The happy ones, most of all.  I think...I think my memories of this place are some of my most favourite, and I shall treasure them."

For a moment, she feels her body drawn through the steps of a dance by strong, gentle arms, and sees falling motes of light reflected in dark eyes.  Yes.  Bolstered by her own spirit, some memories will prove stronger than others; those will be the ones which turn the tide.

Berd eyes the food hungrily, then chirps at Shaendra, a ringing chime that echoes from the trees as if struck from crystal.

"So."  The bard glances about, at Banglen-Yp, then at her escort of tiny wheels, and finally to James.  "Is there aught else before we leave this sanctum?"  Back to Shaendra.  "Or do we take our leave of our noble, generous hosts?"

The Archons seem anxious to move on.  As might be expected from creatures to whom motion is like breathing, they find it difficult to remain in one place for long.  The danioti, still no larger than coins, skim across the surface of the now-cleared table in what appears to be a carefully coordinated dance.  They leave the table carved with a pattern which resembles stylised leaves.

Banglen-Yp claps, applauding their effort, before turning to Cyan and shaking her head, "Nothing more."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:48, Sat 18 Aug 2012.

James quickly checks his equipment (an old habit that) before replying, "I'm as ready as I'm going to get.  Let's go."

There may be nothing more to do, here, but there is still much to think about.  James considers briefly whether the daniotis' parting gift makes them less likely to be, or include, the traitor.  It is a generous gift, in its own way, and an expression of creativity, which James takes to be a good sign but hardly conclusive.  The fact that they co-ordinate their movements to such effect suggests joint planning, which would be a risk for a traitor, unless they were all traitors.  James pinches the bridge of his nose and screws up his eyes.  Such thinking could save a man's life, or give him a powerful headache.

Goodbyes are offered and returned, and Berd raises his head to give a warbling cry.  The world recedes, and they are tumbling into the Underflow.  The currents swirl around them, buffeting them and almost driving them off course, but Berd has a destination in mind.

A place which fits Cyan's crieria - somewhere where the Archons will come, somewhere that has meaning to them, where words which are spoken will be long remembered, simply because of the place where they are spoken.

So they fall through the Underflow, and James looks around... to see himself looking back at him.  Like a mirror which doesn't mimic his own movements.  More than a mirror... a hall of mirrors.  All of the reflections moving individually.

The remaining Banglen-Yp giggles, and waves an arm to encompass the duplicates, before addressing the original, "That's you all over."

The tides of the Underflow grow more erratic, more violent, and Berd struggles to hold them to their course as something comes into view in the dimness ahead and below.  An orb of flame, burning fitfully as streamers of fire are torn from it and dragged away by the things which inhabit the Underflow.  Things which have come to feed on the corpse of a dead world.

The Archons grow, until they are yards in diameter, spreading out to provide a defensive perimeter.  Though who knows if even they can prevail, should the vast, dark denizens of the Underflow choose to attack.

And then Berd gives a clarion call, and they are falling again, surrounded by a glittering bubble of force, and they come to rest on a mountain of pure diamond, on a world of terrible storms and blazinging earth, where clouds of flame rain down ash and burning cinders.  Rivers and lakes of lava boil and churn far below.  If Berd's concentration should falter, it is doubtful that he, Cyan or James would live long enough to notice.  Banglen-Yp... might.  The Archons probably would.

This, then, is Hosk.  Once a nursery for the Archons, until Dorian obliterated all life there in a storm of fire, magnetic forces and radiation beyond even the survival capabilities of Archons.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:49, Sat 18 Aug 2012.