Eastwards of the castle, one passes through a thicket of blue spruce. Next to ponderosa pine, blue spruce makes up the most of Kolvir’s tree life.

Then Kolvir slopes gently upwards, and one is alongside the northeast wall of the castle.

More nearby, though, is a trellised area, and the walkway through it leads to a series of formal gardens. They are very much like the gardens found in eighteenth-century Japan (in the Earth Shadow), and Benedict, who tends them, is trying to expand them further.

Directly behind the castle is a park-like area of benches and walks. The royal family comes often to stroll, to think, even to become inspired. It's also where Gerard tries to get his football games going.

Beyond the walks is a rather small artificial lake. Past it, Benedict has begun another Japanese garden.

The first was more of a (rectangular) zen garden... the new one is more circular, slightly reminiscent of the Pattern in the way its paths are laid out.

Beside it, to the west, is a formal garden of the kind that was popular in eighteenth-century England in the Earth Shadow, very proper and prim.

Around the northwest corner of the castle, to the west side, one can see that to the southwest are some sort of ruins.

Below, on a grassy hill, are the stables.

Facing the southwest wall of the castle is an area filled with flowers, trees, and gorgeous shrubs. Here Flora can smell some of the many flowers she loves from the Earth Shadow...
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:45, Tue 09 Mar 2021.

  It is in the flowery garden facing the southwest wall that Lance takes his breakfast on the tenth hour of morning of the seventh day.  He eats in quiet reflection, seated on a small bench while watching the hummingbirds and bees and the butterflies as they dance among the flowers.  They remind him of a certain cousin, and the metaphor seems to fit.  Oh, lucky flowers!  All too soon though the fluttery things move on to another bright bloom, leaving the first one alone.

  There he sits for quite some time, eating his breakfast, taking in the sights and smells.  He trims a handful of suet from around the breakfast meats, to save for the bird by his window.  His 49ers sweatpants and red t-shirt are slightly incongruous with the bastard sword and dagger that he wears, and the colors do attract a butterfly or two, but they quickly realize that he is not the flower they sought!and leave him for sweeter nectar elsewhere.  Balladflies, he begins calling them in his mind.  The word seemed to fit them nicely.  They were beautiful, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and their appearance brings joy to the heart until all too soon they flit away.

  He hears bells chime the eleventh hour.  Nearly time to go change and clean up, so as to be presentable for his one o’clock lesson with Flora.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:21, Wed 10 Mar 2021.

  Lance lingers a bit, enjoying the sights and scents of the garden before returning his plate and taking his suet offerings back to his room to leave for the bird.  A distant bell chimes the noon hour.  Time to prepare.

Walking down the hallway of the castle,  Ariadne saw Lance.    She gave him a wave and walked over to him.
"Lance!!  How are you?"

  Lance stops, smiles, “Hey Ari, I’m good.  How are you, and how is the acclimation to Amber going?  Do anything interesting lately?”

Ariadne smiled wryly
"I think i am.  I'm finally healed up from getting stabbed by those grey jerks, a week ago.  And I've been training with Jon and Jade with some castle combat experts.   And I'm planning to try to walk the pattern in a few days."
She cocked her head with a half smile
"I've been hoping to catch up with you.  You're the only 'fellow Earthican' I have around here.  As far as adapting to Amber, I'm still feeling like I'm on a vacation in a really immersive theme park.  I'll admit that I'm getting a bit homesick for Earth on occasion "

In reply to Ariadne (msg # 6):

  Lance chuckles.  “Flush toilets and endless hot showers are the things I miss, but other than that, I’m looking at putting down some roots here.  Guess that I never felt like I fit in back on Earth, and while Amber hasn’t been easy so far It feels more like home. “

  He nods when Ari talks about her upcoming walk.  “Jade told me that you and Jon are both gearing up for it, and asked me if I would be there to cheer you two on when you walked it.  Told her I would, but at the same time, I think it’s a potentially added distraction that could be dangerous..  I can tell you, it was a bitch and a half.  Almost didn’t make it, and if I had had anyone else there I might not have.   I should’ve waited until I was fully healed up before I did it, but I really needed to just get it done, one way or another.  Anyway, I plan on being there when you do it, unless you don’t want me to.”

Ari nodded and smiled.
"Yes, a nice hot bath can be fun if you have company, but when you're alone it can just get tedious and repetitive.  Especially when I know that some poor servant has to lug the water up there in the first place.   I always feel a little guilty about that."
She looked thoughtful.
"I definitely want you there, Lance.  Why wouldn't I want that, big guy?  We all need to support each other, after all.   In fact, I'm trying not to not be annoyed that you didn't wait for us.  But I'm sure you had a good reason.  But our little crew of cousins all need each other,  surrounded on one side by murderous grey dinks, and on the other side by royals who are all older than stone."
The short haired woman grinned playfully.
"I'm almost embarrassed that this place, with so few entertainment options and distractions, has kept me from hanging with you for so long.  I apologize for not trying to grab you for a heart to heart before this.  I'll admit that I was perfectly at home on Earth, but i'm happy to talk to you about our transition.  We might be the only people who really understand each other.  I keep getting blank stares from Jon and Jade, though I've been working to teach them Earth idioms."

  “Having servants is pretty freaky, I gotta admit, and the lugging water in and out has been a project I’ve been working on.  Playing with designs for workable plumbing, but have to go back to the drawing board for a bit.  Turns out that any kind of drilling holes in the castle walls might screw up the castle’s magical defense system.  So, I’ll rework it somehow.  If you’ve got any ideas, I’d love to hear them.  Thinking a manual pump might work somehow.”

  Lance let’s out a sigh. “Well, let’s just say that Jon and I aren’t on great terms, and it’s really unlikely that we ever will be.  He and I had a bit of a blow out the other night, and it got pretty ugly... ended with him saying he’d declare me his sworn enemy if I showed up at the walk... stuff like that.   I just don’t want anything to do with him.   I know that he and Jade are really tight, and you’re pretty close to them both, as is Ballad, so it makes it really awkward for me to be around the group.   You all were having fun together and I was not fitting in at all.  To top that off, I pretty much wrecked any possibility of a relationship I might have had with Ballad, so I’m mostly just taking time to work on my own stuff and finding my center.  But hey, been making good use of the time.  Went out into shadow and killed a couple of grey men, at least.”

  Another sigh.  “When I’m with the group I feel like the fifth wheel, and just don’t fit in.  Maybe it’s the way I grew up, always the odd man out, used to being alone even in a crowd.  I’m working on it, but so many changes and adjustments at once, and it’s a lot to take in.   That’s why I had to go do my walk.  I needed some space and perspective.  I needed to know that I really was Flora’s son.  I needed to start proving my worth and earning my keep, and I really needed to get away from Amber, and Ballad, and everything here until I could start proving myself.”

Ariadne nodded thoughtfully about the plumbing problem.
"I'll admit that I've never bothered to learn how plumbing worked on Earth, where expert help was just a phone call away, let alone how to install one here in 'Ye Olde Times Manor', so the only ideas I have is some kind of Warner Brothers style water tower on the roof or something.  But I suspect these royals are all about aesthetic and old fashioned values or whatever. "

When Lance talked about himself and Jon, as well as Ballad, she looked shocked and annoyed, and pinched the bridge of her nose in obvious frustration, and sighed in an effort to not say something she'd regret.
She looked at her cousin intensely, with an expression that was genuinely supportive, but also filled with an urge to smack the tall blond man.
"Wait....what!?!?!   You and Jon are...'sworn enemies'???  What kind of backwards medieval bullshit is that???  We're from Earth, Lance, we don't have 'sworn enemies'!  Well, except for gluten and telemarketers, maybe.   What happened, exactly??  Look, you and Jon (who I apparently ALSO have to grab by the scruff of the neck for a long chat about macho bullshit), are entitled to your own feelings and emotions, or whatever, but unless you've forgotten, we kind of ALREADY have 'sworn enemies', remember???  Those grey dinks who tried to murder us all for no good reason.  We need to stick together.   Look, I've heard that the older generation was constantly at each other's throats, as befitting a bunch of spoiled, entitled royals, but WE need to be different, dammit! "
She sighed again, putting a hand on Lance's shoulder.
"And what's this about Ballad, now??  I had heard rumors that you had some kind of a crush on her, but that's not that big a deal.  God knows that all of our cousins are absolutely gorgeous.   Hell, I don't even like guys and even I was impressed with you and Jon.  We're not a bunch of college kids having childish squabbles here.  This is a serious place.  We can get past our differences and learn to live together.   Hell, we're all flawed people, after all.  Me and Jade almost came to blows when I first met her, but we've gotten past it by accepting our differences and dealing with it. "

Ariadne looked Lance in the eyes, earnest and sincere.
"I'm sorry that I've been too distracted with my own personal drama to pay attention to what's been going on with you, but I'm here now.  Talk to me, man.  What can I do to help?"

  "I really don't know what was up with Jon the other night, and I'm sure he'll tell it differently than I will tell you now.  I was on my way back to my rooms coming from the library, looking forward to a quiet night of reading and healing up from having the shit beat out of me first by the Pattern and then some giant corrupted venomous bat-squirrel thing out in shadow, and then two grey men out there.  Anyway, as I'm about to enter my room, Jon pops up and wants to go out drinking and celebrating me having walked the Pattern.  As I was still carrying some wounds, and definitely not in a particularly celebratory mood, I told him I wasn't feeling up to it and suggested we do it another time.  He got kinda insistent about it, and when I refused a second time he got himself all puffed up, poking me in the chest, insulting me and calling me a coward and looking like he wanted to start swinging at me and shit.  Then he goes and challenges me to some half-assed duel at dawn to coerce me into falling into line with his wanna-be commander-in-chief training regimen bullshit.  I told him that my blades are reserved for the enemies of Amber, and that I won't draw steel against any member of this family unless they are a threat to the kingdom, and certainly not for some stupid-ass duel to massage his already over-inflated ego.  He then really fuckin' lost it and starts saying that if I show up at the Pattern walk he'll consider me his sworn enemy and an enemy of amber and threatening me, blah, blah, blah.  I just walked away."

  Lance shakes his head, laughs a little.  <Blue>"You know, when I first met him, I thought he was all that and a bag of chips.  I was a little envious of him, especially the way Ballad seems drawn to him.  Eventually I realized that he's a player.  He may not even be aware of it, or trying to be like that, but he definitely is, and it's not the type of person I want to be around.  Every time he opens his mouth a compliment or a dozen drops out, and it just smacks of insincerity.  It's like he's hitting on  everything that moves, and buying lavish gifts, and then he comes across more like a greasy used car salesman.  Looking back at a lot of the things he's said, I think there's a lot of backhanded compliments and condescending bullshit."

  "I was still a little annoyed with him for trying to buy drinks for the guys who insulted Jade in the bar instead of smacking them.  Then he goes all nuts on me when nobody else is around to see it because I told him I didn't want to go drinking with him that night.   Next day he's slipping apology notes under my door and saying he's sending one to the King to put into the official history.  I think in the hallway that night he let slip his true colors thinking he's better than everyone because his dad was King, and expecting everyone to do what he says, and heaven forbid if somebody doesn't like him, he'll try to find a way to get their blood on his sword.  I don't like him, I don't trust him, and I really just don't want to be anywhere near him.  If it was just him making the walk, I might not bother going, but I'll be there for you, and because I promised Jade that I'd go.  I know how bad it can get on the Pattern, and if anyone gets stuck or in trouble out there I'll walk that damned thing again to go help them.  I swore to protect the family.  Even shithead, but dear God, please don't tell him that.  If he wants to declare me his enemy, that's his fucking problem, not mine."

  A long sigh. "Then of course, the thing with Ballad.  That one is totally on me, my fault entirely, not hers at all.  It's not just a crush.  I fell for her like I've never fallen for anyone.  Hard, like the devil being cast down out of heaven kind of hard.  The minute I met her.   I've never felt anything like it.  I mean, I've dated, had a few girlfriends, but it always felt so empty, and then along comes Ballad and it's the most intense I've ever felt about anyone.  Shit, I even searched genealogy records to see if marriage between half cousins was a thing, and turns out it is here.  Anyway, so I'm head over heels, and it's not at all mutual.  Like I was trying to say in the bar, I got shot down, crashed and burned and exploded in the wreckage.  Too many pitchers to articulate it though.  And I see Jon making his moves on Ballad despite the fact that he has Jade falling swooning all over him... and Ballad is just being Ballad, and she and I are on very different wavelengths, and I'm just not what she wants, and anything that even reminds me of her hurts like hell and I'm just trying to work through it all.  So, now you know why I've been keeping myself scarce.  I'm not trying to be a jerk, although I suppose it probably comes across that way.  It's just that I'm trying to cope with a lot of shit, and I don't want to be a downer on anyone's good times, or have anyone feel responsible for me, so I'll just keep foraging out into shadow to work on the grey man issue on my own."

Ariadne nodded, eyes narrowed as she thought, trying to take in every detail of what was turning out to be an incredible soap opera, even by her standards.
She sighed with a wry grin and shrugged.
"I can understand one of these people rubbing you the wrong way.  I mean, these Amber types are just...odd.  Like, foreign even by our standards.  And Jon is from, like, the Fairy Realm or something equally weird, like the Feywild, or whatever.  So it's important not to take them too seriously.
No offense, but it sounds like we need to get you two in a room together to hash this out.  It sounds like he was just being an emotional idiot, and perhaps he's learned his lesson, but you need to not treat him like an Earth person who has consistent motivations.  Like I said, these people are weird, but they're not our enemies.
We can't 'deal with issues on our own'.  That's what the grey jackasses want, so catch us out alone and pick us off one by one.   I mean, I'm happy you managed to kill a couple out there, but we can't count on that being the case every time. We need each other, Lance, and it's dangerous to believe otherwise."

She shrugged again.
"I don't know about him being a 'player', but that's probably just his weird culture speaking.   Certainly our cultures from Earth can seem a bit odd to these people.  Jade rubbed me the wrong way a few times before I just came to the conclusion that she has a weird way of looking at things.   This is a different world, like, literally, with different rules and ways of doing things.  So we can't limit our reactions to it as if they were Earth folks."

Then she smiled uncertainly.
"As far as Ballad, I'm not sure what to tell you.   I mean, we haven't had a chance to get to know each other, so I don't know your story and trauma, but I understand falling in love and feeling empty inside.   I remember falling head over heels for a stunt coordinator when I first started working in Hollywood, out of college.  I did some clumsy flirting and was told in no uncertain terms that I was barking up the wrong tree.  I was embarrassed and felt like crap.  But, you have to get over it and move on.
But still, you can't let something like that, as mortifying as you might think it was, keep you separated from the rest of us.   Ballad is possibly one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, and I've worked with professional movie stars, so I'm sure she is more than accustomed to men swooning over her.  You have to forgive yourself and move on.  Sometimes, these things don't work out.  That's life, my friend.  It sucks, but we can survive it."

  Lance cocks his head and listens while Ari talks about reconciling things with Jon and the dangers of the grey men.

  "I think putting Jon and I in a room together would be a bad idea, really.  At least anytime soon.  Maybe best if there's some time to let it all scab over, y'know?  Right now though, I've got too much more important stuff to focus on than Jon. I learned a little bit about what his father was like, and I didn't much like that either.  Apparently he and Corwin had some kind of fight that left Corwin wounded and incapacitated, and so he wouldn't get blamed for possible fratricide he dragged him out into shadow to Earth and left him to die in the middle of the Black Plague.  Then there's the burning his eyes out when Eric crowned himself King and Corwin was his prisoner thing.  While we're not our parents, a lot of times we inherit a lot more than we realize from them."

  "The grey men are a real threat, I know, and the danger they represent isn't lost on me.  On my last trip out I learned that they don't speak, ever.  They communicate with some kind of telepathy between each other, and they're hard-core fanatics that would rather die than fail, and their goal is capturing us, rather than just killing us.  I don't know why just yet, but it smacks of possible family involvement.  Turns out that our family is actually descended from the Courts of Chaos.  Grandpa Dworkin and the Unicorn broke with them and founded Amber, and they hate us to this day for it.  Now we've got our cousin Merlin, Corwin's son, on the throne over there but he's AWOL supposedly.  Add to that cousin Rinaldo, Brand's son, is the King of some Golden Circle Kingdom named Kashfa.  He killed uncle Caine as retribution for Caine killing Brand who was responsible for your mom's death and giving our ancestral relations a way to reach Amber via something called the Black Road."

  Lance takes a deep breath.  "Now I don't know how Rinaldo wound up as a local King, but apparently there's an outlaw named Dalt who is on Amber's number one most wanted list running around freely in Kashfa and Rinaldo just lets him, so we've potentially got trouble from there too.  Cap it off with an uncle who once had his own designs on the throne, Bleys out there somewhere, and we've got a real cluster."

  "The earth perspective is somewhat different from here, I admit, but still, insulting people, threatening people, trying to coerce them...bad behavior is still that, local customs or not.  You asked about how I grew up?  Well, when my mom was pregnant with me she ran into a family member in a place where she absolutely didn't expect.  It freaked her out so badly that she hid away until I was born and placed me in a Catholic orphanage in Brooklyn so that I wouldn't be found.  That's where I grew up.  It was a place nobody would look for a scion of Amber.  The nuns had no idea what they had, and working from their messed up world view they thought I had the devil inside me because I was different.  Every time I manifested my strength or speed they'd beat me, then I'd heal incredibly fast and it made them even more sure of it.  I had to play it down as much as possible just to keep under the radar.  I was never adopted out.  Saw kids all around me go, but never me.  I thought there was something horribly wrong about me that nobody wanted me. I lived there until I was old enough to get a job at sixteen and emancipate."

  Lance rubs his eyes at the memories. "They had taken us to a renn-faire once when I was little.  I loved it, especially the swordplay.  I studied it, and it was my only real escape from my reality.  Read every book and reference the NY library had about it.  Forms, styles, all of it.  Practiced it up on the roof by myself when I could get up there.  When I got out on my own they gave me two hundred bucks and wished me luck, said they'd pray for me.  I lived in a cardboard box in an alleyway for two months, worked my ass off as a dishwasher and pizza guy, bought an old beater station wagon from my boss.  That was my big upgrade in living conditions.  School in the morning, work every afternoon and night...sixteen hours a day on the weekends, saved everything, bought a used pop-up trailer.  After I graduated high school I got my first gig at a renn-faire, quit the job in the city and started working the faire circuit full-time.  Worked my ass off there too, eventually getting into the bigger performing roles.  Got noticed, did some Hollywood stuff doing swordfight choreography.  I finally got rid of the station wagon, got a slick little pickup truck, fixed up and repainted the trailer and sword fighting was my whole life until the night the grey man showed up with Flora hot on his tail.  All modesty aside, I'm really fucking good with a sword.  Might be the only thing I'm good at, and I've really gotten used to being alone.  Thirty years of not fitting in and being the odd man out.  Now suddenly I'm a Prince with this huge family and servants and ancient ancestral enemies. It's gonna take a while to break a lifetime of habit."

  He smiles a little wistfully.  "So Flora brings me here, I meet Ballad, really fall in love for the first time ever, and because I'm a dumb-ass go and get my heart broken.  Again, not gonna be a quick fix, and it's gonna take me some time to work through it, and I'm doing the best I can.  I had originally thought about vanishing off into shadow forever and putting it all behind me, but it's not the answer.  So instead I'm just working on trying to improve myself, feel better about things, and learn some new stuff while working for Random and trying to deal with all of it."

  A bell chimes the quarter hour.  "Speaking of which, I have an appointment with my mom coming up, so I gotta get moving.  Not sure how long I'll be, but probably all afternoon.  Maybe you and I can catch up more tomorrow morning, or something?"

Ari made a sympathetic face and nodded,  her expression full of sympathy, though her eyes were still a bit guarded.  She'd heard lots of hard luck stories in Hollywood,  after all, and not all were true.    But she gave Lance the benefit of the doubt.
"I'm so sorry,  my friend.   I'll admit that I had it a bit easier than you while on Earth.  I was also taught by creepy catholic nuns.  But mine were at a private school, so the abuse was more subtle and watered down. And i had my father in the picture.  I'm still annoyed at him for keeping this from me, but at least he was there.
And while I've also felt like an outsider for most of my life, I managed to find other oddballs and miscreants to hang out with,  so i suppose I can't understand that level of loneliness and what it might do to a person."

She shook her head thoughtfully
"But be careful about painting someone with the proverbial 'sins of the father'.  We're American,  remember?  The whole point of our country,  in theory,  was so we could be ourselves and not our parents.  Especially since Jon, like most of us, never knew his birth parent growing up.
And while heredity might work weirdly here, like how i seemed to have inherited a love of axes, don't read too much into it. "

Ariadne put up her hands in a gesture of reconciliation.
"I get this urge sometimes to 'fix' people.  I used to be sort of good at it on Earth.  Or, at least,  being confident in my physical Aptitude,  i was never intimidated by people,  which helped some people who had severe issues.  But in this case, I won't presume to know what's best for anyone.   Just know that I'm here for you, Lance, if you ever need a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on, either metaphorically or literally.   Please don't let another week go by without checking in,  okay.   I know that it feels like time sort of stands still here, but a lot can happen in a week in this crazy place."

Perhaps a bit impulsively,  Ariadne leaned forward and tried to gently hug Lance, not something she often did with men, though she'd stop if she sensed he was uncomfortable.

In reply to Ariadne (msg # 14):

  Lance returns the hug with one arm, afterward holding up the handful of suet that he had been keeping well away from Ari's clothing with his other arm in explanation.  "It's for a bird that nests near my window."

  "I know, I should probably give Jon more leeway, and maybe I would have had things not cosmically imploded with Ballad like they did.  Trust is earned though, and he took a lot of steps backward on that road with me the other night.  He made no effort to hide about how poorly he thinks of me.  You know, that first night here I had horrible nightmares about the two of them together, you know, together....and they were laughing at me.  Probably more my own insecurities than her jumping at the chance to go riding alone with him in the moonlight.  It's just that I'm having some real trouble finding my footing, and the incident at the tavern as well as any others probably made you all look at me as damaged goods too.  I suppose I am...well...more like a work in progress.

  Lance prepares to go.  "Thanks, Ari.  It means a lot.  I'm gonna be around, at least for a few days.  I already have a mission lined up helping aunt Fiona with what she's working on, so probably be out of touch for a while then.  Make sure you get some good rest before that Pattern walk though.  I went into it an emotional wreck, still carrying some wounds, and I nearly died.  It's a real bitch, but you'll get through it.  I'll be there for you, and I'm sure everyone else will too.  I gotta run though... if you're not ten minutes early you're late, right?  We'll catch up later or tomorrow.  Promise."

If Ariadne was disappointed by the half hug, she didn't show it.  She smiled ruefully
"I spent years taking out my insecurities on other people, so please don't make the same mistake.   Ballad is a naturally flirty person, even flirting with me, despite having no real interest.   Don't read too much into other people's actions."
She gave Lance a wave as he prepared to go
"Okay,  so if you're not feeling up to coming to the Walk, it's totally cool.  I understand completely.   However......"
She wagged a playfully threatening finger at her cousin,  smiling.
"You make damned sure you keep in touch, goofball.   Don't make me track you down again.  I'm here for you.  Always. "

Day 8, 9:00 am
As is his new custom, Lance takes his breakfast out in the garden after his sunrise run, once again saving some suet for the bird outside his window.  He takes his time eating, sometimes walking about to examine or smell a flower of particular interest.  He seems in an excellent mood, something that had not been in abundance for the better part of a week.

  He’s singing softly to himself as he goes about his breakfast.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:54, Sat 03 Apr 2021.

The gardens are quite the popular place right now. They're a bustling hive of people out for casual, nonchalant, totally-just-by-chance-remembered-an-errand-taking-me-in-this-direction strolls...

In fact, hey look, there are three young women now, castle staff enjoying a break and maybe spying on Lance. Possibly. They're certainly in deep discussion, which seems better served by glances in Lance's direction...

  Lance shoots the group a friendly wave and a smile as he goes about his wanderings, and his watching of a hummingbird picking out flowers leads him nearer where the trio are gathered, close enough that it would be rude to not say hello.  He also wanted to get to know more of the staff.

  "Good morning, ladies, I don't believe we've met.  I'm Lance, only recently arrived in  Amber.  Who might you be?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:23, Sun 04 Apr 2021.

There's a certain air of caught-out and uh oh when Lance greets them. The tallest of the young women flushes. "Um, we know who you are. You're Flora's son." She says it with subtext like: BOY are you Flora's son you PRETTY PRETTY thing. "I'm, er."

The one who's in the middle, height-wise, widens her eyes at the tallest and curtsies, "It is a good morning. Very bright. Very beautiful. I've never seen so beautiful a ma--morning."

The shortest also curtsies. They seem to have momentarily totally forgotten their own names (or forgotten that he asked), so he'll have to forgive them.

  Lance smiles.  "I'm trying to get to know everyone, but the castle is so huge, and there's so many people...it'll take me ages to get to know everyone's names and what they do here, but  let's try to start with that.  Tell me a bit about yourselves, one at a time, if you don't mind?"

The tallest one says: "Oh. Um, I'm Gwyn. There's nothing much to tell. You're the curiosity here. What sort of prince will you be?"

The middle one widens her eyes at the tallest again, somewhat scandalized, and hastily says: "Gwyn doesn't mean anything by that, milord. She isn't very polished, that is, used to, that is, we work for the queen. I'm Zavieta."

The shortest one bites her lip. "I'm Mariah."

  Lance laughs, not unkindly.  “Gwyn, Zavieta, Mariah, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.  Worry not about your speech around me, please, I take no offense from questions and would prefer that all speak their minds with me without hesitation.  You wonder what kind of Prince I shall be?  I wonder the same thing.   Well, I hope that I should be kind, and gentle, and honorable and beloved by those around me.  I hope to be a worthy servant of our King and Kingdom, and never forget my responsibility to the people that trust in our family to rule wisely and beneficently.  I hope that I can be someone whom all will be at ease with, and come to for help when it is needed..  I hope to learn from my mistakes, and always strive to be better.  More importantly though than being a good Prince, I hope to be a good man.  Does that answer the question?”

"I have no doubt you're a very good man," Zavieta says, blushing. He really set them up there, didn't he?

Does that answer the question? Gwyn curtsies, deeply. "Milord. It was a very pretty speech, but," she is clearly deciding to take Lance at his word, more or less, "what is the difference between a good Prince and a good man?"

Mariah doesn't say anything, just bobs a curtsy when her friend does and gazes at Lance from up under her eyelashes.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:35, Mon 05 Apr 2021.

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 24):

  "The difference is a matter of title.  Being a Prince is restricted in that there are worlds where that title matters not, and if I base my actions solely upon being a good Prince it only goes so far throughout Shadow.  By being a good man, then it is for the sake of being good that I do things wherever I may go without the yoke of a title attached to it.  It is about being good and doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do."

  He pauses. "I did not grow up as a pampered Prince, like some.  The title is quite new to me, really, and I do not see it as an entitlement by birthright, but as an enormous responsibility that I must work for.  I suppose I feel I must earn it to be worthy of it.  I know that's not the way most royals see things, but it is my way.  I am told that the things we do here are echoed throughout all existence, so it is imperative that I try to be the best person that I can be."

  A chuckle and a blush.  "I suppose I haven't entirely met those expectations yet.  No doubt there have been some less than stellar tales being told about Flora's son since his arrival, hmm?  Probably mostly true to this point, I'm afraid.  An inappropriate bit of heartbreak over my cousin Ballad?  An episode of drunkenness in town because of it?  An argument with Prince Jon that came close to ending in bloodshed?  Sadly, all true.  Tell me, have there been other stories?  If so, I would like to hear them that I may confirm that which I know to be true, and dispel any which are not.  What others have you heard?"

They look like they'd (perhaps) like to disagree with Lance (or at least Gwyn does) at different points, but they don't quite dare. They do look rather shocked at the implication that Lance and his other relations aren't entitled by birthright, although Zavieta begins twirl a lock of red hair around her finger, daydreaming a little. The morning light looks so nice on Lance's hair...

They all, even Mariah, who hasn't really said much at all, try to rush in and assure him that no no he's absolutely met expectations, how could he not, when...

Well, he just gives up the gossip goods on himself, doesn't he? They look torn.

"Milord, I hope you don't think we're gossips," Gwyn says.
"I heard about Prince Jon. Heartbreak is never inappropriate because to love is the greatest virtue of all," Mariah says, eyes filling with tears. A romantic soul.
"Milord," Zavieta says, "We've only heard that you truly take after your mother. The painters will want to do your portrait."

  "I suppose I'll have to find out who does these portraits and arrange it.  I should have one done and given to my mother...after all, she's the one who is responsible for my being here, right?  And no, it's not gossip if it's true.  Besides, stories get passed around and should you ever hear of any that you think I might be involved in or take interest in, please feel free to let me know.  Which leads me to another subject..."

  Lance smiles.  "I would like to make it a part of my personal crusade to find ways to make life better for everyone in Amber, and I'm starting with the staff here in the castle.  I would like to know how I can personally improve things, whether it's finding a way to make work easier, bringing in things from other worlds for people, rolling up my sleeves and helping with tasks, or getting the King to perhaps declare a holiday or something.  Please ladies, tell me how I can make things better here in the castle?"

There is a flurry of significant, somewhat covert (though Lance sees through them) glances as he says he'd like to find a portraitest. He might even, if he were feeling particularly perceptive, notice that Zavieta gets an elbow nudge from sweet little Mariah, and promptly stares at her shoes. There's even--dare we say--an urgent air.

But he continues on, with his offer. They're listening, or at least Gwyn is listening while Mariah and Zavieta have some quiet battle of wills. Gwyn curtsies again, "Milord is very kind. Should I think of anything, I will surely let you know. How do you wish to be approached, in that case?"

Mariah says, quietly but determinedly, "Pardon me, milord, but Zavieta is a fine portrait artist, and more, her brother Gavriel is one of the best. But he's having trouble getting established and if they painted you I'm sure he'd be able to find steady patronage..."

  Lance  shrugs at Gwyn’s question.  “I suppose you could just walk up and ask when you see me, or try knocking on my door, or slipping a note beneath it if I am away.  Else you could let Cheryl know, as she and I have begun spending some time together..  Oh, and if you’re comfortable with doing so, you may call me Lance, rather than use titles.  Whichever you choose, of course, unless it’s some big, stuffy formal occasion where it might cause an issue.”

  Turning to the other query, Lance smiles.  “Well then, Zavieta and her brother shall have my commission on my portrait, if they wish to undertake it.  What say you, Zavieta, would you like to take on such a task?”

They don't seem to particularly like the idea of going to Cheryl to reach him. Social dynamics are tricky, and often cruel, though Mariah looks the wistfullest. They seem to respond well enough to the idea of calling him Lance, though, since he asked it.

BUT THEN.

Zavieta is trying not to smile too wide. This means she is smiling very oddly indeed, gazing at Lance, and not speaking or responding to social cues when she should. This is because her mental landscape is an epic party in full-swing, jubilation, the moon landing control room after touchdown, and she finds herself unable to immediately reply.

Gwyn looks at Zavieta, exchanges a look with Mariah (or tries to, Mariah is still looking at Lance, as well as seeming quietly shyly pleased with herself), and says, "She would love that. Wouldn't you, Zavieta?"

Zavieta: stare, smile.

Gwyn coughs. Mariah elbows Zavieta in the ribs. Zavieta jumps.

"Yes, milord! Oh, yes. I know you'll make an excellent subject. Can you sit tod--when, I mean when you might have leisure to meet my brother and for some preliminary sketches?"

  "I have plans at noon today that I expect might take up most of the rest of the day, so I have about two hours open now, and nothing scheduled that I am aware of for tomorrow after breakfast.  The day after is likely to be a mess as both Princess Ariadne and Prince Jon are slated to walk the Pattern and I am expected to be there to cheer them on.  I've never sat for a portrait before, so don't know how much time or preparation you need.  What works best for you?" he queries, smiling.

"N-now is fine, to begin," Zavieta says. "A portrait takes many weeks, but there are, um, periods where the subject isn't necessary... And periods where they are... It also depends on how, um, opulent you- it just depends. My brother will have thoughts, too..."

The other two giggle. Mariah looks really happy for some reason.

  “Wonderful!  I’ll go change into something more fitting while you gather what you need.  Shall we meet back here in fifteen minutes?  That should leave nearly two hours until I have to go.”

  If all are in agreement, Lance heads to his room to change into something more fitting.  A red poet shirt with gold piping, golden colored trews, red with gold trimmed cape, and his calf-high brown boots.  He runs a quick comb through his hair and dabs on a bit of vanilla and cinnamon oil.  He of course adds his blades, a belt, and the pouch with his mother’s card.

  He arrives back at the garden spot some fifteen minutes later, fair as the sunrise itself.

They would probably all be in agreement with Lance even if he suggested something much more outrageous, but when he returns to the gardens, there's only Zavieta still there, nothing else on her.

There's a little pause between beholding Lance and her response to him, which is a curtsy, and a, "Milord, you look very... portrait-ready. Um. I normally walk into the city, but..."

Once they figure out whether Lance is going to commandeer a carriage or a horse (it turns out Zavieta doesn't know how to ride, herself) or if they're going to walk, off they go!

  "Ah, my mistake.  I had assumed that you had your art supplies here in the castle and that we would begin here, but no worries, I shall call for a carriage since time is of the essence.  It will be quicker than walking, and easier to bring back easels and the like.  I found a nice little art supply shop the other day that I can purchase anything you need for the project, of course.  That comes with being your, what's the term, your patron, isn't that it?"

 Lance smiles as he leads the way and makes the arrangement for a carriage, whichever one can be readied the soonest.  He leaves word with the stablemaster that they plan on going into town for art supplies, and plan on being back soon.

  Once inside and enroute, he asks, "So, Zavieta, have you and your brother done many portraits, or mostly landscapes and such?  Did you study art, or are you self-taught?"

Zavieta corrects some of Lance's assumptions, although she seems awfully sheepish about it: namely, that this is really just going to be a preliminary sketch and a meet with her brother and a discussion of what he'll want for the portrait, and that most of the artistic magic happens in the studio (which is in the city). She is hasty to assure Lance that if he is absolutely only comfortable sitting in the castle arrangements for that can be made another day, but this is just the preliminaries. Welcome to the Art World, Lance!

Once they're in the carriage, a perspective Zavieta is only too delighted to have, as it's not at all what she's used to and also look Lance is just so pretty, Zavieta clasps her hands on her lap.

"Oh, we've done portraits before. He's much better. He's the one who taught me after I," she laughs selfconsciously, "tried to use linseed oil to draw on an oil painting he was working on. I ruined the painting. And that wasn't the first time I'd tried to mess with his stuff. Making paints... trying to bargain for the right jewels or plants to go into different pigments... it's fascinating, like magic. But my brother... well he learned a little on his own, but then an important art critic from out in shadow, maybe you'll know their name, Ruskin Malionetti, Ruskin took my brother under his wing and introduced him to other artists... They really helped him perfect his style."

  Lance shakes his head, smiling. “I’m afraid I don’t know the name, or much about the art scene around Amber.  Truth be told, I know very little about art at all, other than there was one painter back on Earth that I liked his style very much.  His name was Thomas Kincaid, and he was called The Painter of Light.  He did amazing work with the skies in his backgrounds.”

  “So, Zavieta, you work for the Queen?  She seems wonderful.  How did you come into that position?  Was it one of those jobs where you do it to pay the bills rather than take the starving artist path?”

Zavieta soaks this information up. So Lance likes light-filled skies, huh? The carriage bounces around and the scenery passes. Lots of opportunity to appreciate the mountain views as they wind down it.

She tries to hide a wince at the 'starving artist' thing and stifles a sigh, but answers the question easily enough: "Oh it is a high honor to work in the castle. The King and Queen are so good and have done so much for Amber! though they aren't really like the last King... I know my aunt still misses King Oberon. But she worked in the castle and she recommended me for the work. It's mostly seamstressing and wardrobe, laundry, that kind of work... But yes, Her Majesty is very kind."

  Lance sees the wince and assures her that the starving artist thing was nothing to be ashamed of, and how back on Earth most performers and artists lived a similar life to follow their passions in the arts, and that it was a noble cause.

  “Why, as a young man I barely scraped by on my own for more than a year, living in an old carriage in an alleyway, working and studying until I found an opportunity to better myself.  I never knew the truth of who I was until a week ago when my mother brought me home, and now I have to live up to being the son of a Princess.”

"It sounds as if you did work to scrape by, milord," Zavieta says, her tone a mix of glum and admiring.

But then: "So you were a hidden prince. That must be why you think the things you do about the other princes. Did your mother come to you in a carriage made of gold? Did she pick you up out of the gutter? Were you a leader, nobly fighting against evil?"

Squee. It's so romantical. Zavieta's eyes go dreamy, glumness chased away by fantasy. She blushes. "Sorry, but... um... Mariah," yes yes blame the shorter girl, "will be so fascinated by your history..."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 40):

  "I wasn't a leader, just a travelling swordsman when my mother found me.  I had worked my way up out of poverty to perhaps journeyman or merchant status.  It was early in the night and I was sitting by a campfire by my carriage when a grey man appeared and attacked me.  She appeared just after the fight, carrying a crossbow.  We travelled in my carriage to a place to dispose of the body, and afterwards she brought me here through a magical card of a picture of King Random.  It's been something of a shock, to say the least, finding out that I'm royalty in a world that is very different from the one I grew up in.  Amber is like a place I had always dreamed of living."

  He furrows his brow.

  "Zavieta, as one of the Queen's maids you have no doubt heard about the threat of the grey men?  I assure you, they are a very real threat, and quite deadly dangerous.  You and your brother must know that doing my portrait might put you in harm's way if they should appear and come for me.  If that should happen, you both must both immediately flee to safety and leave me to handle them, understood?  Get away as fast as you can, notify the guards, but get away from them no matter what.  I won't have innocent blood on my conscience, and it is easier for me to fight them if I don't have to worry about defending others while I'm doing so.  You must promise me this."

"Maybe you did dream it because it wanted you to come home," Zavieta suggests, romantically inclined to believe in the magic of the royal family of Amber.

She looks quite serious as he goes over the danger of the gray men, but not surprised. She is a citizen of Amber, after all. There has been peace for a quite a number of years, but not many, as eternal Amber judges time...

"I'm not really a fighter - and neither is my brother. If the threat came into our studio to try and get you, we'd simply sneak out the back... though we'd want you to come, too. His Majesty wouldn't be happy if you were injured and we abandoned you."

They are now wending through the city, all of its sights which are slowly becoming familiar to Lance. Does he feel yet like Amber is home? Has it infused itself into his marrow, yet? If not, soon...
This message was last edited by the player at 15:08, Mon 19 Apr 2021.

  Home.  It was a strange concept.  The closest Lance had come to having a real home on Earth was his little pop-up trailer.  He had towed it all over the country, living out of it at fair after fair.  It was his version of a gypsy wagon, he supposed.  Now he had his own suite in an enchanted castle, with a family around him.  Another alien concept to him.  Home was easier.

  He looked out the window and saw they were in the less grand area of the arts district, a place where he imagined there were multitudes of those moved by the muse, but whom had not quite caught their break yet.  People stared as they passed.  The carriage bore the symbol of the Unicorn on it, denoting it as a conveyance of the Castle.

  Home.  Yes, Amber was his home, and he would defend her to the end...although by god he would find a better way than chamber pots and hauled water for bathing in the castle!

  "Should there be trouble, I expect you and your brother to run and sound the alarm, no more.  I can handle the fighting if it needs come down to that.  It's one of the things I'm actually good at." He smiled.  No doubt Zavieta would assure them that she was sure he was good at many things.

  The carriage finally came to a halt.  They had reached the closest point that the driver could.  The street next to them was too narrow to make the turn into.

  Climbing out, Lance held the door and helped Zavieta down.  He instructed the driver to wait, that he didn't expect to be much more than an hour.  Lance turned to Zavieta and said, "We walk from here.  Lead on."

Zavieta leads Lance down a twisty cobblestone alleyway-or-street-what’s-the-difference (this is a city that was not built for cars, only for walking and horses), then down a steep staircase, through a small square with a fountain (it does not depict a unicorn, although Lance will note one stone in the town scare that seems to have a weathered unicorn’s face carved onto it, easy to trip on but hey). Singing comes from the open doors of a pub. There’s a small market. People are bustling, hustling, doing work.

Stairs go up the pub, and Zavieta knocks on the door, smiling hopefully at Lance.

There is no answer.

Zavieta knocks harder. A groan from within? Zavieta tries the door handle and it swings open as if it was never closed. Another groan.

"Gavriel?" she calls. The door opens suddenly and a man who looks like he's nursing a hangover, but also could punch a hangover out, is standing there. He squints. "Gavriel's paying his tithe to the delectable goddess of grain and cannot--oh, Zavieta!" He straightens a touch. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I brought Prince Lance, the son of Flora, to see Gav. He's..." And she trails away, putting a hand out toward Lance.

  The real city of Amber, Lance thinks, not the palace grandeur, but the salt of the earth people that were the backbone of what kept things running.  He liked it.

  Lance smiles and extends a hand to shake. "It's just Lance.  I hope we're not interrupting anything?  I was hoping to speak with Gavriel about commissioning a portrait, and Zavieta was kind enough to bring me to meet him."

The man squints at Lance and then does a doubletake. He takes Lance's hand and bows over it. "Enchanted," he says, with a meaningful look. Yeah, Lance. You're being flirted with a little. "I'm Virgil."

Then the whole situation seems to register with the drunk man and he gives Zavieta a look, then glances over his shoulder, "Oh uh, yes, come in, Gavriel will..." He gives Zavieta a meaningful look. She gives one right back. "...I mean, of course you must come in. Any artist would hang himself from Cabra before passing up a chance to paint you... Actually Zavieta why don't you, you know the studio, I'll go see how Gavriel's doing and you show your guest to the couch."

Zavieta, teeth only a little gritted, "Yes."

The man disappears. Zavieta smiles hopefully at Lance. "Sorry. He's... he sometimes stays up pretty late, um, practicing in different lights... and making contacts, you know. Here, come this way."

And Zavieta leads Lance into a very jumbled up artist's studio, some plants growing near a window, assorted and interesting props, a couple of medieval-style (although for all Lance knows, cutting edge here) chairs and low couches, trunks and tables with candles and oil lamps in varying states of use, a table filled with interesting looking vials, a scatter of jewels, a LOT of bottles of booze, some dirty dishes, some costume pieces... A moth-eaten tapestry divides the room, and Zavieta brings Lance over to a couch by the window. It has a nice view of the square and there's a little dish out with birdseed and nuts. There's also some suggestive clay sculptures in varying states of completion. The whole atmosphere is very 'Renaissance Artist.'

Voices from the other side of the moth-eaten tapestry.

  Lance looks around the room briefly before settling onto the couch by the window.  He glanced out at the square, noted the offerings for the birds.  He wasn't the only one who did such things, it seems.

  From the state of the studio, it was clear that Gavriel was struggling with more than merely getting his career to launch, but Lance wasn't judging.  The way he saw it, there would be opportunity for Gavriel to either sieze or not, and with that opportunity would be the hope of a fresh start if he chose to take it.  Lance hoped he would.  If he could start by bettering the lives of these three people, it would be good.  It would be a seed that would perhaps bloom and spread to those nearby.  He would keep his eyes out to see where he could help people.

  Lance looked back to Zavieta and says quietly, "It's alright.  I know what hard times are like.  We'll see about putting such things in the past, eh?  Whatever I can do to help."

Zavieta blushes.

There's a series of loud thumps from the other side of the tapestry, a plaintive third voice raised in question, and then a pale young man with curly dark hair and smouldery brown eyes, looking extremely under the weather, comes out from behind the tapestry, flinging it rather dramatically to the side. It falls again immediately but not before Lance can see the chaotic mess that passes for an artist's bed, the long-haired young woman who occupies it and who Virgil is helping into a smock (both freeze when they think they might have been seen, but the curtain does fall back in place quickly enough that Lance just got a glimpse), and general debauched chaos. Bottles. Etcetera. Pipes.

Zavieta does not stop blushing.

The young man enthusiastically approaches Lance and bows, hiding a wince as he does so (don't throw up don't throw up), rising with a charming if wobbly smile. The smile seems tinged with solemnity, and there's a certain intensity to the way he looks Lance over.

"Welcome to my studio, Prince Lance. You find me unprepared for this visit. I am Gavriel Chandler, humble son of nobody in particular, devotee of beauty and student of reality. What can I do for you so early in the morning?"

It's The Afternoon Zavieta mouths, causing Gavriel to give her a very brotherly look best described as whathuh? followed by annoyed no it isn't stop being pedantic.

  Lance smiles and shakes the young man’s hand. “Good morning, Gabriel, and thank you for seeing me today without advance notice.  I promise to not take up much time this morning, as I have an appointment at noon that I must be on time for.  So, to the point of my visit.  Your sister tells me that you and she are artists of great skill, and that you might be willing to accept a commission on a portrait or two.  Two, I think... one for a gift for my mother, one to hang in the castle along with those of the rest of my family.  If you’re interested, we can discuss terms and scheduling and what not.  Oh, and please just call me Lance and no bowing or titles, especially here in your own studio.  I’m just a guy like anyone else.”


((OOC:  should still be morning, around 10:30-ish))

"I, uh, yes, of course I accept this commission!"

I’m just a guy like anyone else, Lance says, and that just isn’t true. But Gavriel doesn’t argue or judge Lance for wanting to be an everyman; for thinking he’s an everyman, when he is the most beautiful person Gavriel has ever seen. The whole of his intensity does go to business. A portrait or two from a royal, and such an aesthetically pleasing one, could really be the wind beneath the wings of Gavriel’s ambition; moreover, Lance has an inspiring sort of way about him; the young man is cautiously excited at the idea of turning Lance into a work of art. And he’s arrogant enough to think he’s the artist to do it, too. No false modesty here. (Even though there’s an internal gulp: a work of his hanging in the castle?!)

So. Gavriel nods sagely, but also circles Lance. If Lance turns to try to keep facing him, he takes Lance at his word and reaches out to keep him still. “No, I want to take a look at you.” After circling Lance a few times, his fingers twitch and he says, “Are you good at holding still? Do you have ideas of your own on how you want to be depicted? The gift for your mother; do you wish a miniature she can carry with her, or do you wish something for her to hang in one of her walls? How many hours I’ll need you to sit for me depends entirely on what you want the end result to look like, and how restless you are. I,” he clears his throat, suddenly doubtful, looking toward Zavieta. “My sister is a very good artist. She might assist. But I’ll need money to purchase appropriate materials, for a prince and two portraits, probably about,” he names a fee. It is quite high, but not actually what he’s worth. Still, it would raise eyebrows.

"I am not a hack, I am a true artist, and if I paint you I will paint you as a piece of true art, Lance. My work is my soul, and it is yours as well if I get you right. If you want to be painted with dogs, that is an extra fee." This last is said with the tone of someone who has been asked to paint rather more pet portraits than his sensitive artiste's soul would like...

(Naw, it's more like 11 at this point. Lance only has twenty, twenty five minutes if he wants to be sure to get back to the castle at noon. :P Takes time to go down and up that mountain by carriage.)

  Lance stays still as instructed while Gavriel circles and comes up with his price.  It was high, but Lance wanted quality and was sure he could convince Random that it would be a worthy endeavor.  He already had a few commissions lined up, his armor and weapons, a ballgown for Cheryl...surely he would get approval for the portrait fees.  If not, he would forge out into shadow to get what he needed.

  "The one for my mother would be to be hung on her wall.  She has something of a small one to carry with her already, done by the hand of my cousin, Princess Jade.  I never posed for it.  Perhaps it's something of the magic that she imbued it with that didn't require it."

  Lance shrugs.  "Holding still is something I can manage well enough, and while I had originally thought that the one for my mother would be nice with a dog since she likes dogs, I think having flowers would do just as well.  She likes flowers too.  The one for the castle I'm thinking would be something martial, perhaps, maybe leaning on a sword, or something?  My colors are red and gold, so I suppose I'd wear something in that general scheme.  I have some lovely armor being made, but it will be a few weeks yet before it is done.  But of course, I'm no artist, so ultimately I'd leave it up to you.  You know what would work best for such things far better than I."

  With a smile he adds, "I have no doubt that your price is more than fair, and I suppose it is customary to do something of a portion up front to cover materials and expenses, with the remainder of the balance paid upon completion, isn't it?  I can talk to the Castellan or whoever is in charge of such things, or the King or Queen if needed.  I'd like to keep it as a surprise for my mother though."

  Lance glances out the window, gauging the sun's angle.

  "My time grows very short today, Gavriel, and doubtless you'll want time to prepare.  What say we meet again tomorrow?  Perhaps you could come to the castle and we can get the payments arranged, and we could find where the portrait might be hung so you can best decide on the needed sizing, and see what I have in my wardrobe that will be suitable?  Perhaps at noon, for lunch?  If my other cousins are about, I could introduce you.  They might also like to offer you some commissions.  If you'd like, I could send a carriage to pick you up."

“I can begin the work before your armor is ready. You don’t think that hack who painted Corwin on the Edge of Chaos painted from life, do you?” He chuckles in a share-the-joke-way, glancing toward Virgil and the long-haired young woman who’ve come out from the bedchamber portion of the studio-slash-apartment, but sure to include Lance in the joke too. He tries to assure the prince: "But truthfully, there is no need to be concerned, I won't even need you to hold the sword you want depicted in the final painting, at least not to begin with. I'll just need you. At first. Then if there is a specific sword meaningful to you, I'll need to take a look at it eventually. Is there anything meaningful to you, private in nature, you want me to include? Think about it and tell me later. Many great men and women like to include secret messages to themselves in such things." As he speaks, he grabs at a piece of scratch paper and a pencil and starts taking some rapid notes.

Zavieta bites her lip and gives Virgil a look. Virgil shakes his head like he doesn't know what she wants. She realizes she'll have to explain things herself, and looks heavenwards briefly. There'll be time on the carriage ride back to the castle, so she holds her tongue for now.

Gavriel's brain finally catches up to the other things that Lance said. "Tomorrow, at your pleasure. Yes yes, that all sounds good, see the place where you want the painting to go, look through your wardrobe, although if the Princess Florimel is in residence, perhaps you might come up with a story in advance about what you want me for so she doesn't suspect... Did you say send a carriage?"

Poor starving artist gets carriage escort to castle? Gavriel is really looking forward to TELLING EVERYBODY about this over drinks. SUCK IT, haters. This isn't slang that Gavriel knows, of course, but it is slang that is in his heart.

Displaying way more chill aloud, he says with a bow, "If you wish to send a carriage, I will be ready."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:11, Mon 03 May 2021.

  Lance nods.  “I shall send a carriage to pick you up tomorrow at eleven o’clock then, at the place where it is parked now, out through the alleyway.  We can figure everything else out then.  Well, Gabriel, Virgil, Miss whose name I’ve not been gifted with, I must make haste.  If you’d all like to come for lunch tomorrow you are all of course welcome.  I look forward to it, and thank you for seeing me on such an abrupt visitation.”  He goes around the room shaking the hands of the two men, and bowing his forehead to touch the woman’s hand if presented.  He had learned to do such at the renn-faires when the kissing of a hand might imply more than courtesy.

  He turns to Zavieta, smiles and extends his hand for her to take.  “It’s time to head back.  Are you coming back with me, or have you things that you need to do here?”

Virgil grins at Lance. Gavriel seems distracted and intense, peering at Lance’s face and frowning over the man’s body, but pleased enough too. The Miss whose name Lance hasn’t been gifted with drops her eyes, only to glance up flirtatiously in the next moment. She is not fancy enough to present her hand to royalty.

“I’ll come back with you,” Zavieta says, demurely. “I have work this afternoon.”

And they all fare well each other, with Gavriel waving away any fussing, Virgil and Zavieta being in clear conspiracy with one another (although it also seems they maybe don't like each other that much?), and the long-haired woman stays back and quiet.

Once Zavieta and Lance have left, Lance can hear a distant cheer from inside followed by some hushing. As they cross the courtyard and alley back to the carriage, there's a flourish of horns, a trio of men (sailors) in outlandish (but isn't it all outlandish?) garb smoking outside one of the taverns.

  Lance throws the sailors a nod and a quick salute before holding the carriage door for Zavieta and climbing n after asking the coachman to head back to the castle and remember this spot for a pickup for tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock for the artist Gabriel and his entourage.

  Once the clip clop of hooves has become steady, Lance sits back and smiles.

  “Well, your brother and yourself now have an excellent opportunity before you.  He sounded happy, but I get the feeling you were holding something back in the studio.  If there’s anything you need tell me, as always, please speak freely with me.”

Zavieta demurely folds her hands in her lap. "He is happy. He'll do a good job, too... He really is brilliant." There's no grudging when she speaks to her brother's skillset. "He just needs..." She shrugs expansively. Then blushes a little. "We should have shown you some of his work! I didn't think about it, everything was so rushed, I'm so sorry."

A pause. "But ah. Back in the studio, I was just going to explain how artists are usually paid... Gav's head is in the clouds with that stuff. He knows he needs supplies, but while he's not doing other work he also needs some money for food and rent. Usually for a commission like this, of this caliber, I mean, the patron will pay for supplies--to a point anyway, that's where you get patrons like Lord Rondoval, who's notoriously tightfisted about this kind of stuff and suddenly has ideas about more efficient ways to make certain pigments... but I digress. The patron will pay for supplies, then pay a quarter to half of the painting's fee up front; the rest to follow upon completion."

"But you can work out what the best system is for you. Do you have a secret you want to include in the painting?"

  Lance listens attentively. “Have no worries about the finances, I’m not a tightwad about such things, and I thank you for correcting me.  I understand that quality costs, and will make sure that things are made right for your brother.  I don’t imagine the King taking issue with the cost.  And as for seeing your brother’s other works, perhaps I can sponsor a gallery showing of both of your  collected works, you know, invites to the nobles hear about, some cheese, some wine, all that?  A good way to make some connections for the both of you.”

  Lance considers the question of secret messages, let’s out a chuckle. “In truth, I don’t think I have much in the way of secrets.  I’m kind of an open book sort of guy.  If people want to know about me, they can simply ask.  Except my cousin Jon.  He can go pound sand somewhere uncomfortable.”

Zavieta bites the inside of her lip, but seems a sympathetic listener. Of course she does, Lance is about to shower money on her brother and also look at him, all dreamy in golden loveliness. "You don't wish to reveal yourself to Prince Jon? Do you think he'll use you poorly?"

  “Let us just say that things have been said between us that will prevent me from ever wanting anything to do with him.  I have one obligatory thing that I must do with my group of cousins the day after tomorrow where he shall be present, and after that I expect that things may get even more strained...but I promised my cousins Jade and Ariadne that I would attend and I am not about to allow Jon’s threat deter me from seeing it through.”

  Lance shrugs.  “It’s just one of those things though.  I gave my word and I’ll see it through, and when it’s done I hope to have nothing further to do with him.”

"Oh." Zavieta looks out the window for a while, letting the scenery pass by. People move out of the road to look after the royal carriage, but if she sees anybody she knows she doesn't wave. After a little bit of contemplation, she ventures to ask, "Does that mean you will avoid Amber? If he's around?"

  Lance shakes his head.  "Nope.  I rather like it here, and the rest of my family is generally around, so him being here isn't going to keep me away.  It just means that I don't plan on spending much time around him, if any.  Amber is a big place, the castle, the city, the countryside.  There's plenty of room.  Of course, not wanting to be around him will probably very much limit the time spent with my cousins as they tend to cluster together, and that's a shame that I shall miss spending as much time with them, but better that than having something awful happen between myself and Jon."

  Lance looks out the window for a bit.  He waves at people, smiling as they pass.

  "There are things that will keep me from Amber from time to time.  I have promised to go and assist my aunt Fiona with something she's about, and I have to get to the root of the grey man problem, and of course there's just some general exploring of other worlds that I want to do....but be damned if I'll miss out on Amber and all of it's wonders because of my cousin."

"Maybe you'll find common ground," Zavieta ventures. "They say even Eric and Corwin resolved their differences at the end. Er, or some people say."

"But I'm glad you won't keep yourself away from Amber and the rest of your family." Her eyes sparkle, mischievously. "It's been exciting, having so many strong royal personalities around. What is your area of expertise, P- er, Lance?"

The people who notice Lance waving, smiling, mostly brighten right up and smile or wave back, with a few sour looks from companions of people who brighten up...

  "Well, I'm a swordsman.  It's the thing that inspired me as a child and I dove in head first.  Never thought it would be real life and death stuff, it was all for tournament and show and educational stuff.  I used to travel and work the fairs that did medieval re-enactments, and I travelled a bit looking for the best swordsmen I could find to learn from. Earth had been a lot like Amber, maybe a thousand years ago, minus the magic.  Then they made all these great mechanical advancements, and grew with their technology away from their roots, so some groups created these travelling fairs that would go all around and show the old ways of craftsmanship, dress, traditions.  Then there were also moving pictures, for entertainment that showed fantasy realities with sword fighting acted out, sort of like a play.  I trained a lot of people for these too.  That's what I did up until just over a week ago, then my mom found me, and here I am."

Zavieta nods, wisely. "There are fairs in and around the Golden Circle, too. Sometimes craftsmen exhibit their wares or performers tell a story. Maybe you'll still get to do educational swordsmanship if you wish it."

A pause, and then she asks curiously, "Do the people at the fairs not like the technological advancements?"

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 64):

  The question brings a laugh.  "Oh, quite the contrary!  They so love their technology that they've surrendered the best parts of themselves to it.  At the fairs, most of the true craftsmen seem like they wish for what Amber is.  I was among them, I suppose.  The people who attended the fairs seemed to go mostly as a diversion, but are happier in their more modern ways.  Still, they like to visit the old ways."

  "On Earth, mankind has given up on true social contact.  Instead of going and speaking to someone in person or writing them a letter, they instead send snippets of speech or pictures to rach other using a device called a smartphone.  Most people have either forgotten or never learned how to do basic things through experiencing them.  Most things are mass produced, rather than crafted.  Food is grown, altered through chenicals, and packaged and preserved often without ever being touched by human hands."

  He smiles, "Oh, it has it's good points too.  Travel is faster, people have access to nearly unlimited information, communication across vast distances is nearly instantaneous, and you can get hot baths without having to trouble anyone to heat and haul water for you...and much of the world has self-emptying chamber pots.  For all the advancements though, I think I prefer Amber.  The food is better, everything is more beautiful and intense, and the way of life is better.  If I could change two things about Amber, it would be the chamber pots and the baths, because I don't think anyone should need do those things for me.  Those things I'm working on.  At least the bath thing is partly solved.  I found a lovely snowmelt-fed pool up on Mt. Kolvir that I sometimes bathe in, although it's bloody cold."

  Lance looks out the window and sees that the castle grows closer.

  "What about you, Zavieta?  What would you change if you had the power to do so?"

"Don't bathe in cold snow water just because you're saving us from the trouble. It's no trouble. In all honesty, some feelings might be hurt if it seems like you don't want people to do their jobs... Working at the castle is a very high honor... Incidentally," she adds, super casually, "Where is this snowmelt pool? Sounds like a lovely spot!"

"As for what I would change..." That question feels a little like a trap, and Zavieta seems a touch nervous, so her very diplomatic (but nonetheless true) answer is, "I- I  suppose I'd have more parties. I like when everything is festively turned out. More games, too."

And as the carriage winds its way back up the mountain, the familiar sounds of people -- tradesmen and the like -- calling back and forth begins to fade...

...until the sound of some minor commotion outside.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Thu 20 May 2021.

  "It's more to really cool down after my morning run, than anything else, but it decreases the frequency that people need to haul water for me for a mere bath.  I promise I'll still take a hot bath now and again, but thats more for when I have the leisure time to enjoy it.  Trust me, I don't want to take anyone's jobs away, I just want to make it a bit easier for them to do it.  The pool?  Oh, it's about a mile up Kolvir, along one of the game trails to the northeast-ish.  Pretty spot, a little cliff overhanging it.  Good for getting the sweat off after a few miles of running.  Very refreshing."

  Lance listens to Zavieta's answer.  "Parties, celebrations, games.  You're right, there should be more of those.  I asked my mother about holidays and such, and there don't seem to be too many.  I'll talk to her, and the King and Queen and see if we can't get a bit more festivity going.  It occurs to me that we don't have a big celebration of the founding of Amber, or anything to celebrate my Grandfather or Great-grandfather.  Of course, there will likely be something for the coming out of the new generation of royals, but probably not until it is safer to do so...."

  Looking out the window, Lance tries to see the sound of the commotion.  Maybe it's something he can help with.

"The Feast of the Unicorn is a little bit of those things," Zavieta says. "King Oberon and the Unicorn and Amber's history. It's a very joyful festival; sometimes the festivities can last for days, depending on the king's mood!" Zavieta's eyes shine. She clearly likes this holiday. "Summer Solstice is very nice, too." Here, a look up from under her eyelashes.

When Lance looks out of the carriage, he sees what looks like quite the kerfluffle. There is one (1) overturned cart, many cabbages rolling about, one (1) donkey lying on the ground, two (2) men involved in a fight, one of whom is wielding a leg (??? a proesthetic leg, looking much like puppetry, clasped in silver) and beating the other man with it, while four (4) others goad them on and occasionally dart in with sticks. Easy enough to ignore! But certainly a strange kerfluffle. The one who is doing the beating is dressed in rather raggedy leather 'armor.'

  Lance sees the scene and calls out to the driver to stop.

  Popping open the door, Lance springs out even before the royal carriage has come to a complete stop.

  "Here, here, now!  This just won't do on my uncle, King Random's road!  Good gentles, stay your hands immediately, and tell me what is going on!" He raises his voice to renn-faire performance level, and the tone is not quite chastising, but was clearly meant to be heard and obeyed.

  He approaches the group as he says it.

The men with sticks (oh, one of them's a woman) stop and look at Lance first. The man who's beating the other with a prosthetic leg is far too deep in his frenzy, and will need to be physically brought to attention--that much is clear. But the four with sticks look, at first, like they'd give Lance a jeer--then his words sink in and they look confused and then wary and then abashed. They all start to explain, but it's too much, Lance can't really tell what they're saying--they're talking over one another. And still, the central brawl seems to be going on...

Zavieta pokes a curious head out of the carriage.

  Stepping up, Lance grabs the leg in one hand, and the man who had been swinging it in the other and tries to hoist them both high and apart, separating them from each other and the person on the ground, this time letting his voice roar.

  "I...said....STOP!"


  Then, in a calmer voice he adds, "Now, you...tell me who you are and your side of the story." indicating first the person in the armor. "No one interrupt.  Then you, do the same." he says, indicating the person who was the recipient of the beating.  "Then I'll hear from each of the witnesses, one at a time, again without interruption."

(Go ahead and give me a Strength roll, Lance!)

16:54, Today: Lance rolled 12 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 6,5.  Lance, Strength roll.

  The strength of the royal family is a thing of legend, the thing that songs and tales speak of, and the beautiful Prince is a thing of pure inspiration as he grips the man and the leg and hoists them both high with ease and grace.

He very effectively manages to stop the madness. He also effectively silences the four stick-wielders. Even the donkey is pretty quiet, though it flicks its tail as though to say hi I am alive although I am lying down in this shade here among all these cabbages. The leg belongs to the cabbage vendor.

The man in raggedy armor explains how he was walking down the mountain minding his own business, though rather upset because he'd learned there'd been a thief in his stables, when the cabbage man flung donkey shit at him and called him unspeakable words, and so the lesson Lance stumbled upon. He seems rather sulky.

The cabbage vendor explains how he was guiding his beautiful precious donkey up the road when the man in raggedy armor (who the cabbage vendor does rather insult at this point, but everybody's spirits are high even if they're being respectful to Lance) tripped the cabbage vendor's donkey and said something awful about the cabbage vendor's wife.

The witnesses didn't see it begin. Also hey, there are only three witnesses now, it seems? What happened to the fourth?

  “Well, it seems as if you both were having an bad day of it, but here’s what we are going to do about it.  Driver, unhitch  your Donkey and get him up.  The rest of you, lend me a hand in uprighting the cart and collecting the cabbages.  Then everyone can go their separate ways without further insults, shit-throwing, stick poking, or beating each other....and we’ll wipe the slate clean, as it were.  I expect this argument to end here and now.  Everyone can then tell how they gallantly assisted Prince Lance in clearing the King’s road so that he wouldn’t be late for his luncheon date.”

  Lance flashes a kind smile.  <Blue>“Remember, we’re all Amberites, and the example we set affects all of reality, so it is up to us all to be good to each other.  Let us all be better, every day.”</Blue>

  With that he sets himself to the task of setting things to right so he can then be about his way.

The driver rather acidly points out he needs to tend to his leg, but other than that small hitch (eh? get it? get it?!), the small collection of unlike-minded individuals does go along with Lance's directions. They've heard about Prince Lance, and he has rather an air. Also, the lifting both men so easily thing.

The donkey is... resistant to standing but with Lance's help the beast will do so, and the cabbages (mostly) make it back into the cart, with many exclamations from the cabbage vendor about damaged leaves and bruised heads etc etc, while the man in raggedy armor rather glares at the cabbage vendor, although he seems like he'd like to get to pure indifference...

And then all is right. The three (remaining) witnesses with the sticks salute. The cabbage vendor thanks Lance profusely. The man in raggedy armor does not thank him, but nods. "With permission to continue on my way, milord..."

...And Lance is definitely going to be late to his luncheon, but not by too much, unless he lingers further.

  Lance nods to one and all,   “Carry on, good people, with my thanks for your assistance!  When next I see each of you, I’ll buy you a drink!”

  With that, Lance climbs back into the carriage and bids the driver to make careful haste.  He smiles at Zavieta.  “And that’s the kind of Prince and man I hope to be, in answer to the question from earlier in the morning.”

Two of the witnesses seem pretty pleased by this. The cabbage vendor modestly bows. The man in raggedy armor keeps a rather more neutral mien at this stage in time. One of the witnesses seems skeptical. The donkey placidly munches on a cabbage leaf.

...once Lance gives the go ahead, the royal carriage continues up the mountain. Zavieta smiles at Lance, eyes twinkling. "I thought he was going to try and wack you in the head with the leg; it was like something out of a puppet show!"

  Lance chuckles, "Had he done so, I'm sure it would have made a hollow sound indeed!". For emphasis he raps thrice on the side of his head, each time making a clucking noise with his tongue to accentuate it.  "I'm just glad I was able to get it resolved and get everyone back on their way.  I can just hear it now, the bards will be singing of Lancelot, Prince of Cabbages and Donkeys!"

  As they get closer to the castle, Lance appraises how closely the sun is to midday.  They may be a few minutes late, but not much more than that.  No doubt Cheryl would be waiting patiently.  The wait would be well worth it though, for Lance intended to take her to lunch, then shopping for a ballgown...perhaps a nice jewelry set to go with it.

  He thought to himself that his fortunes had changed for the better.  Once he had resigned himself that he and Ballad were not to be, he had met Cheryl...and if things didn't work out between them, he had little doubt that Zavieta would be quite happy to date him.  Who knew what the future would hold!  Perhaps by this time next year there would be something quite serious in the works...

It's true, Lance might feel his prospects are pretty bright, as far as dating around goes, if that's what he wishes. If he's thinking back, he knows he's been getting vibes from many a lass (and some lads).

Zavieta chuckles. "That would be a good name for a puppet prince!"

And so the conversation goes, all the way back to the stables. Once back at the castle--where are Lance's cousins keeping themselves on this day, anyway?--Zavieta curtsies and thanks Lance very much for his help.

She does seem cautiously optimistic about Gavriel's chances.

And so...

OOC: Back to your private thread for your noon appointment, Lance.

Day 10 - Pattern walk, before the Party
Jon waits just inside the garden's entrance.  He is dressed in his armor, much like the day he arrived, though he does not have his pack with him.
Jon's whole demeaner is nervous, you can practically see vibrating off of him as he paces.

He thinks to himself ~this is a big day, many things will change~ he then runs through a list of things he needs to accomplish ~Get the letter / decree making my mother the official ambassador to the Faewylds, double check that my room is locked, remember to be cordial to Lance, even though he doesn't like me nor forgiven me, the letter for Jade...~ *Sighs* he check his and the letter is tucked into his belt.

Jade Makes her way gracefully to the gardens. Her parasol resting on her shoulder as she spun it slightly. She strolled up seeing Jon pacing in the garden.

Smiling she approached, "Hello Jon, your looking very sharp." She walked around him in a wide circle before stopping before him.

"How are you feeling ?" Her green eyes shimmered as she looked at him.

Jon smiles seeing Jade, his body language is between alertness and nervousness.  He watches her as she circles him.

*chuckles* "Nothing special, just my basic travel armor." he nods "Well, I am definitely nervous.." He offers her his arm. "Would you walk with me for a few minutes" he asks formally.

Jade nods, "Certainly, hopefully I can help you steady your nerves."

She takes his arm and will walk with him.

"It's your big day, but your strong and healthy and hopefully well rested. You should have nothing to worry about."

Once she takes his arm, she can feel him relax slightly. As they Jon laughs at her comment about nothing to worry about and some more of the tension seems to leave his body, but remains silent and a bit pensive.

He has lead them a semi-private alcove in the garden with a bench. "Jade, I want to thank you. Without you I don't know that I be as comfortable here nor have the relationships I do with the others." He then turns to face her, he takes her hands and looks her in eyes.

"Jade, over the last 10 days, I have seen so many wonders and met so many amazing people.  The first and brightest of those is you." Jon smiles and it is reflected in his eyes "You are my anchor to Amber, more so that Ari, Ballad or Lance.  I have grown very fond of you.  I find that I look forward to our time together.  I feel safe and comfortable with you."

Jade tilts her head and smiles more, "I am glad that I can provide some comfort and stability for you. I thought Ballad would be the true welcome party for everyone. She is what Ariadne calls, cool."

She looks to him, "Your a comfort for me too. I was not at my best when we first met, I think we were all suffering wounds except for Ballad."

Jon gives her a big smile "You were, are great. You put me at ease that first day." and she can feel him tense a bit.

He looks around "Walking the pattern is dangerous, probably the most dangerous thing I've done.  I am..."

Jon takes a deep centering breath, Jade can see him relax a bit as some of the tension drains out of him.  He looks into her eyes, and he pauses.  Then in a low voice, "Back home, there is a tradition that when someone goes on a potentially dangerous mission or adventure, they would go to someone they care deeply about and ask for a kiss of good luck." blushes slightly and looks down.

"I have to admit, I've never had someone like that." he looks up and meets her eyes. "Jade, that is until now.  Until you..." he pauses, he tenses slightly, suddenly nervous. "Would you be my first kiss?  A kiss for good luck?  Something I can hang on too.." Jon's blush deepens and his eyes hold a myriad of emotions...

Jade feels the pull of tides and for a moment is silent.

Then she smiles, "How could I not give you a kiss for good luck, though trust me luck is not what you should be relying on." She laughs a bit.

She leans in and past his face to his ear and teases, "Besides you will have my parasol to hang on to." She then moves back looking at his face and brushing back some of his hair from it.

"Good luck to thee, Prince Jon." She gives him a chaste kiss her skin showing that Rebman blush.

Jon blushes harder as he feels her soft lips and for a moment everything except Jade disappears.  She is the focus of his world, every aspect of her in this moment is seared into his memory, the color of her blush, the beauty of her eyes, the perfect ribbons, the stunning dress, every last detail. Then the moment ends.

He closes his eyes and he gives a small contented smile. "Thank you.  This moment is something I shall treasure, no matter what may come."  He moves a hand up to caress her cheek as he opens his eyes and looks into her. "You have no idea how much this means."

"Now you just make me proud and walk the Pattern ! I don't just hand out good luck kisses." She teases.

"We should visit Ariadne, she has to be feeling nervous too. Your both family though and both proved your strong and enduring in all those training sessions we have been doing. If I could walk the Pattern, I know the both of you can."

Finally Jade ends with a more relaxed smile as the blush starts to lighten.

*nods* "I shall do all in my power to live up to your expectations, my Sea Princess." he lets go of her hands.

"As usual, you are correct.  We need to stop by to check in and pick up Ari.  And I need to get something from the court before I head down."

Jon offers her his arm, "May I escort, my Princess?"

Jade hooks her arm through his, "Of course, I am so excited for the both of you !" She smiles.

"I wish your mother could be here, I am sure she would love to see you accomplish such an incredible deed."

She prepares to stroll with him her face the restrained smiles and excitement she usually has for some of her own undertakings is there.

*Nods* accepts her arm and guides them out into castle.
"Ari first, then I can escort your both to the top of the stairs. at least."

They make for Ari's rooms