Amber RPG: Following the first series.

[Daimbert]

Okay, so this is the IC thread for the Amber game joined from here:

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=123328&page=4

I'll make the initial posts for each player in a few minutes ...

[Daimbert]

Dirk Ericson

You were sitting in Argent relaxing and studying, when you had a surprise visitor: your uncle Gerard. While pleasantly surprised, you were curious as to why he would visit you at this time.

While Gerard is a true Amberite and thus is able and prone to misdirection, it's also true that Gerard has always been one of the most direct of all your relatives. While the two of you engaged in the normal chitchat, you could sense that he had more on his mind than a simple visit. Finally, it seemed that his patience with idle conversation finally expired, and he got to the point in his customary manner, saying bluntly, "What do you know about the disappearance of Corwin?".

[tag Dirk]

[Daimbert]

Dyson

You were enjoying a sunset in your manor's tower, overlooking smoggy Londain, watching the dragons flit to and fro, and the ornithopters making their last deliveries of the day. As you sat there, you suddenly felt a Trump contact, as someone seemed to be attempting to contact you quite urgently.

[tag Dyson]

[Daimbert]

Roland

You were riding your horse through an evening-shrouded forest, chasing down game, and, more importantly, enjoying the ride. Suddenly, you felt a Trump contact, and one that seemed quite urgent.

[tag Roland].

[Wiz]

Dirk blinks, surprised. "My father told me that they had had an argument and Corwin rode off into shadow. When he later mentioned that Uncle Corwin was still missing and rumors were flying about, I offered to begin a magical search for him, but he said it wasn't necessary - he was sure Corwin would turn up again soon."

[Alokov]

Roland

I will accept the contact,waiting to see who it is before providing further information.

[Daimbert]

Dirk blinks, surprised. "My father told me that they had had an argument and Corwin rode off into shadow. When he later mentioned that Uncle Corwin was still missing and rumors were flying about, I offered to begin a magical search for him, but he said it wasn't necessary - he was sure Corwin would turn up again soon."


Gerard studied Dirk closely, obviously trying to gauge whether or not Dirk was telling the truth. Seemingly coming to the conclusion that Dirk wasn't lying, he replied "It might be good for all involved if you in fact did join the search for Corwin ... but in person as opposed to simply magically."

[Daimbert]

Roland

I will accept the contact,waiting to see who it is before providing further information.

As Roland accepted the Trump contact, the face of his father Random appeared before his eyes. "Listen, kid, I don't have much time to talk, but I'm about to run off and do something that might be incredibly stupid and get me in some trouble. So I'd like a little back-up, just in case. Bring along something to fight with -- guns probably aren't an option -- and meet me at a certain Shadow. If I need you, I'll join you there.".

Random quickly described everything Roland would need to know to get to that Shadow, and then abruptly broke off the connection.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods to Gerard, "If that is his and your wish, of course I will. I'm assuming things are getting somewhat difficult in Amber since father didn't come himself. Is there some power play going on I should be aware of... any of the family I should be particularly carful in dealing with?"

ooc: do you want me to come up with a list of spells

[Daimbert]

Dirk nods to Gerard, "If that is his and your wish, of course I will. I'm assuming things are getting somewhat difficult in Amber since father didn't come himself. Is there some power play going on I should be aware of... any of the family I should be particularly carful in dealing with?"


Gerard simply stared somewhat intimidatingly at Dirk. "I didn't say anything about Eric's wishes, nor did I come here on his behalf. I came here on my own behalf, and on behalf of the realm, and as a friend to you. I have no intention of coming between you and your father, but I am advising you that absenting yourself from the search may have consequences ... and those consequences may involve far deeper issues than the disappearance of a Prince of Amber."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods slowly and respectfully to Gerard. "I see... Is there anything else you want to tell me about this before I begin?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson swirls his sherry in his glass, and nods.

*Yes?* he thinks, as the trump's touch strengthens within his mind.

[Alokov]

"Typical Dad." Roland shakes his head in exasperation and travels to the appropriate shadow.

[Daimbert]

Dirk nods slowly and respectfully to Gerard. "I see... Is there anything else you want to tell me about this before I begin?"

"You're smart enough to know that Corwin and your father didn't get along all that well, and that there are suspicions that your father actually had killed him. The fact that your grandfather has disappeared and so there's potentially the realm of Amber involved only increases those susipicions. The fact that you haven't been deeply involved in the search only makes people wonder if it is because you -- and your father -- already know what's happened to Corwin. Some poking around might alleviate that.

"But there's more. With your grandfather and Dworkin missing, the throne isn't secure, and that, as you know, leads to in-fighting and machinations. But in addition to that, there are ... stories, of odd things in Shadow, things that might be worrying if we had any grasp on what was true and what was not. So coming across that sort of information is important as well; perhaps more important.

"I don't wish to come between you and your father, but I trust you to let me know what I need to know, and trust you more than I trust your father. So, I'm asking if you can investigate some things and let me know if there's something I need to know to secure Amber. Can I trust you to do that?"

[Daimbert]

Dyson swirls his sherry in his glass, and nods.

*Yes?* he thinks, as the trump's touch strengthens within his mind.

The image of your father, Caine, appears in your mind's eye. "Ah, Dyson. I hope you're not too busy, because I have a mission for you."

[Lost Demiurge]

The image of your father, Caine, appears in your mind's eye. "Ah, Dyson. I hope you're not too busy, because I have a mission for you."

Dyson considers the sherry in his hand, the fuzzy slippers on his feet, and the lazy view of Londain out the window.

"Absolutely swamped. Going to take some doing to make room for you." He sends the sights along, with a slight chuckle, and downs the sherry.

"Alright, that cleared up the schedule. So, what's the task? Or shall we talk face-to-face?"

His father had speculated once, that trump communication might be insecure.

"After all", Caine had said when they were alone, "If I were the maker, I would leave in a means to listen in on the discussion of incautious users..."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Of course I can do that, Uncle Gerard... I wasn't aware that knowledge of me had become general around Amber, but I told father that it was ridiculous to assume that he could keep my existence secret in such a Machiavellian atmosphere."

ooc for the DM:The Machiavelli reference is to let Gerard know that Dirk is aware of the shadow where Eric and Corwin parted - should Gerard also know that fact. Dirk doesn't know if he's more sensitive than Eric realized or if his father slipped him the awareness of the shadow deliberately, but he's done some background research on Earth for that reason - he is not aware that Corwin is there, only that it was a place where Eric dumped Corwin. I leave it to you to determine if Gerard catches the reference and understands it - heck for all I know, Machiavelli is standard reading in Amber.

[Daimbert]

Dyson considers the sherry in his hand, the fuzzy slippers on his feet, and the lazy view of Londain out the window.

"Absolutely swamped. Going to take some doing to make room for you." He sends the sights along, with a slight chuckle, and downs the sherry.

"Alright, that cleared up the schedule. So, what's the task? Or shall we talk face-to-face?"

His father had speculated once, that trump communication might be insecure.

"After all", Caine had said when they were alone, "If I were the maker, I would leave in a means to listen in on the discussion of incautious users..."

"No, this isn't all that dramatic a mission. Things seem to be in movement in Shadow. It's been harder to travel to and from Amber lately, and there's been renewed interest in Corwin's disappearance. And then there's Oberon's and Dworkin's disappearances as well. It seems that there are some plays being made, and one of the best ways to deal with games is to increase the number of players. So it would be nice if you'd make yourself visible, ideally in the search for Corwin, so that you'll be in play should the game pick up."

[Daimbert]

Dirk nods, "Of course I can do that, Uncle Gerard... I wasn't aware that knowledge of me had become general around Amber, but I told father that it was ridiculous to assume that he could keep my existence secret in such a Machiavellian atmosphere."

ooc for the DM:The Machiavelli reference is to let Gerard know that Dirk is aware of the shadow where Eric and Corwin parted - should Gerard also know that fact. Dirk doesn't know if he's more sensitive than Eric realized or if his father slipped him the awareness of the shadow deliberately, but he's done some background research on Earth for that reason - he is not aware that Corwin is there, only that it was a place where Eric dumped Corwin. I leave it to you to determine if Gerard catches the reference and understands it - heck for all I know, Machiavelli is standard reading in Amber.

Gerard was puzzled by the comments, as if he knew that Dirk was dropping hints but couldn't figure out what those hints were. In a flash of intuition, he commented, "Should you have any ... insights on where Corwin is, I suggest you don't just go there first. And if I find out that you are hiding information from me, know that I will be most displeased with you. This is not the time for games, despite that being our family's favourite passtime."

[Wiz]

Dirk sighs, "Uncle Gerard, I know what I know and I suspect much more, as do most of us. Since you are well aware of family games, you should also know that all of us are being played all the time. Some of us, usually those who have higher motives, often more than others. If you think it is just you sending me on this task; think on it at least three times more and dissect all the conversations that led you to this decision. Chances are I'm running this errand for someone else, not just you, or the realm. However, in the hope that it will do some good, I am still quite willing to embark on it. If it is also your suggestion that I start far from my first thought rather than with it, then I will do that as well."

[Lost Demiurge]

"No, this isn't all that dramatic a mission. Things seem to be in movement in Shadow. It's been harder to travel to and from Amber lately, and there's been renewed interest in Corwin's disappearance. And then there's Oberon's and Dworkin's disappearances as well. It seems that there are some plays being made, and one of the best ways to deal with games is to increase the number of players. So it would be nice if you'd make yourself visible, ideally in the search for Corwin, so that you'll be in play should the game pick up."

"Thus giving me a good entry position into a likely minor intrigue, so I can get my feet wet and get a little experience without risking any major assets of my own."

"Alternatively if it turns out that something major is developing, then like you said, I'll be in a good spot to act. And gain even MORE experience. And of course, you'll benefit either way... As will I."

Dyson stands, and moves to his study, pulling down a plain looking saber from the wall. A flip of his wrist, and foil crinkles and falls away, as gears within the steel work, and the blade shifts and shrinks, widening as it goes. He pulls a scabbard down as well, sheathes the Gearblade, and buckles it to his belt. A few steps to the door and he's picking up a simple rucksack... Basic supplies. He always keeps a minute-bag by the door of his residences.

"I like it. The obvious starting point is in Amber, I think, if visibility's the big issue. From there, things open up. It's likely he had a personal shadow or two as well... Might be able to find some reference points during my legwork in Amber proper, but if you know anything about his old stomping grounds, I wouldn't mind a tip or directions."

He runs a quick mental check.

"For that matter, I don't suppose you have any insights on good paths to follow? Or things you'd like me to do along the way?"

[Daimbert]

Sorry, guys, I'm very busy this week, but I'll get something up in the next couple of days.

[Daimbert]

Dirk sighs, "Uncle Gerard, I know what I know and I suspect much more, as do most of us. Since you are well aware of family games, you should also know that all of us are being played all the time. Some of us, usually those who have higher motives, often more than others. If you think it is just you sending me on this task; think on it at least three times more and dissect all the conversations that led you to this decision. Chances are I'm running this errand for someone else, not just you, or the realm. However, in the hope that it will do some good, I am still quite willing to embark on it. If it is also your suggestion that I start far from my first thought rather than with it, then I will do that as well."

"I am aware of the machinations of my family", Gerard replied, somewhat coldly, "And to be honest I don't really care how it impacts the games as long as it is good for the realm. And as long as you think of Amber in your investigations, you can play whatever games you want on the side.

"I don't suggest that you alter your actions in any way based on whatever knowledge you may or may not have of Corwin's location. I'm sure that you'll eventually end up where you're supposed to end up, no matter where you start."

[Daimbert]

"Thus giving me a good entry position into a likely minor intrigue, so I can get my feet wet and get a little experience without risking any major assets of my own."

"Alternatively if it turns out that something major is developing, then like you said, I'll be in a good spot to act. And gain even MORE experience. And of course, you'll benefit either way... As will I."

Dyson stands, and moves to his study, pulling down a plain looking saber from the wall. A flip of his wrist, and foil crinkles and falls away, as gears within the steel work, and the blade shifts and shrinks, widening as it goes. He pulls a scabbard down as well, sheathes the Gearblade, and buckles it to his belt. A few steps to the door and he's picking up a simple rucksack... Basic supplies. He always keeps a minute-bag by the door of his residences.

"I like it. The obvious starting point is in Amber, I think, if visibility's the big issue. From there, things open up. It's likely he had a personal shadow or two as well... Might be able to find some reference points during my legwork in Amber proper, but if you know anything about his old stomping grounds, I wouldn't mind a tip or directions."

He runs a quick mental check.

"For that matter, I don't suppose you have any insights on good paths to follow? Or things you'd like me to do along the way?"

"Make no secret of leaving and why you're going, but there is no need to come to Amber. In the first place, it's not easy to get to Amber at the moment. Second, it would be better for you to disappear a bit into Shadow. It's best if you are a piece that's known to be in play, but that no one knows exactly where you are on the board."

He also describes a Shadow near where he thinks Corwin disappeared.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "I'll be on my way shortly, then."

I'd better conjure a shadow-traveling mount. I don't think I want to have the pain of being a stalking horse added to broken-pattern travel.

ooc: Thoughts Italicized.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson keeps his face relaxed and pleasant, as he listens to his father. When you're mind-to-mind, it's not the best time to analyze someone's truthfulness.

"All right then, I'll be off. Luck, Dad."

And with the contact ended, he considers the one-minute bag, shrugs, and goes and packs properly. A few minutes to tell his butler that he'll be out for a few weeks to a month. "I've recieved word that a formerly misplaced family member may be alive, so I'm off to retrieve him."

A few hours later, he strolls out of his Gentleman's club, smelling faintly of sherry and cigars. He smoothes his jacket, and nods. A couple of select "Keep it quiet old bean, but I've learned that my uncle..." had guaranteed that it'd be the talk of the town for a few nights. Anyone watching him, or anyone come looking for him later would hear about the carefully planted rumor.

Hailing an ornithopter back to town, he considers the skyline below.

Good night. Not much smog to it. Ah, Londain...

A bit later that night, he considers himself in the mirror. A little short, and a lot thin. Wiry, now that he'd hit his growth and put on some muscle. Tunic of green with gold piping, pants that were simple denim, dark green, so dark as to almost be black. Gold-woven cloak of green, and a black leather belt around his hips. Spectacles that he didn't really need gave his eyes an intense focus, and his black hair was pulled back in a short ponytail.

The gearblade was at his side, and he had a clockwork repeater concealed under the coat. The gun would be useless in most shadows once he got far enough out, but you never knew. As his father had taught him, he had a number of knives stored around his person. He had no other particular items on him besides a folded up, empty sack tucked into his belt.

Heading down to the stables, he selected horse #62. (After a while and enough homes in enough shadows, one got to diminishing returns on names for pets, mounts, and the like. He hadn't quite reached the level of jaded enough to start numbering people, yet.) A quick check of the saddle, and off he went.

Dad wanted to keep me from Amber. Why? Is he running something there? If so, that'd explain why he needs me far off from there... My showing up would attract attention to him, people would assume we were acting in concert. Which we are, mind, but not so much as to share the details. For him to share the details.

Well.

Enough speculation, task at hand right now is investigation.
And he starts off down cobbled streets, past neatly trimmed lawns.

A few turns later, the lawns aren't so neatly trimmed, and the cobbles are octagonal.

Then there are no cobbles, and the trees are pressing in on either side...

Dyson starts riding toward the shadow that Caine described, keeping his eye out for anything interesting as he goes.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Things are still busy, so I'll try to get more replies up later in the week. The good news is that after this week, things should settle down so I have more time to post ... and I don't plan on disappearing [grin].

[Daimbert]

OOC - And Alokov gets back into the game [grin]!


"Typical Dad." Roland shakes his head in exasperation and travels to the appropriate shadow.

When Roland arrived, all he could see was a vast, barren wasteland. There was no sign of his father anywhere. But soon, shapes appeared in the distance, moving fast. As they approached, Roland could see that they had uniformly bloodshot eyes, sharp, forward curving spurs on the backs of their hands, and prominent jaws. Without even a single word, they rushed to the attack.

[Daimbert]

Then there are no cobbles, and the trees are pressing in on either side...

Dyson starts riding toward the shadow that Caine described, keeping his eye out for anything interesting as he goes.

When he arrived at the shadow, it seemed like a simple, pastoral area. An open field stretched before him, while a small woods appeared over to his left. Suddenly, from out of the woods, a small group of figures appeared. They had uniformly bloodshot eyes, sharp, forward curving spurs on the backs of their hands, and prominent jaws. They quickly rushed to the attack.

[Daimbert]

OOC - I'm going to move things along a bit here; let me know if I say anything hugely out of place.


Dirk nods, "I'll be on my way shortly, then."

I'd better conjure a shadow-traveling mount. I don't think I want to have the pain of being a stalking horse added to broken-pattern travel.

ooc: Thoughts Italicized.

Dirk headed out into Shadow after conjuring his mount. He decided to stick close to "Earth", since his father had told him that Flora had a home there and it would be nice to have some help or support nearby if he ran into trouble, or had the Broken Pattern go bad on him.

He was randomly exploring a barren, non-descript Shadow when some figures jumped out at him. They had uniformly bloodshot eyes, sharp, forward curving spurs on the backs of their hands, and prominent jaws. Without a word, they leaped to the attack.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson blinks.

The hell? Fast, doesn't look like I can outride 'em. Okay, time to even up some odds.

He turns and rides hard, looking for water. He finds it with no trouble, and follows the creek to a small gorge. Here. He thinks.

He dismounts from the horse, and sends it up the gorge a little ways with a few commands. There's only room for one or two to come at him this way.

He pulls the clockwork repeater from his belt and triggers it at a nearby tree, nodding at the results. Then he sheathes it again, gives the Gearblade a shake, and the strange weapon grinds, twists, lengthens, and transforms itself into a polearm. He takes a firm grip on it, and glares down the trail.

[Lost Demiurge]

(*Please tell me you guys aren't waiting to see how I do before you post.*)

[Daimbert]

(*Please tell me you guys aren't waiting to see how I do before you post.*)

That would lead to an infinite loop, since I'm waiting for them to reply before posting how you do [grin].

It's only been a couple of days, after a long lay-off on my part. Let's give them a bit more time ...

EDIT: PM'ed them just in case they missed it ...

[Wiz]

Dirk headed out into Shadow after conjuring his mount. He decided to stick close to "Earth", since his father had told him that Flora had a home there and it would be nice to have some help or support nearby if he ran into trouble, or had the Broken Pattern go bad on him.

He was randomly exploring a barren, non-descript Shadow when some figures jumped out at him. They had uniformly bloodshot eyes, sharp, forward curving spurs on the backs of their hands, and prominent jaws. Without a word, they leaped to the attack.

Dirk casts a spell infused with broken pattern energy that summons the spinning symbol quickly to mind and sends out psychic tendrils from the dark well, but tendrils infused with magic so that they have a physical form and strength equal to his immense psyche. The tendrils, which look like lines of animated lightening reach out to grasp his assailants and hold them immobile.

[Daimbert]

I'll wait until Saturday, and then move the two who have posted along unless Alokov posts by then.

[Daimbert]

Dirk casts a spell infused with broken pattern energy that summons the spinning symbol quickly to mind and sends out psychic tendrils from the dark well, but tendrils infused with magic so that they have a physical form and strength equal to his immense psyche. The tendrils, which look like lines of animated lightening reach out to grasp his assailants and hold them immobile.

After a very short time struggling against the tendrils, the attackers suddenly stop resisting and allow the tendrils to push them slightly to the back or one side, depending on the force they were applying at the time. They then vanished.

Hearing a noise behind him, Dirk spun around to see them approaching from the other direction.

[Daimbert]

Dyson blinks.

The hell? Fast, doesn't look like I can outride 'em. Okay, time to even up some odds.

He turns and rides hard, looking for water. He finds it with no trouble, and follows the creek to a small gorge. Here. He thinks.

He dismounts from the horse, and sends it up the gorge a little ways with a few commands. There's only room for one or two to come at him this way.

He pulls the clockwork repeater from his belt and triggers it at a nearby tree, nodding at the results. Then he sheathes it again, gives the Gearblade a shake, and the strange weapon grinds, twists, lengthens, and transforms itself into a polearm. He takes a firm grip on it, and glares down the trail.

Two of the creatures rushed into the gap, directly at him, clearly preparing to attack with their fists.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson lunges at the first one, with an all-out attack, attempting to skewer it with the foot-long blade on the end of his polearm. The crossguard below the blade should keep it from charging on down the shaft at him.

He attempts to skewer it, then kicks at the other one as it closes, retracting the polearm down into a short, chopping configuration, switching to a defensive style, taking opportunistic attacks against the next foe.

[Wiz]

OOC: That tiny level of movement allows them to shift shadow?!? Okay, let me think on this one, I'll post back later.

[Daimbert]

OOC: That tiny level of movement allows them to shift shadow?!? Okay, let me think on this one, I'll post back later.

I thought that I remembered a comment somewhere that it could, and you didn't need all that many steps to actually shift shadow. I could be wrong, though.

[Wiz]

ooc: It's your universe, so you can't be wrong, it just took me by surprise. I remember that in the courts of Chaos, Corwin, when blocked by a wall of fire had to ride his horse furiously in circles several times before he could shift a gap in the wall large enough to ride through - and that it took Brand by surprise, so it was no easy feat. Also, there is some question (in my mind at least) about shifting out something holding you in place... his brothers and sisters couldn't Trump Brand out of his chains (at least not without leaving his limbs behind) so Gerard had to jump through and cut him free. I'm not questioning your decision, just expressing how your interpretation of some of the book differs from mine.

[Daimbert]

ooc: It's your universe, so you can't be wrong, it just took me by surprise. I remember that in the courts of Chaos, Corwin, when blocked by a wall of fire had to ride his horse furiously in circles several times before he could shift a gap in the wall large enough to ride through - and that it took Brand by surprise, so it was no easy feat. Also, there is some question (in my mind at least) about shifting out something holding you in place... his brothers and sisters couldn't Trump Brand out of his chains (at least not without leaving his limbs behind) so Gerard had to jump through and cut him free. I'm not questioning your decision, just expressing how your interpretation of some of the book differs from mine.

Brand was in a prison specifically designed to hold him in that fashion, so that's a special case, and in Corwin's case he was tired and being actively opposed, so they aren't indicative.

We also aren't really sure how these things move through Shadow, so it might not work on the same principles as the Pattern.

At any rate, this is what happens when I try to get cute [grin].

If anyone has any objections, I can re-do it and get what I want another way. I was trying to be creative, which might be a bad idea [grin].

I want this to work for everyone, because this is my first time and I don't want to screw anyone over accidentally.

Note that you don't have to worry TOO much about these guys ...

[Lost Demiurge]

(OOC) Hey, it's cool with me. Please continue.

Though, could I ask that we pick up the pace a bit? Posting every 3-6 days isn't my favorite way of playing...

[Wiz]

ooc: I don't mind, however you want to do it. Keep it intact as it was, or change it. I was just expressing an uncertainty about a different interpretation of the novels. Increased pacing woudl be good for me too. :)

[Daimbert]

ooc: I don't mind, however you want to do it. Keep it intact as it was, or change it. I was just expressing an uncertainty about a different interpretation of the novels. Increased pacing woudl be good for me too. :)

Right now, I'm basically waiting for your next move [grin].

(Or Alokov, but he's been offline for a couple of weeks. I'll move his character along for a little bit in case he's just been away, and then write the character out if it goes too long.)

Once we get more regular posting, things should go better. I was busy again this week, but needed Wiz's post to move things along since right now I'd like to move things along in lock-step for a bit.

Once the party all gets together (hint-hint), posting should improve.

[Wiz]

Dirk is slightly startled, not only can his enemies shift shadow, they can apparently do it very quickly. "All right... kid gloves off then." He gestures and another burst of silver lightening erupts from his hand the bolts turning into conjured replicas of his silver dagger... a full five score of silver blades hurling at his enemies like an overshadowing flight of arrows, sped by magic and will. Each dagger contains a fragment of broken pattern that by it's flaw seeks the flaw in an opponent's defense, turning each attack into deadly damage.

[Daimbert]

Dyson lunges at the first one, with an all-out attack, attempting to skewer it with the foot-long blade on the end of his polearm. The crossguard below the blade should keep it from charging on down the shaft at him.

He attempts to skewer it, then kicks at the other one as it closes, retracting the polearm down into a short, chopping configuration, switching to a defensive style, taking opportunistic attacks against the next foe.

Dyson's attack on the first was successful, and it went down fairly quickly. Moving on to the next opponent, while his foe was relatively fast and strong it was no match for a scion of Amber. In a reasonably short amount of time, it joined its companion in death. Dyson managed to essentially repeat the same process for all of his foes until they all lay dead at his feet.

But a mere minute later, Dyson saw another group of six figures, identical in appearance and number to the ones he had just dispatched, approaching yet again.

[Daimbert]

Dirk is slightly startled, not only can his enemies shift shadow, they can apparently do it very quickly. "All right... kid gloves off then." He gestures and another burst of silver lightening erupts from his hand the bolts turning into conjured replicas of his silver dagger... a full five score of silver blades hurling at his enemies like an overshadowing flight of arrows, sped by magic and will. Each dagger contains a fragment of broken pattern that by it's flaw seeks the flaw in an opponent's defense, turning each attack into deadly damage.

The attacks succeeded, and all the creatures were killed by the display of massive magical power.

But shortly thereafter, 6 new opponents of the same type appeared and charged towards him.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson snaps his wrist, flicking claw-man blood from his blade, and sheathes it as he sighs.

Alright. Someone's filled this shadow full of endless stupidly agressive beast-men. Lovely.

He runs up the canyon, rejoins his horse, mounts, and rides.

Shifting as he goes, he envisions a wasteland of deserts and plains, and wills it to be, subtracting details here and adding them there...

[Wiz]

Dirk frowns, "Okay, since it's not reasonable that these groups would be tracking me down this quickly, I'll have to assume I've managed to get into a shadow trap of some kind, one which generates these foes." He casts another spell, one which reaches through the dark well to teleport him to an adjacent shadow, hopefully outside the trap.

[Daimbert]

Dyson snaps his wrist, flicking claw-man blood from his blade, and sheathes it as he sighs.

Alright. Someone's filled this shadow full of endless stupidly agressive beast-men. Lovely.

He runs up the canyon, rejoins his horse, mounts, and rides.

Shifting as he goes, he envisions a wasteland of deserts and plains, and wills it to be, subtracting details here and adding them there...

Suddenly, as you cross an open field running across rolling green hills, you see two figures that you seem to recognize. Pausing in your shifting for a moment to look back at your attackers, you notice that they are still following you. Since you have shifted Shadows, it seems that they are following you through Shadow. Glancing up, you notice that each of the other figures seem to have their own versions of your attackers pursuing them, and that your and their course will have you all meet up in the middle of the field.

[Daimbert]

Dirk frowns, "Okay, since it's not reasonable that these groups would be tracking me down this quickly, I'll have to assume I've managed to get into a shadow trap of some kind, one which generates these foes." He casts another spell, one which reaches through the dark well to teleport him to an adjacent shadow, hopefully outside the trap.

As the spell fades, you re-appear in an open field on rolling, green hills. Intuitively, you sense that this is indeed Earth, where your Aunt Flora was residing. As you look around you, you notice two other figures heading towards the centre of the field, whom you recognize. You note that they have their own attackers -- exactly the same as yours -- following them ... and note with a sigh that your attackers have somehow managed to follow you through Shadow to your new location.

[Daimbert]

OOC - I need to know how well you know the other two, or how well they can be expected to know you. I made the presumption that they'd have seen you around once or twice at least, but tried not to hint at anything more than that.

[Wiz]

ooc - it sort of depends. From the original series we got that most of the parents of offspring didn't like to reveal them to the rest of the family (for good reason). However, each of our parents probably has their own spy networks for gathering information, so how secret is any secret? I figure I've been introduced around Amber as a Prince of a shadow called Argent, others have probably made a guess that I'm probably Eric's son. I leave it to the other players what they know, or think they know about me. Furthermore, I'm open to any level of previous interaction in Amber or other shadows whether we knew who we really were or not. :)

[Lost Demiurge]

OOC: I figure I've seen them on trumps, if nothing else. Dad's private trumps, he probably paints new ones whenever he finds out about a new relative.

But beyond names and faces, that's about it.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Good. Then I'll assume for the time being that you know who each other are and know which Amberite is your parent (or at least strongly suspect) but nothing more unless somebody brings it up.

BTW, the other person is Roland. I'll drag him along a bit in case Alokov comes back, but I have a plan for easing him out later if Alokov doesn't. Since the first thread was Alokov's, I'd feel bad to just drop the character out if he's just unavailable for a while.

Oh, and I think we can ignore the OOC thread; there aren't enough of us so that OOC chatter will really mess up the IC thread.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson gallops to the center of the field, looking up at the two figures ahead. "Afternoon."

He leaps off the horse, snapping the Gearblade. It grinds and rings, popping into a sickle and chain combination, what one particular shadow-culture would call a Kusari-Gama.

"I trust there are no objections if we skip standing on ceremony while we slaughter these things?"

He shoos his horse into the middle of the loose triangle of Amberites, turns to face his pursuers, and sets the sickle to spinning.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Okay, I don't want to trump Wiz here, but there isn't really anything interesting going on here so I'll move it along a bit. We can backfill if necessary.

IC - Standing back-to-back, the three sons of Amber fought a desperate battle against their attackers. While the attackers individually were not particularly dangerous, their numbers meant that they posed a threat. However, the resources of Amberites cannot be understated. With blade and spell and even a bit of technology, the three decimated their foes. Eventually, all that was left were the bodies lying on the blood soaked ground around them.

The three were tired and had suffered various minor injuries in the attack. They were also uncertain if there would be any new attacks and if this was just a brief lull in the battle.

[tag all]

[Wiz]

ooc - Sorry, sometimes I forget to post if I don't see other activity, my bad.

Dirk blasts away with short, sharp spells that look like silver lightening, tinged with red. Each opponent struck grabs his head like his brain is on fire and collapses (psyche based death spells) The unusual part (if you know anything about sorcery) is that he doesn't seem to be running out of them. When the carnage ends (or pauses), he glances at the others, "Roland... and Dyson, isn't it?"

[Daimbert]

ooc - Sorry, sometimes I forget to post if I don't see other activity, my bad.

Dirk blasts away with short, sharp spells that look like silver lightening, tinged with red. Each opponent struck grabs his head like his brain is on fire and collapses (psyche based death spells) The unusual part (if you know anything about sorcery) is that he doesn't seem to be running out of them. When the carnage ends (or pauses), he glances at the others, "Roland... and Dyson, isn't it?"

Roland

"Dirk Ericson, I presume", Roland replied, somewhat coldly. He knew that his father and Eric didn't really get along, and wasn't sure how that would or should translate to Eric's son.

He then nodded a little more warmly towards Dyson, but was still wary. Neither of these were scions of the more trustworthy Amberites, if there was such a thing. "Dyson, " he greeted him.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Here's what I'm doing with Roland:

Since Alokov started this, I'm hesitant to simply drop the character in case he's simply been too busy or lost connection or something. So, my plan is to drag Roland along a bit and get him far enough in that the character is at least somewhat involved ... and then ease the character out (I already have a plan for that). Hopefully, I can get Roland far enough along in this -- ie aware of the "main plot" -- that if Alokov comes back later he can slide back in. Otherwise, the character will disappear and probably not be mentioned again.

I hope this works for everyone.

[Lost Demiurge]

(Sure, works for me.)

Dyson flicks blood from the sickle part of the Gearblade, collapses it into a sword again, and sheathes it. Then he looks up, and touches the brim of his hat as he grins.

"Yes, Dyson. Roland and... Dirk? Well met."

The smile fades a little as Roland glares. Dyson's eyes roll slightly for a microsecond, but he doesn't let it affect the friendliness in his voice.

"I'm assuming that I'm looking at two other intrepid participants in the great Uncle hunt of 831?"

[Wiz]

Eric seems unphased by the cold greeting from Roland. "Yes, indeed. It was suggested that I participate in the search. If you have similar stories than I would be so bold as to suggest we were set up. Though I do wonder at the relative ineffectiveness of our opposition."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Not so sure it's a setup. Not with the intent of killing the hell out of us, anyway. But we can discuss conspiracy theories over wine, I think... We raised some dust in that fight and I'm quite thirsty. If no one objects, I'll ride us to a tavern?"

And he mounts up on his (unscratched) horse, looking to see how the other two take his invitation.

[Daimbert]

Roland

"I'm only here because my father said that he might stir up some trouble and need some help, so you might just have caught the tail-end of whatever he hit. Anyway, does anyone recognize this Shadow? Since these things followed us through Shadow, it might be a good idea to find someplace to recover here, instead of wandering off again."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Can't say it's familiar to me. Similar to a few places, but... No." He shakes his head, and considers the scenery.

"Got no objections to catching a drink in a local place. Lead on."

[Wiz]

Dirk purses his lips, "The shadow's name is Earth. Princess Florimel lives here." Those who are canny might see a flicker of something else about the place which Dirk is deliberately failing to mention.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson raises an eyebrow. "Is that so? Wonder if she knows about the beastmen infestation next door."

Or if she set it up herself... He doesn't voice the thought, but it's an obvious enough path of logic to follow.

"Well. Earth, hm? Any good places to see around here?"

[Daimbert]

Roland

Roland raised an eyebrow. "We don't even know if there aren't going to be any more of those beastmen attacking us, and you want to go sightseeing?" he asked somewhat incredulously.

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs, "They have some good cities with different flavors, I've heard good things about: New Orleans, Paris, and Rome. Depends on what you like. I think Princess Florimel lives in a place called Upstate, New York."

[Lost Demiurge]

Roland

Roland raised an eyebrow. "We don't even know if there aren't going to be any more of those beastmen attacking us, and you want to go sightseeing?" he asked somewhat incredulously.

Dyson glances over.

"Yes, actually. For a number of reasons... But if you prefer, we could go find someplace defensible, and see if any more of them show up."

He looks back to Dirk.

"What do you think?"

[Wiz]

Dirk looks thoughtful. "Well there are three of us, but it never hurts to have more. Particularly if whomever attacks us ups the stakes. Why not head to Florimel's place. If they are not her minions, we are doing a favor by warning her, and we have her resources to add to our own. If they are her minions we may discover something by confronting her."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Works for me." Nods Dyson. He offers a hand down to Dirk. "Unless you'd care to obtain a horse yourself, I've no objection to riding double until we hit civilization."

[Daimbert]

Roland

"Sounds good to me, " Roland added.

OOC - I'll move you along tomorrow sometime; I need to look up how to describe the house.

And some other things, and I don't have time to do that tonight.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "No problem." He takes a hand and climbs up into the saddle.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson lets Roland take the lead, and follows at an easy pace.

He had to admit, the terrain's an easy, relaxing ride. Still, the adrenaline in his system won't let him settle down completely, and he finds his eyes flicking back and forth, keeping watch on the horizon.

This fight was the first time he'd actually killed anyone. It was bothering him a little, but not because he felt bad. It bothered him because he DIDN'T feel bad. Maybe because these were shadow creatures? They didn't speak. Maybe that was it. Or maybe he'd feel different when the adrenaline wore off.

Glancing back forward at Roland, he considered him for few moments. Easy on the eyes. Not that it matters since he's family. Seems rather wound up. Maybe because his father's using him as a distraction? That's the most likely explanation for his presence out here, if he's telling the truth. Heh, it's mine, too, probably. Ah well, time enough for speculation for once we're behind walls.

He turns his head slightly toward Dirk. That was some serious magic, back there. And he kept a level head throughout, I was checking. And not too much pride to ride double on a horse. I'm rather glad he passed that test. Bit early to tell and we might be at each other's throats down the road, but I think I like him. Might even consider him a friend someday.

Anyway, best to get some basics out of the way while things are relatively peaceful.

"So, Earth. Don't suppose there are any strange laws of shadow to watch out for? Magical quirks, chemical oddities, people suddenly falling up into the sky when they utter the wrong syllables while painted blue on Tuesdays, swords made of rare metals that combust when exposed to human blood? More to the point, what kind of weapons dominate here, and what might we expect to encounter or use to our advantage?"

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs, "In this time frame, as I understand it, there are no real practitioners of magic... unless they've been taught it from out of shadow. They have a strong magical mythology covering many different traditions, but have produced relatively few who could tap into the true art, and as far as I'm aware they have no local node to initiate to... like the pattern or logrus. The dominant culture is moderate-level technologically, barely on the verge of producing molecular machines. They speak a variety of languages, but country Princess Florimel lives in uses one called English. Physically, the humans (as they call themselves) look like Amberites, but are much weaker physically. They have produced some amazing thinkers: Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Miyamoto Mushashi."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods. "English instead of Aenglish, Machiavelli to Machiaborgia, Sun Tzu instead of Doctor Sin Sung... And from what you mentioned earlier, New Yorick to New York. Alright, I've got a frame of reference. Sounds like some of my regular stomping grounds aren't too different in the general scheme of things. Thanks for the heads-up, I'll adjust my strategy accordingly."

[Wiz]

Dirk frowns, looking throughtful. "Interesting... it actually sounds like your shadow might be a shadow of this one. Which would mean that something has lent some additional reality to this one. I wouldn't think the mere presence of one amberite, such as Princess Florimel could have that kind of effect. This might actually prove to be a challenging conundrum." He waves a hand and a bolt of silver-red lightening flashes into the air, creating a strange ripple in reality that flares out, eventually disappearing beyond the horizon. "There... the echo should bounce back within the hour and I will have a fair analysis of this place in terms of realia, time-flow, magical foci, and any powers that might have links to this place."

[Lost Demiurge]

"The presence of one Amberite wouldn't do it? But another..." Dyson shakes his head, and looks back down the trail. Tapping his spectacles with one finger, he ponders. "No. Bit too early to be making assumptions. You've got the right of it, we'll see what your spell comes back with. Nice trick by the way... Somewhat like a bat's sonar, or a grand dragon's aethersense."

"Still, best to run multiple tests with multiple methods. By the look of recent events, someone set up a shadowtrap with those beastmen, and I find it no coincidence all three of us were dumped into the same location once we started repositioning. Someone's worked the shadow around here, they could have easily done it to catch the unwary or test the capabilities of those who come hunting."

[Wiz]

Dirk nodded, "What is more... is that our repositioning was not identical. I used enhanced magic to jump one shadow over, and I'm assuming you hellrode. It smacks rather of someone putting this shadow in our path, which is a much greater power than mere attunement to the pattern." He ponders, "My father could do it, and Aunt Fiona, but I'm not sure who else." He looks around as the ride continues. "It might be some sort of defense my father put into place around the shadow in general... and he could have bolstered the shadow too, for Aunt Flora. If I get a good signal on my spell I might be able to get a sense of whomever may have worked the shadow... if it has been worked. If it was my father, I will recognize his signature right away."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods. "Odd. Hm..."

"This... Call it a "ping" spell of yours. Babbage-engine term, but that's beside the point... Anyway, let me make sure I understand. As you've explained it, the spell goes out, bounces off anything significant, and returns to you? More or less like sending up a flare that falls back to your position?"

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Yes, and of course it is quite possible for a clever or prepared spellcaster to either pick up the original ping... triangulate if they had multiple sensors, and locate that position, or for a cleverer or even more prepared sorcerer to follow the wave on it's return - so if you think that is likely, we should prepare against the possibility of another attack."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Good to see we're thinking along similar lines. There's a collapsible cartridge rifle in my right saddlebag. If you'd care to take it out and assemble the gun, it might come in handy."

[Wiz]

Dirk pulls out the rifle and begins assembling it with little aplomb. He seems to be very competent with mechanical things. "So, in your stomping grounds - Aerth? - they use Babbage-engines?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"So, in your stomping grounds - Aerth? - they use Babbage-engines?"

Dirk can't help but see that the rifle's magazine is empty of bullets.

"I call the place Falkenstein, actually. Long story as to why, not important really. But yes, large steam-driven machines that fill entire warehouses. Good for calculating things, really hit their stride after the DarkJaeger war. Pain to keep maintaining though, The most famous one got a curious fire sprite in the aether cylinders and the engines stopped working for days. Cost the crown a pretty penny to fix, and actually lead to machines being called "Spritish" when they act up. Funny how language drifts... Even in Amber, when you think about it."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Eric told me once that workers on Earth here in a place called France fought against industrialization by throwing their wooden shoes into the gears of the machines. The shoes, called sabots, led to a word in English called Sabotage." He smiles, "Languages and their derivations are a particular interest of mine... I think that many of the changes in Thari are reflected in the languages of Amber's many shadows." He offers the rifle to Dyson, "You seem to be out of bullets."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson glances backward.

"Now, see, that's a question."

"Is it Thari that influences the change in the shadow languages, or is it the shadow languages that influence changes in Thari? Or is it a bit of a give and take?"

"I mean, few of our relatives spend ALL their time in Amber. Most of them live out in shadow, and even the most sedentary must wander, from time to time. Only the nearest shadows to Amber speak Thari, and far enough shadows speak completely different languages- if the people there speak at all. So it seems natural to assume that our relatives travel out and return to Amber with new words, some of which get incorporated into the tongue of Amber."

"Take the words you used earlier... "Molecular machines". I'm pretty sure that the very concept they explain didn't originate in Amber. I'm damn sure that whatever those machines do, they likely won't work in Amber. It looks like Thari didn't influence the development of those words."

"But here they are."

"So... The most likely explanation, seems to me that while Thari influences the nearest shadows to Amber... The farthest shadows from Amber influence it right back. Or some degree of resonance guarantees that changes in one part can have subtle effects through the entire structure."

"Just a theory. I haven't been around long enough or observed long enough to test it."

"Oh, and the rifle's for you. I'll need one hand on the reigns if things get dicey, and that takes two hands to use. Going to save the bullets until we're certain enemies are incoming... Not entirely certain the powder mix between Aerth and Earth is the same, best not to test it until it becomes necessary."

And, well, my father would gut me and find another child to start with if he found out I'd given you one of my weapons AND the ammunition and turned my back to you for a long horseride. Principle of the thing. Dyson keeps that particular thought to himself.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "All right, but I usually prefer my magic to technology."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dirk nods, "All right, but I usually prefer my magic to technology."

"Fair enough." Says Dyson.

And they ride.

[Daimbert]

OOC - So, I'll move you along.

IC - As you rode towards Flora's Westchester house -- drawing some stares along with way as people aren't really used to seeing people on horseback, especially armed -- Dirk's "ping" spell returned.

When you arrive at the house, the area seems deserted. Tethering or otherwise securing your horses, you approach the front door. Finding it unlocked, you move into the house and find yourselves in a living room. The living room has various furniture and looks quite stylish and opulent, except that you notice a rather ugly statue of some sort of creature on one wall.

You don't see anyone in this room or hear anything other than your own footsteps and conversations.

[Wiz]

Dirk frowns, "Well, I don't detect anything unusual."

[Lost Demiurge]

"I do." Says Dyson.

"The front door was unlocked, and there are no servants that I can see... Or hear."

He walks up and considers the statue.

"I think that, given the proximity of random Amberite-attacking beastmen to this shadow, we owe it to our aunt to investigate a bit and make sure she's okay. That would be the utterly responsible thing to do."

And it gives us an excuse to search her house. he thinks.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Presuming that Wiz didn't want to argue about that ...

IC - The next room you walk into is a library ... or, perhaps, it might be better to say that it WAS a library. The room is trashed; bookshelves shattered, the desk overturned, and it looks like the chairs were hurled against the wall. You see no blood or signs of injury.

As you scan the room, eventually your attention turns to the wall where you entered, and you notice another statue that looks like the one you saw in the living room, although in a slightly different pose. Considering the condition of the room, it's odd that there is no damage on that statue ... and considering what it looks like, you'd think that it would be one of the first things destroyed.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Hm."

Says Dyson.

"That statue is definitely out-of-place. Just like the last one is..."

He walks over and considers it, before snapping his fingers in front of its eyes.

[Wiz]

Dirk looks at the statue, trying to puzzle it out, he glances back in the other room, comparing the poses. "I think you're on to something... they definitely don't match Aunt Florimel's sense of aesthetics."

[Daimbert]

There was no reaction from the statue to the snapping.

As Dirk moves back a bit to look back into the living room, he notices that there is no longer any statue in the living room.

[Wiz]

Dirk frowns, "Okay... it's gone from the living room. Perhaps it's following us?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"Huh. Cheap tricks." Says Dyson.

"Alright, fun's over. Start talking, pal." He pokes the statue in the chest.

[Wiz]

Dirk stands ready in case the statue does anything. Meanwhile he examines its features, trying to see if there's anything familiar.

[Daimbert]

The eyes of the statue suddenly lit up with a bright, clear, emerald green light, the mouth opened and to your amazement laughter emerged, in a strong male voice.

"Bwa, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. 'Start talking, pal' indeed. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I thought (hee) that you'd be smart enough to get it eventually, but 'Start talking, pal'. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Then with what sounded like an intake of breath, the speaker got himself under control.

"Greetings, Amberites. I've been expecting you. We have much to discuss, but even this link isn't secure. I can tell you that the fate of Amber itself may hinge on our discussions, but won't say any more until we meet in person. I know it sounds like I'm not telling you much and this is quite sudden, but then three such strong Amberites shouldn't have much to fear, should you? And we don't actually have a lot of time. What do you say?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"Works for me." Says Dyson. He glances at the others. "I think I can skip the usual spiel about what will happen if this is a trap. You seem sensible enough, gargoyles aside."

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs, "So... how do you want to go about arranging this meeting?"

[Daimbert]

"Dirk Ericson, you are the key. You should lead the way and simply walk through Shadow. Be somewhat aimless, and don't concentrate too much on where you're going. I shall take care of the rest."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Well then." Dyson adjusts his glove, hiding and replacing the knife he was holding ready at the edge of his sleeve when poking the statue.

"No time like the present. Shall we be off?"

[Wiz]

Dirk nods realizing that this stranger does not know much about him, blithely suggesting that he stroll through shadow. Still, nothing is impossible - He focuses for a moment, and speaks a short spell, causing a walking stick appears in his hand. He begins strolling, using the stick as he walks, aimlessly moving along.

Conjuration spell for an item that grants Shadow walking. The voice obviously didn't realize that Dirk lacks pattern attunement - he can't do the kind of shadow walking others do.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson shrugs and follows Dirk.

Whoa. Conjuration lets you mimic a 50 point power?

[Daimbert]

OOC - A second to pause.

Wiz, I thought Dirk was a Broken Pattern Adept (I just checked). I checked and you get a form of Shadow Walking from that, by following the flaws in Shadows. That's what the voice is referring to. If I got that wrong, then we can re-adjust.

[Wiz]

ooc - well, you can follow the flaws from one shadow to another, but it's a relatively uncontrolled thing, you have to follow the set paths (read fractures) - and the paths of Dirk's broken pattern tend to lead him through areas of violence (i.e. wars, riots, etc.) - but you can conjure an item that allows magic travel through shadows (4 points) - not as good as the Amber power, but more reliable than broken pattern travel. What Dirk doesn't understand here is simple, you have someone with broken pattern, which means he's a 2 cylinder Model T that breaks down a lot, and another two people with Full Pattern, which means they are Corvette Stingrays equipped with V-8 engines. Why would the voice insist the Model T is the way to go?

[Daimbert]

OOC - Ah, I get it now. And since I'm trying to be clever ...

IC - "No, " the voice broke in before Dirk could move too far away from the statue. "Not that way. If I had wanted regular Shadow Walking, I'd have asked anyone to do it. Instead, you must follow the Broken Pattern; that is the only way you will get to your destination. "

[Wiz]

Dirk pauses, looks at his walking stick, then shrugs. "All right... since we're going to take the way of the broken pattern, you two need to be ready for a lot of violence, think of it like the worst hellride you've ever been on. My pattern has only one break, but it makes up for that by being a leviathan of a break. Stay close, and try to avoid shifting shadow yourself; don't even manipulate probability. If you get lost on this path... well, one reason my magic is powerful is that the dark well of this pattern is very deep!" He pauses for a moment, readying his mind for the task.

He resets his standard 12 spells - making 9 of them a specialized quick broken pattern based attack (psychic jujitsu) that will destabilize single opponents through mind touch and send them hurtling into the dark well. He also readies three broken-pattern based safety line spells that he can quickly retrieve someone who is falling into the dark well.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Broken pattern? Huh." Says Dyson.

This should be interesting. Sounds suspicious at the very least.

"Lay on, Macduff."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "If you weren't familiar with the concept it's obvious when you think about it. Since all the shadow worlds are derived from Amber, then some of them would contain an image of the pattern as well - perhaps all of them do, but by definition, those images can't be as perfect as the original. Broken Patterns follow the same design of the pattern, but there are breaks in it, causing the energies to flow out of the lines." He shrugs, "They're not as powerful as the original - and it can be challenging to use them, but they can also be mastered more easily."

[Daimbert]

OOC - I'm going to assume that there isn't really anything big to do at this point, so I'll move it along ...

IC - Dirk started moving through Shadow, cautiously, finding the first and most convenient break and following it to the next Shadow. The compatriots skimmed quickly through a few dimensions, and only caught glimpses at fairly violent scenes as they passed. Soon, however, the shifting of Shadows occurred at a faster pace, and began to move without much if any conscious will on Dirk's part. He tried to throttle it back, but it continued to increase until it was a blur. Just before Dirk was about to pull the plug on the out-of-control walking, it stopped. Taking a minute to catch their breath and recover from the experience, the first thing that everyone notices is a large castle right in front of them, and that there are no signs of anything violent anywhere near them. Clearly, this is their destination ... and it's a hell of a way to get them there.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Now that IS intriguing." Says Dyson, as they walk and observe. "The implications of this are pretty far-out. Now, theoretically, if there's imperfect copies of the pattern in other worlds, then it follows to reason that there are inhabitants of shadow capable of walking those imperfect copies."

He glances around at a ghetto that bleeds under moonlight, with doors of flesh and buildings of bone, and at the insects the size of volkswagons that eat at it. Then flicker, and they're gone.

"And judging by our excursion, it seems that walking this 'Broken Pattern' bestows partial ability to manuver shadow. And yet we're not flooded with shadow walkers. Sure, there's the occasional sorceror or adventurer with a bizarre artifact, but that's magic and that's different."

He looks at Dirk as they jog through a steel city with serpents pulsing endlessly through holes in the ground that hiss and strike at crucified masses of bloody flesh, writhing upon metal X's that hum like power lines. His sword flicks out to decapitate a monster snake that draws too near, then flicker, and they're gone.

"Now, if the broken patterns take them through the worst bits of shadow, then you'd think violence would account for some. But we'd still run into more out there."

He tilts his head, as they pass through a wasteland with mushroom clouds rising on the horizon, and stars bursting in the sky, shrieking like living things as they disappear forever into the void, then flicker, and the three Amberites move on.

"Wait. Maybe we DO. Maybe our parents and uncles and aunts DO. I mean, you're treating it like it's no great secret. Is that the case? That our relatives know of this 'Broken Pattern' phenomena, and prefer not to speak of it?"

Then they're at the castle.

"Frustrating at times. Nothing tends to retard the concept of science and experimentation like the presence of grudges between people capable of researching these things. And hell hath no fury like an immortal, solipsistic grudge. Ah well, looks like we're here. I'll be pleasantly surprised if it's not a trap or ambush, but we'll see."

[Daimbert]

He glances around at a ghetto that bleeds under moonlight, with doors of flesh and buildings of bone, and at the insects the size of volkswagons that eat at it. Then flicker, and they're gone.

OOC - Nice work on filling in the scenes [grin]

[Lost Demiurge]

OOC - Nice work on filling in the scenes [grin]

OOC: Thanks, my pleasure. :)

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs, "Only someone with higher pattern attunement can manipulate the broken patterns... like my father. It was he who repaired the many breaks and focused it on one single break - the way of violence. I'm assuming that he wanted me schooled by such difficulties. Our host obviously also has higher-order attunement to the pattern, else he or she could not have created the path that led us here."

[Daimbert]

As you study your surroundings more carefully, you get a better sense of the castle and where you are. The castle looks like a prime example of old Amber architecture, similar to many buildings that you have seen in Amber itself. It's style is reminiscent of the buildings that were around before the births of your fathers and uncles, when only Benedict was around.

You are standing in the courtyard of the castle. The castle itself is a burnished and deep emerald green. Before you is what would be the main hall in any of these castles. The emerald double doors to the main entrance stand open before you, and you can see the short passageway leading to the stairs that should -- if you all recall your lessons properly -- lead to the main throne room.

"I'm going to guess that whoever it is that we're supposed to meet is in the throne room, " Roland commented. "We should probably head out that way; it's rude to keep our host waiting."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Then let's be off." He begins walking toward the throne room.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Ah, well, can't have that. Let's be on about it, then."

Dyson strolls on in, reclaiming his cartridge rifle from Dirk and breaking it down as he goes, before returning it to the saddlebag that he'd put over his shoulder before they started their broken pattern walk.

[Daimbert]

As the three of you walk into the entrance hall, you see an excessively large number of statues in the hall, and you get the sense, somehow, that they're all watching you. As you head up the short flight of curved stairs to the throne room, you notice two huge hulking guard statues standing to each side of the large, ornate double doors. As you start towards them, the doors open, and you enter the throne room.

The statue motif carries on into the throne room, but aside from that the room is fairly sparse, save for a surprisingly moderate and functional throne and set of tables on the main dais, directly in front of you. In that throne sits a man. He is tall and well-built, with thinning blond hair and a trim mustache. He is dressed in old Amber-style clothes of emerald green. His dark green eyes are penetrating, and he looks at you as if he was judging your fitness. As you enter, he smiles pleasantly and says in a strong, deep voice, "Welcome, nephews".

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson lifts his hat.

"Good day, Uncle. As you're probably aware, I'm Dyson, that's Dirk, and that chap over there is Roland. May I ask your name?"

[Daimbert]

"What, don't you recognize me?"The figure on the throne chuckled lightly, but you can hear a very slight tinge of bitterness underlying the mostly genuine laugh.

"No, " he continued, "I don't suppose you would. I'm your dear long absent uncle Osric."

[Wiz]

Dirk bows, "Uncle Osric - how good to see the reports of your death were exaggerated... is the same happy news true of your brother Finndo?"

[Daimbert]

Dirk bows, "Uncle Osric - how good to see the reports of your death were exaggerated... is the same happy news true of your brother Finndo?"

"Some things you shall have to find out for yourself, nephew. Of course, even if I had said that he was alive or that he was dead, even fledgling Amberites like yourselves should know better than to simply take me at my word ..."

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles, "Ah, tis' true, uncle. But a vetran Amberite like yourself shouldn't assume that I would necessarily believe whatever you said. Then again, should your words later prove true or false I'd have learned something about you."

[Daimbert]

Dirk smiles, "Ah, tis' true, uncle. But a vetran Amberite like yourself shouldn't assume that I would necessarily believe whatever you said. Then again, should your words later prove true or false I'd have learned something about you."

Osric started at him for a short while, obviously debating whether to say anything else. Then he gave a shrug and said, "Well, discussions of the ins-and-outs of Amberite mechanisms are not really important. Are you not curious at all as to why I brought you here, and why I've revealed myself to you at this time? It is because there is a crisis brewing, one that threatens the very survival of Amber, and as you three are Amberites somewhat removed from the direct machinations you are excellent choices to seek out and defuse this situation."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson lets Dirk and Osric go for a while, then nods.

"At any rate, uncle, it is good to meet you. Please tell us about the current fuss. I, for one, am curious."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, thinking... I didn't ask because I knew you'd be getting around to telling us, Uncle.

[Daimbert]

"There is a force working in Shadow, but it is keeping itself well-hidden. Even with the resources at my disposal I have not been able to discover much about them, beyond that they are ill-disposed towards Amber.

"However, I have been able to determine that they are seeking the Amulet of the Unicorn, a powerful artifact of Amber. Why they desire this, and what purpose they have for this, I cannot say.

"The Amulet of the Unicorn is kept in the Lighthouse of the Unicorn, which some believe is a shadow of the Lighthouse of Cabra. None know where it is, aside from perhaps Oberon and Dworkin, neither of which are available at the moment.

"What I need you to do is to investigate these forces by trying to find the Lighthouse and protect the Amulet. After all, the best way to find someone is to go to where you know they want to get.

"I presume that you will have questions, so now would be an excellent time to ask them."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Interesting." Says Dyson. "I see no problem with investigating this matter... After a few questions get answered."

"I'll get straight to asking, then. Among other circumstances I'd apologize for being blunt, but... Amberites never apologize to one another, that's the unwritten rule, yes? Not one of my favorites, but oh well."

"First... What were you suspected of doing, that none of our relatives speak of you and your name has been stricken from the official family tree?"

"Second. Were those beastmen that assaulted us yours? If not, then what do you know of them?"

"Third. What do you know of Corwin's current situation and whereabouts?"

"Fourth. How much trouble is it going to cause you if we ask of your name to our fathers, and other relations?"

"Fifth. Why was your statue haunting Florimel's house?"

"Sixth. Is aunt Florimel all right? The house seemed rather deserted."

"Seventh. What do you know of Oberon's current situation and whereabouts?"

"Eighth. How did you learn of the amulet of the Unicorn?"

"Ninth. What does this amulet do?"

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles, "That sounds like a good start."

[Daimbert]

Osric smiled. "An impressively large set of questions. Let me take them in order:

"First, who says that I was suspected of anything, or even that my name has been stricken from the family rolls? I've been gone for quite a while, and am believed dead. That's really all you or anyone needs to know.

"Second, I arranged for no beastmen, and have no need to use such crude minions, as you have seen. Can you describe them for me?

"Third, you will find out about Corwin's status and fate when the time is right. Suffice it to say that he's no longer ... hidden.". You note Osric's emphasis on "hidden" as opposed to saying "hiding".

"It will cause me no trouble at all if you mention my name; none of them will believe you. It might cause you some problems, however, and I don't just mean from myself. I would not take kindly to you spreading my name around -- as my work is best served when things are quiet concerning me -- but others may also have an interest in keeping those who start such rumours quiet. After all, one of the rumours WAS that I was plotting to take the throne; starting such rumours in such an ... unsettled time might well cast suspicion on those starting them.

"My statue was at dear Flora's house looking and waiting for you. And I expect that Flora is safely back in Amber by now.

"I'm afraid that I don't know anything substantive about Oberon's whereabouts.

"As for the Amulet of the Unicorn, since I was around far longer than most others I was around when it had more prominence than its current level of utter obscurity. Unfortunately, I don't know all that much about what it actually does.

"Any more questions?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"Nicely answered, thank you. Oh, and those beastmen were..." A quick description follows.

Dyson also describes the shadow shunt that brought them together. "If it wasn't your doing, then it was probably set there to discourage anyone searching for Corwin. Would be my guess, at any rate."

He turns over the rest of Osric's answers in his head, considering them several times over in the course of seconds. Hm, he's got the right of it, I think. Spreading the news of his survival and activity has a chance of backfiring on the one speaking of it. Quiet research later, that's going to be the safer path.

And at this stage, might as well tread the safer path until reason to depart comes up.

He nods.

"All right. Well, sounds like we've got an amulet to investigate. Don't suppose you've got a trump, or other means of contacting you should we find out more about these troublesome hidden foes?"

Now THIS is the test. Dyson keeps his face neutral and pleasant. His father trained him well for moments like these. It shames him a little that he still has to think about it, even. But in time, he knows, that will pass and it'll be instinct.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "About the answers I was expecting. All right, I suppose it can't hurt to be investingating this matter."

[Daimbert]

Osric pondered for a second after hearing the description of the beastmen. "Hmmmm. They seem vaguely familiar, but I can't place them at the moment. They're certainly not from around here, and I doubt that they are related to Corwin at all. It seems more likely that you got caught up in Roland's adventure; that's precisely the sort of trouble that Random would walk into."

Roland tensed slightly at the last part, but said nothing.

Osric responded to Dyson's question about the Trump with "Don't worry about contacting me; I'll be able to keep track of you, at least in general, as things go along. For obvious reasons, the less hints about me out there, the better."

[Daimbert]

So, what's next, guys? Any more questions?

[Lost Demiurge]

"Thank you, Uncle. I believe we'll be on our way, then." Says Dyson, as he turns and starts to leave.

[Daimbert]

Osric quirked an eyebrow. "As a true Amberite, I would be remiss in not offering to put you up for the night and a nice meal, especially considering your recent travails, but if you want to get moving right away, I certainly understand.".

OOC - Do you guys have a plan for where you'll be going?

[Daimbert]

OOC - Okay, now that we've hit the plot hook, I'm in the very loosely planned phase of the game. So, how would you guys like the game to proceed? My intention was to be more investigation/political based, and limited combat. Is that what you want? Or do you want more combat? Anything you really want to see happen?

[Lost Demiurge]

Osric quirked an eyebrow. "As a true Amberite, I would be remiss in not offering to put you up for the night and a nice meal, especially considering your recent travails, but if you want to get moving right away, I certainly understand.".

OOC - Do you guys have a plan for where you'll be going?

"Ah, well, in that case..." Dyson grins, and takes his hat off. "Won't deny it's been a long ride. And I've got an uncle I knew nothing about until a few minutes ago. Come, let's sit, eat and chat. I've got a bottle of fine Ys brandy that I can contribute to the occasion, and some cigars that are begging for a match..."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods politely, "Your offer is most generous." He smiles, "I usually enjoy dining with my elders - they've had time to develop truly impressive palates, and food preparation skills or servants to match."

[Daimbert]

Dirk nods politely, "Your offer is most generous." He smiles, "I usually enjoy dining with my elders - they've had time to develop truly impressive palates, and food preparation skills or servants to match."

"I'm afraid that my palate seems to have shifted towards the ascetic side as I've aged, but never fear: I have not forgotten how to be a proper host. And, as such, it would be ungentlemanly of me to accept your generous offer of the brandy and cigars; I will have to see what I can provide that can match it."Osric replied.

At that, he snapped his fingers, and two of the nearby statues -- that resembled butlers -- suddenly burst into action, moving to stand by you.

"They will show you to your rooms so that you can refresh yourselves for dinner. It will be ready in about an hour."

After any parting words, the "butlers" showed you to rather ornate rooms in the adjacent wing of the castle, and gestured for you to enter. Inside, you all find well-appointed beds and various articles for freshening up, including complete changes of clothing in an archaic style.

After an hour, the butlers returned, and escorted you to the main dining room. Inside, you find an exceptionally well-appointed table, filled with various dishes, some of which you recognize and some of which you don't. Included are a number of dishes that existed on Earth; it seems that Osric is very well-informed about that Shadow.

Osric sat at the head of the table. There was no one else in the room, except for some statue servants. He greeted you as you entered, "I hope this is satisfactory"

OOC - Feel free to fill in any details about anything that's happened here; I just didn't want to get bogged down in them and took the opportunity to get things get it all out so that you wouldn't have to wait on me as much.

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles and sits down, taking a good portion of a number of the dishes. "So... I was wondering. Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about the current situation. You know... your exile from Amber. Your time here. The circumstances that led to it." He smiles, taking a bite, "You know, the kind of friendly, cameraderie-building stuff that makes us feel like we want to help you, and not just errand boys at best or dupes at worst."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson's chewing a few bites when Dirk speaks, he has to fight to keep from choking.

Finally, he thumps his chest, leans back, and laughs. "You don't mince words, do you, Dirk?"

He leans forward, and steeples his fingers. "But seriously Uncle, I am wondering about the statues, if it's not too much of a question to ask. Not much for more traditional, living servants?"

[Daimbert]

Dyson's chewing a few bites when Dirk speaks, he has to fight to keep from choking.

Finally, he thumps his chest, leans back, and laughs. "You don't mince words, do you, Dirk?"

He leans forward, and steeples his fingers. "But seriously Uncle, I am wondering about the statues, if it's not too much of a question to ask. Not much for more traditional, living servants?"

Osric answered Dyson first, "The statues are capable of doing most of what 'traditional' servants would do, and are, of course, a much stronger defense force -- even as a servant -- than regular servants would be. And, besides that, you'd be amazed at how good they are at keeping secrets."

As he said the last, he looked pointedly at Dirk.

"Do not consider yourselves mere errand boys. This is a matter of great importance to the realm of Amber, which unless I miss my guess is indeed something that you care about. If you are willing to seek this out and work for the good of Amber, your assistance is appreciated. If you are not, then other methods will be taken, and you will be free to pursue whatever suits your fancy." Osric continued.

[Daimbert]

Ping ... ping ...

[Wiz]

Dirk chuckles, "That was about as informative as I expected... with all due respect, Uncle." He takes another bite of his food and seems to be pondering something. "So... why was it necessary that we come via the broken pattern ways? It's obvious that standard shadow walking wasn't capable of getting us here, and there are very few instances that I know of where Broken Pattern works where Pattern does not. In all ways, pattern attunement is considered superior - only more difficult to master."

[Daimbert]

Dirk chuckles, "That was about as informative as I expected... with all due respect, Uncle." He takes another bite of his food and seems to be pondering something. "So... why was it necessary that we come via the broken pattern ways? It's obvious that standard shadow walking wasn't capable of getting us here, and there are very few instances that I know of where Broken Pattern works where Pattern does not. In all ways, pattern attunement is considered superior - only more difficult to master."

"Possibility is not the issue, but secrecy is. The regular Pattern required you to know the way here, which I don't want you to know. The Broken Pattern way ... didn't." Osric replied.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "So... this is to be done without trust. How familial."

[Daimbert]

Dirk nods, "So... this is to be done without trust. How familial."

Osric smiled, "One cannot completely escape one's upbringing, but there is more to it than that. I have, as you know, not made any contact with Amber in quite some time. Most people there think me dead, if not all of them. And I quite like it that way. My bringing you here and revealing myself to you was more information than I'd have liked to have given out, but I thought it necessary to stress the importance of the task. But if I give out this location, then that's another piece of the puzzle that is out there and that someone could ... extract from you. And that would severely limit my ability to continue to do my work to protect Amber. So, I don't wish to take that chance."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Mm." Dyson muses, his mouth full of filet. He chews and swallows before continuing. "Your logic is sound, Uncle. You're taking a risk with us, but doing all you can to minimize it. Until I find evidence otherwise I accept your information as true and thank you for it."

He finishes his meal and stretches. "Brandy and cigars, then?"

[Daimbert]

"Let's move to the den, where we can continue this discussion if need be. But, as I said, your contributions will not be required; I can provide whatever you might want, from various sorts of brandies and wines down to Bayle's Piss, if you're feeling lowbrow this evening." Osric said, standing.

He led you all into a well-appointed den, with comfortable chairs in front of a roaring fireplace, which was the only light in the room. A statue servant followed, and hovered, waiting for orders.

"So, gentlemen, what'll it be?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"Turkish Delight, I think." Says Dyson. He waves a hand in negation immediately. "Joking, joking. Old reference to a good book."

"A glass of Arbor Adam and a cigar will do me well. I'll gamble that you know your tobacco."

As he puffs, and sips the resulting drink, he keeps up a bit of small talk. Finally, leaning forward, he asks another question.

"Eric, Corwin, Caine, Gerard, Bleys, Benedict, Random, Julian, Brand. These are the nine princes of Amber, the sons of Oberon, that I know."

"Fiona, Florimel, Llewella, Deirdre. These are the princesses of Amber, the daughters of Oberon, that I know as well."

"How many else are there, that you know, Uncle? And will you speak of them to me?"

[Wiz]

Dirk follows queitly to the den, "A Havanna and whatever Brandy you recommend to go with it." He listens curiously to see if the other question will be answered.

[Daimbert]

Osric paused until they were served to answer. They noted that he didn't take any tobacco, and had only a simple cup of what looked like hot chocolate. "For other princes and princesses of Amber sired by Oberon, as far as I know there is only myself and Finndo. As for what I can tell you about those charmingly roguish figures, I'm afraid it isn't all that much. If Finndo is still alive, he seems to be keeping that as much a secret as I am.

"I don't know of any other siblings, but Oberon is the source of the rather lusty nature of most of the family, and so there being other siblings is not, in fact, out of the question. I have not met any, as far as I can recall.

"As for the next generation, the sons and daughters of the sons and daughters of Oberon, I doubt I know more than you do. There are likely to be a number of them that we are not yet aware of, and a number of them yet to come.

"Does this answer your question?"

[Wiz]

Dirk frowns, "One last thing, I suppose... you say you don't know much about the Talisman of the Unicorn - what it's purpose might be or what abilities it might have; but are there any familial restrictions regarding it... say for example Oberon forbidding anyone to seek or touch it... prophetic warnings of danger if it should be moved... that sort of thing."

[Daimbert]

Osric shrugged. "Not to my knowledge. In fact, I was given to understand that it had to be hidden and guarded precisely because it was so open, in that anyone who got their hands on it could use it. Again, I'm not sure for what, but you don't guard something that can be used to do something as trivial as, say, leave your room with a lemon-fresh scent."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods. "Thank you. I was mainly concerned with the first generation of Oberon, with that question. At this juncture, trying to track down all the children of THAT generation seems like a major effort at best. The way things have developed, there's no particular reason to advertise when a child is born."

After finishing his cigar, he stubs it out.

"Just once I'd like to see an artifact that leaves a lemon-fresh scent after activation." He grins. "Well, smell it, rather than see it, but you get the picture."

He stands and stretches. "Think I'm ready to get some sleep. In which direction might my quarters lie?"

[Daimbert]

OOC - Okay, now you're making me want to put some artifact in the game that has at least as a side-effect giving off a lemon-fresh scent [grin].

"Of course, " Osric replied, directing the statue butlers to return the three of you to your quarters.

In the morning, the servants again escorted you to a small, light breakfast, and then finally to the throne room once more.

"Well, " Osric says, "It seems that it is time for you to go. Do you have any last questions or anything else you'd require before leaving?"

[Daimbert]

Roland, who had been oddly quiet throughout most of the meetings, finally spoke up, "Yeah, just one question. Shadow, as you know, is pretty big. You're having us look for a specific Shadow that might or might not be a Shadow of the Lighthouse of Cabra. Since the amulet's being hidden, I'm going to guess that there are ways in place to limit access to that Shadow so that people like us don't just stumble onto it. So, I'd guess that it's only accessible from a couple of Shadows through some means, and directly probably not at all, or at least not without difficulty. So, any hints as to where we should start looking?"

Osric looked at him appraisingly. "I was wondering when one of you would ask that. I'm somewhat surprised it was you. At any rate, yes, your suppositions are correct. Even I don't know where the access points are -- or else I'd just go there -- but there have been some long running rumours associated with the Shadow of Shannon, which is mostly an uninteresting Shadow except that occasionally some of its denizens are tapped for mercenary duty by those who can walk Shadow. Which is, in and of itself, interesting since there isn't anything special about it. That would be the place to start."

Roland nodded. "Any idea how we can get there?"

Osric grinned. "As a matter of fact ..."

He then gestured at the wall, and a steel plate slide open, revealing a stone carving that looked remarkably like a Trump. It depicted a small, medieval city street. "Corran, the capital of Shannon" Osric commented.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Then consider us on our way. It was good to meet you, Uncle."

[Daimbert]

The three of you entered the Trump, and soon find yourself on the streets of Corran. Other than the fact that you might be dressed a bit fancier than the shabby, dull clothes of most of the passersby, you all fit in quite well here. Many of the passersby -- male and female -- are visibly armed. There seems be a slightly higher percentage of redheads and blondes than might have beem expected, but it seems a reasonable mix. And you notice that the inhabitants are decidedly human in appearance, meaning that you don't even have any features that would stand out.

Soon after arriving, Roland stiffened. It became clear that he was in a Trump contact.

"Dad? It's good to hear ... un-huh ... what?!? ... yeah. Give me a minute."

At that, he turned angry eyes to the other two members. "That was my Dad. He's in Rebma, after returning with Corwin. Corwin who was on Earth. You know, where Flora was? And we all ended up? Flora, Eric's lapdog? Keeping an eye on him so he didn't interfere with Eric's plans, obviously. And Caine's taken up Eric's side, too. So it looks like there'll be war.

"I don't know what your game is, but I do know that I don't want to play it, and I know DAMN well that I'm not on your side. The fact that it was Dirk who led us to 'Osric' just makes everything all that much more suspicious. Have fun with your games, and I'll see you in Hell."

At that, he grasped a hand, and disappeared through the Trump.

[Wiz]

Dirk remains passive throughout the tirade. "Well... I'm amazed that he was able to figure out so much from so little evidence. A legend in his own mind!" He looks at Dyson, "Would you also care to bail on the multiverse because of some idle speculations?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson is too busy laughing uproariously to reply for a minute.

"Gods DAMN!" he finally forces out between chuckles. "Look, see, there's the perils of this family. After enough time being the top dog of any shadow you care to roam in, and dealing with relatives who are so twisty that they'd fall down street grates if they stepped wrong, you start thinking it's all about YOU."

"Paranoia, solipsism, phobias of duplicity... Ah, Signy Fraid would've had a field day with him. No, no, I'm sticking with you. If somehow you're leading me down the magical pony path of scapegoating, treachery, and ruin, it's at the very least entertaining and my compliments for a fun trip."

"Mf. Ha. Pfft... I needed that. Come on, let's go be catspaws for a while longer. Meow."

He tilts his head and considers as he goes, letting the light play across his glasses. "Besides, if bright-boy was telling the truth, it looks like our dads are on the same side, at least in public. Might not be bad to stick together in case someone gets the bright idea for a hostage-grabbing swipe, or something equally stupid."

And Dyson straightens his clothes, and starts down the street, idly looking around to take in the sights of the shadow.

[Daimbert]

There are little sights to see, as the city is quite non-descript. Almost TOO non-descript; it seems so prototypical an example of the medieval town or city that in general no one could ever have expected such a town to actually exist. The people look precisely like everyday, average people going out their business. And the businesses are generally those you'd expect to see in a medieval-style city. There's a couple of taverns, an inn, and some general supply shops and stores. Only one building stands out: a building openly advertising itself as the Mercenary Guild. Apparently, the mercenary business is thriving enough for it to be in plain sight on the main thoroughfare, leading to a bit of an incongruence as you note that it stands right next door to what appears to be a simple tailor's shop. Perhaps the mercenaries are concerned about their appearance.

[Wiz]

Dirk is observing as they walk. "Well, if this shadow was shaped by mind rather than the currents of reality, I have to congratulate the artist for his singular lack of inspiration." He points to the mercenary guild and the tailor's door. "I think we're supposed to go in one of these... my own preferance would be more sartorial." He smiles, "But in deference to you allowing me to lead you into a possible trap, I'll return the favor and let you choose the Lady or the Tiger."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Eh, might as well hit the tailor's shop first. If nothing else, we can likely abscond with a few uniforms and infiltrate the other at our leisure."

Dyson heads that way, snorting at the designs in the window. "Oh, how bland. Not like this shadow's shown anything different so far..."

[Daimbert]

As the two of you head over that way, you notice that the tailor shop is pretty much like everything else in the city: non-descript and ordinary. The designs in the window match that: while reasonably well-tailored, they aren't particularly original. You don't see any customers in the shop.

Entering the shop, you are greeted by a tall, dark-haired man who is standing by the counter. He is thin but still a bit muscular. "Greetings, gentlemen, " he says amiably. "And what can I do for you on this fine morning?".

[Lost Demiurge]

"A coat, my good man. I need a spare jacket. Maybe similar to the cut of those mercenaries next door, they look rather sharp. Do you do much business with them? Know how to get those sleeves to fold the way they do?" Says Dyson.

[Daimbert]

"A coat, my good man. I need a spare jacket. Maybe similar to the cut of those mercenaries next door, they look rather sharp. Do you do much business with them? Know how to get those sleeves to fold the way they do?" Says Dyson.

The tailor replies, still amiable, but a bit puzzled, "Well, if you're looking for a jacket you've certainly come to the right place, but I'm not sure what you mean by 'similar to the cut of those mercenaries next door'. While they DO tend to dress up quite nattily for the various social gatherings we have, there's no particular style to their general attire. After all, being mercenaries, uniforms aren't really required, and in a city of this size there's really no need for them to require uniforms or badges to identify their members.

"Aside from that, though, perhaps I can show you something suitable to your own personal style. Forest Green seems to be the dominant colour this season, but we are cosmopolitan enough to accomodate almost anything. Except white after Labourer Day, of course, but you don't have worry about that."

[Daimbert]

Ping ... ping. Just in case you've missed my post ...

[Wiz]

Dirk looks around the shop, noting the weave of the fabrics, dyes used, and general style is entirely inferior to anything found in Argent. He doesn't do much to hide his distain, "Are you sure you want to shop in this place, cousin?"

[Daimbert]

Dirk looks around the shop, noting the weave of the fabrics, dyes used, and general style is entirely inferior to anything found in Argent. He doesn't do much to hide his distain, "Are you sure you want to shop in this place, cousin?"

The tailor replied, slightly miffed but still amiable, "Well, of course I am but a simple tailor and perhaps not generally accustomed to providing for gentlemen of your obvious stature, but I can assure you that I take great pride in my workmanship, and that it is unlikely that you will find anything better in this entire city. And when one is visiting from abroad, it never hurts to buy local, no matter how quaint the local wares seem to be. In fact, it has been my experience that some find the more common touch to be an excellent conversation starter amongst the more ... fashion oriented, shall we say?."

[Daimbert]

Bumpety-bump-bump

[Lost Demiurge]

(I'm sorry. I missed seeing the last few updates, and now I'm completely at a loss as to what to do or say here. I simply don't know how to proceed.

Maybe it's because we've only got two players. I'm not used to games with this dynamic.)

[Daimbert]

(I'm sorry. I missed seeing the last few updates, and now I'm completely at a loss as to what to do or say here. I simply don't know how to proceed.

Maybe it's because we've only got two players. I'm not used to games with this dynamic.)

That might be part of it, and also my being a rookie GM might help as well (I'm never sure if you want me to move things along quickly or slowly, more combat or more conversational (which fits into the setting better) or whatever).

So, I'm willing to help here, so what would you like:

1) GM-PCs (nobody likes those, but it might solve the 2-player part since they could fill things in when people are at a loss)?

2) Hints? I can give hints, but most players don't like them.

3) Something else?

I can say that you are, in fact, definitely in the right dimension, and I will also say that where we are now isn't all that well-planned out (unlike the first part) so I'd suggest doing stuff that seems reasonable and I'll adjust things as they go along. I'm actually looking forward to improvising some of this stuff, so giving me things -- within reason -- to improvise with should eventually lead you places.

[Lost Demiurge]

(Not big on GM PC's. Hints? Eh... Well, let me see what I can try... I'm playing this Corwin style, so if I get too frustrated with subtle machinations I'll just go start a fight and see what shakes up.)

"Shush cousin, I know your tastes are quite refined, but remember your purse. This man's work is reasonable enough, and he comes recommended as quite affordable."

Dyson turns back to the tailor.

"So they don't have a uniform, or a common identifier? Ah, a pity. I was contemplating joining up, and wanted to look the part. Well, why don't I look through your stock, and see if anything appeals."

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs and smiles, "As you wish, cousin." He goes to the window and looks out - taking stock of the passerbys.

[Daimbert]

The tailor replied, "Oh, I'm a firm believer that a good craftsman can always make something affordable that is of good quality, and if a tailor can't make a passably stylish garment on a budget then the problem is with the tailor. So, please do glance around the shop, but don't feel limited by it; I stand by my reputation as a maker of custom garments.

"However, did I hear you right in that you were looking to try to match the style of the mercenaries as a prelude to joining them? I'm curious: you didn't think that that sort of presumption might be met with ... hostility, to say the least?

"At any rate, while you're browsing it might do us both a service if you could outline what has brought you here to at least potentially join up with our local band of mercenaries. As you might imagine, I do interact with a large number of people and might be able to steer you into some interesting directions to achieve your ultimate goal -- even if that doesn't necessarily include being a mercenary for life -- and since I'm certain that you have a sad and depressing story to tell it would be a welcome change from the giddy gossip that I normally encounter."

Note that the shop is filled with garments of all colours, although as promised Forest Green dominates. The style is clean and unremarkable; it's not weird or out-of-place but there aren't any major signs of creativity either.

[Daimbert]

From the window, Dirk can see the entrance to the mercenary's guild, and the tailor seems to be correct; the people exiting the building don't seem have all that much in common in terms of dress, other than having a tendency towards Forest Green, which all of the other passersby also share.

A number of people -- including those from the mercenary guild -- enter one of the taverns on the street.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Ah, well my friend, it IS a sad story. But I feel I can trust you."

Caine's words come back to him. 9/10's of a good falsehood is measured doses of truth...

Dyson sits, pulls out a hip flask, and considers a cloak of forest green. "Long ago, our family was charged with keeping a certain item safe from foes unmentionable. But it was no easy task... We were betrayed within and without, and scattered to the winds. It is only through the grace of my father's father that my branch survived at all. In this chaos, the item was lost."

"We managed to hide and survive, but our honor had been taken from us. This broke the spirit of my forbears, and relentlessly we searched for it, and we search for it, as do the others of my family. But we do not know where our enemies may be, or what resources they have to bring to bear upon the situation."

"In our travels and investigations, I have found a possibility beyond imagination... I have learned that it is possible that ours is NOT the only branch of the family that survived. I have learned that it is possible that the long-lost branch RETAINED the item in question. That it was never lost to the enemy at all!"

"For the first time since I was born, I have hope! If this is so, then we did our job, and our honor was never broken!"
He takes a long pull, then looks the tailor straight in the eye. His glasses flash with reflected light as he does so.

"You ask me if I am being presumptious in acquiring clothes to match these mercenaries before joinging them? My friend, it is hope that lifts my heart, not presumption. This hope will not be denied. The path of investigation before me leads me into this mercenary band, and thus so I must go. If I can not find my relative there, all is lost, and I am honorless. But if I only can..."
He leans back.

"Failure is not an option, here. And so while I draw breath, I will not be stopped... This hope within me will not let me do less. I trust you understand?"

He offers the hip flask.

"Can you assist us in any way? If not, I'll simply bid you fare well, purchase this fetching cloak and move on."

[Daimbert]

The tailor waves away the flask. "I never drink while working. Some of my customers really do enjoy haggling to the extent that if I didn't keep my wits about me they'd rob me blind, and needlework requires me to be at the top end of my hand-eye co-ordination. Pricking your fingers with a needle is really quite painful, you know.

"But your story is indeed as filled with equal parts woe, hope and interest as I could have hoped for. I'm not sure what kind of item you are looking for, and so all I can tell you is that I have never heard of any sort of specific item being associated with that band, and if your relative was either the leader or the founder of that organization that role has changed quite frequently, and so it is unlikely that they are still in charge, or even around.

"However, if I may give you a piece of advice? I know that I am only a simple tailor, but it seems to me that trying to join or fit in with these mercenaries is a rather inefficient way of getting what you want, which seems to be information. Perhaps more ... normal methods of information gathering would suffice? We have a number of rather good taverns, and between you and me it seems that one can gather information there almost as well as one can by being a simple tailor.

"At any rate, that is my advice to you. And if you do take it perhaps I'll see you there again, since after my work is done I do find a stiff drink and some general conversation most ... refreshing."

[Wiz]

Dirk turns and smiles, "Indeed, it seems that the tavern across the street does have a lot of the mercenaries going into it. Perhaps we should thither there, Cos, and hear what can be heard."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods.

"Very well. For now I'll take your advice, friend. Besides, my throat is a touch parched anyway. You have the right of it cousin, let's away."

And he follows Dirk out.

[Wiz]

Dirk walks toward the inn. "If you target someone and consider that they might be hiding something, signal me, I'll see if I can read their mind."

[Daimbert]

You enter the inn, and find that it -- surprisingly -- looks like a completely ordinary inn, that's neither especially creative or drab. The innkeeper waves you disinterestedly into the taproom, which is fairly large and oddly full for the time of day. It is about half-full, with a good mix of common people and those that Dirk had seen leave the mercenary hall. There's a fairly raucous game of dice going on at one table, and a number of people at the front of the room loudly cheering a playing minstrel. In a dark corner a group of people sit, some of whom Dirk had seen leave the mercenary hall. They're playing cards and watching the room closely.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods to Dirk, and says quietly:

"I'll join the dice game. You kick back and relax, listen for a while. I'd wait before approaching those guys in the corner, but not TOO long."

Dyson buys a drink, and uses the change to buy into the dice game. Before long he's laughing and making sure to lose as much as he wins and break even whenever possible.

[Wiz]

Dirk settles down at the bar, ordering a drink.

Rather than listening in on anyone in particular though, he will download a stealth mindreading spell that draws on broken-pattern power. The spell will extend one of his psyche tendrils and establish a mind link to the one he is interested in so he can snoop their thoughts. Only an exceptionally aware mind or a trained mage should be able to detect the spell in operation. He'll randomly spot minds until he finds something interesting to focus on - and will concentrate on the dark corner if nothing else seems promising in the inn.

[Daimbert]

The dice game is made up of a few mercenaries and some of the common folk. There's not a lot of conversation going on, although its fairly raucous. Clearly, these people are just out to have a good time.

As Dirk uses his spell to scan the minds in the room, he is slightly surprised when he turns his attention to the people playing cards in the dark corner. He picks up surprisingly little from them, although it's clear that they aren't blocking the spell in any way; they just have fairly disciplined minds so that their thoughts don't wander much. But he does pick up some interesting snippets:

"... not sure about the strangers ..."

"The dice player's clearly not trying to win too much ..."

"They're working the room ... wonder what they want ..."

[Lost Demiurge]

After a while of carefully balancing wins and losses and making sure to conceal that he's doing so, Dyson decides screw it, no one's dropping anything interesting, and starts playing with full skill.

This is probably going to take patience. Well, good thing my schedule's clear.

[Wiz]

Dirk will focus on the disciplined ones as it is rather unusual, especially since they lack mage training. A group with elite training seems more likely to be from an organization that would be recruited to guard something powerful. He sees what other snippets he can garner before perhaps approaching the group. To all eyes, he's merely focusing on his drink and/or relaxing.

[Daimbert]

As Dyson starts to play with his full skill, he realizes something that he was unconsciously aware of but hadn't really fully appreciated: most of the players aren't all that good. They'd be skilled amateurs at best. As such, he starts winning quite a bit, and the mood at the table decreases as the others start to lose, although the people betting on him remain happy.

After a bit of this, Dirk catches a fleeting thought from the corner table:

I knew it.

as a small, shifty looking man catches a larger man's eye and nods his head towards Dyson. The larger man watches for an instant, and then nods at the smaller man, who -- taking some money with him -- then leaves the table to approach where Dyson is playing.

"It seems that our locals are poor sport for one of your talents," he comments. "Would you care to try against me?"

OOC - Lost Demiurge, I hope this answers your concerns a little. It's also at this point that you've kinda lost me since I really don't know much ABOUT playing dice, so my play-by-play at any stage will be by nature brief [grin]. Suffice it to say -- if you or anyone wants to help me out and walk through the game -- that this guy is very, very good. He's not quite as good as Dyson, but he's good enough to give him a very good run. In the long run, when the dice odds even out, Dyson will always come out on top, but he's good enough that with some luck he could beat Dyson in the short term.

If anyone has any concerns or wants to change things, let me know. I'm still learning this stuff so if I take too many liberties just yank me back a little.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson shrugs. "Luck's just with me, friend. But you're welcome to try to take my money. Let's see who lady luck's sleeping with tonight..."

After a few minutes in, Dyson eyes his shrinking pile of money. This guy's good. Doesn't look like he's cheating, either. "That floozy, luck! Hide your purse friend, or it'll be gone in the morning. She's just no lady, when you get down to it..."

Dyson picks up the pace, checking the probabilities of each roll in eyeblinks of time, betting accordingly, and working a long-term strategy of feints against his opponent. The pile of money stops shrinking, holds steady, and gains some.

Finally, after a tense hold-out on a tripled pot, Dyson squeaks out a win and regains two-thirds of the money he previously won. He eyes his opponent's pile, looks at his own, and turns the dice cup over. "I think I'm willing to call it a night." He grins, waves a hand at the barkeep. "Round on the house, on me!"
He offers a handshake to his foe. "Name's Dyson. What's yours?"

[Wiz]

Dirk will feign a complete lack of the interest he feels in this man. The fact that he is holding his own against an Amberite who can affect probability if he wishes means that he is very... very... good. Better than most shadows should be able to produce. He scans the man's thoughts very carefully, and throws in a passive scanning spell to detect any energies of magic, pattern, logrus or trump (if you hold that ridiculous idea prompted by the game books that trump is a completely separate power). The flux-pin link he holds to his construct means that it is virtually impossible to detect or trace, but on the off chance that someone might be using this drawn-out event to try and trace the source of Dirk's magic, he increases his passive scanning to include any attempts to read him.

[Daimbert]

While all the on-lookers have been engrossed in and cheerfully celebrating the game and its final outcome, the small man remained calm and composed throughout the game. At the end, he takes Dyson's hand and replies, "Jack. Good game, Dyson. What brings you here?"

Dirk doesn't sense anything out of sorts about Jack, and his thoughts are simply on the best moves of ways to play the game, and are remarkably focused on the game and its details, with little else distracting him. Clearly, he's a very good and very professional player.

No one is applying any magic or spells to investigate either Dirk or Dyson.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Good game!" Dyson says right back, returning the handshake using nowhere near his full strength. "Ah, me and my cousin are passing through. Trying to locate a distant relative who moves around a lot. So a few nights checking around here to see if anyone's seen him, then probably on to the next town. You mentioned something about locals, earlier... I'd guess you're a traveller too?"

[Daimbert]

"No, I'm a local. It just seemed that your current crop of opponents weren't used to someone of your calibre. It was nice to see that I could at least in some small way measure up.

As for your potential relative, this is the right area to look for strangers, but I can't say that I've seen any recently."

[Wiz]

Dirk picks up his drink and walks over, "What's up, Coz... any word?" He nods to the fellow, "Dirk's the name."

[Daimbert]

Jack takes the hand with a manner that shows that he's not at all surprised that Dirk has joined them, and says "Jack."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Eh, none yet." Says Dyson, making a sour face. "But Jack here says this area's a good place to look for strangers, so it's possible he might come through. So it might be good to stick around for a little bit. In any case..." He jingles the coins and drops his voice, so that only Jack and Dirk can hear. "We've got enough cash to cover a few nights, now without too much trouble."

[Wiz]

ooc - I offered a hand?

Dirk nods, "Whatever you wish. I just hope we have some luck in our search."

[Daimbert]

ooc - I offered a hand?

OOC - Oops [grin]?

BTW, just as a reminder -- even though I think you know this -- you do remember that you aren't looking for Corwin anymore, right? I ask this because there's a lot of hints about a stranger and a relative in your questions ....

[Lost Demiurge]

OOC - Oops [grin]?

BTW, just as a reminder -- even though I think you know this -- you do remember that you aren't looking for Corwin anymore, right? I ask this because there's a lot of hints about a stranger and a relative in your questions ....

((OOC: I know. This is to accomplish a couple of things.

1. If a relative who knows of our quest hears of our running around in this shadow, he'll go "Oh, well, they're off on that Corwin hunt."
2. I have a sneaking suspicion about this shadow and the mercenary company, and I'm sending a subtle hint by spreading this around.
3. It's as good an excuse as any to poke around this shadow.))

[Lost Demiurge]

"Well, thanks for the game, Jack." Says Dyson, when no more conversation seems to be forthcoming from the stranger. "Think I'll go pay for our rooms, now." He gestures loosely at Dirk, then heads up to the innkeeper and does just that.

[Wiz]

Dirk reaches under his tunic and pulls out a sketch pad. For those keeping a really close eye, they may wonder how he hid it there so inobviously... he sits down and opens it, beginning to sketch. He's making no motion to hide what he's drawing, and if anyone looks they will see a unicorn, grazing in a meadow.

Trolling for people who might know about our one-horned friend.

[Daimbert]

OOC - Is Dyson coming back to the table to sit, too?

[Lost Demiurge]

OOC - Er, yes.

[Daimbert]

Jack nodded at you both, and then returned to his table, and whispered something to the leader, who looked curious but not particularly concerned. As the two of you sat at the table, suddenly you hear a familiar voice from behind you -- that of the tailor from the local shop.

"Good to see you again, gentlemen. I hope that you've found our local inn informative, or at the very least entertaining, " he said jovially.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson tilts his head around, glancing towards the tailor. "It's been quite pleasant, thank you for the recommendation."

[Daimbert]

"Excellent, excellent. May I join you, or are you perhaps 'casing the joint'?" he asked, ending the last comment with a wry chuckle.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Excellent, excellent. May I join you, or are you perhaps 'casing the joint'?" he asked, ending the last comment with a wry chuckle.

Dyson snorts.

"Not planning to rob this place anytime soon. My last attempt at dice was almost a disaster. Ended well, fortunately." He slides a chair over. "Waitress, drink for my friend."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods to the tailor, "So... I'm assuming business is a little slow today?"

[Daimbert]

OOC - Sorry about the delay. Also note that I screwed up in not really presenting what time it is, so that last question is a bit problematic, since I'm assuming you were playing for at least a couple of hours and that it wasn't first thing in the morning (so people were here). My mistake.

IC - "No more than usual, I'd say, " the tailor replied jovially. "I usually close up for a little bit at this time of day, and you'd be amazed how much work you can scrounge up just by being a little friendly.

"Ah, thank you, " he said to the waitress as she brought him the drink. "The only thing that can lift my spirits more than this drink is the sight of your lovely, smiling face."

He then noticed the drawing Dirk was making. "That's a very interesting drawing. It seems to me I've seen something like that before. Is that a famous image?"

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles, "You mean you've never seen a creature like this before?"

[Daimbert]

"Well, not in real life, since as far as I'm aware there's no such creature here, or anywhere I've seen. Also, I don't recall it being any sort of popular emblem or decoration around here; as a tailor, you DO get to know all the major and even the minor crests and badges. And yet it seems that I've seen or heard about something like that before. Is this something related to a family or organization or particular legend that I might have come across?"

[Wiz]

Dirk shrugs, "Well, it seems to be a mythical beast as far as my researches have indicated - though I have met one or two people who claim to have seen one. It's called a unicorn. I've never seen one used on a crest around here. though there was one family... what was their name? Barimen? Something like that... and one place I heard tell of... a city, I think. Now what was that name... Adamant... no, Amber!"

[Daimbert]

"Ah, now I recall ... and it might be related to your interest in the mercenary band as well. In the stories of the formation of the group, I do seem to recall some mention of such a symbol -- also called a unicorn -- and a vague mention of the one who set it up saying 'Amber' at some dramatic moment. Of course, he didn't stick around very long, disappearing most suspiciously. Could this have any bearing on your mission to find your long-lost relatives?"

[Daimbert]

Quick ping in case you missed the reply ...

[Lost Demiurge]

"Might very well be." Says Dyson. "Drama runs in the family. Don't suppose there's any good descriptions of this fellow?"

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Yes... I'm sure if people remember some of the things he said, they might remember what he looked like."

[Daimbert]

The tailor thought for a moment. "I don't recall such a description myself, but then again I'm no loremaster. However ... you know who you should ask? Becca Gorn. She runs one of the main supply shops here in town, and she's always had an obsession with the old legends. In fact, as I recall it was her who told the story to me in the first place. Yes, I think that she's your best bet. Tell her Hesel sent you, and she should be more than happy to tell you everything you'd like to know."

[Lost Demiurge]

"Very well! No time like the present." Says Dyson. After asking a few directions, he starts heading that way.

[Wiz]

Dirk stands and smiles, "Thank you for your help... I should go with my cousin..."

[Daimbert]

"Oh, I'm more than happy to help. And thank you again for the drink." Hesel replies amiably.

You quickly move through the streets, noting that it is now early evening and most of the business is slowing down, but thankfully the supply store is open. While it's fairly large, there are no other customers and there is only one person in the store. She is a pleasant-looking woman of about middle-age, with dark hair with just a hint of gray, and green eyes. Seeing you enter, she says, "What can I do for you fine gentlemen today?"

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles, "Hello, I hope you can help us. Are you, by any chance, Becca Gorn?"

[Daimbert]

"Why, yes, I am, the owner and proprietor of this fine establishment. What can I do for you?" she replied, clearly used to people walking into her shop and asking for her specifically.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "Actually, we're less interested in what your shop provides than what you might be able to relate with your knowledge of legends and mythology. You were recommended to us as someone who might know something about this creature and things related to it." He shows her his drawing of the unicorn.

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson glances around, letting Dirk take the lead. He checks the street, surrepetitiously.

[Daimbert]

Becca takes the picture and studies it for a minute. "Ah, a unicorn.", she says. "It's not a particularly featured image in our folklore, but it does appear in a few stories. Is there any particular link you were hoping to hear about?"

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "There was a story you'd related about the formation of a mercenary band - this symbol was involved, as well as a man who used the word "Amber" at some dramatic moment. If you could relate that tale, it might be useful in a quest my cousin and I are involved in."

[Daimbert]

OOC - Just as a heads-up, I have to go away and write out the legend, so you'll probably get it on the weekend.

[Daimbert]

OOC - I've been a little busier than expected, so it might take a little longer. By the end of this weekend for sure ...

[Wiz]

ooc - I'm out of town til Friday evening anyway. Take your time. :)

[Daimbert]

Becca thought for an instant. "Ah, that one. An important story, if one sadly neglected these days. It is the story of the formation of the mercenary band here in Corran, which has brought us more prosperity than we likely deserve, due to the influence of foreigners like yourselves.

"Now, let me see. It was a long, long time ago, longer than anyone here has been alive. This was a fairly poor village then, a basic trading centre for farmers and the like. And then a man arrived. He was tall, thin and dour, and dressed in orange and yellow and brown. He approached some of the toughest men around, and starting talking about their fighting abilities. They laughed at him, and called him "Scarecrow". "More like unicorn", he replied, and then proceeded to soundly thrash them all. Those men became loyal to him, and he left with them briefly. He returned with them, and gave them a fair amount of money, and suggested that there might more of that in it for them if they and some others were prepared to fight.

"Well, people would be skeptical about that, but after his display of fighting, the stories of the men, and the money, well, people started working on it. However, they still had some sense and didn't abandon the farming and trapping and other work that kept them alive. After a time, they grew to be reasonably skilled.

"And then he returned, with two other men. The first was a big man, with black hair and a black beard, dressed in green and gold, carrying a golden sword. The other was a hunchback, but there was something wise about him, just the same, and the other two both deferred to him. But otherwise, it was clear that the man in green and gold was in charge. They investigated for a time, and then bought an old farmstead outside of town. They went there, and a few days later the first man returned without the others. He oversaw the formation of a formal mercenary band and found and accompanied them on their first few adventures. And then he left.

"The band did well, and Corran prospered. While more and more people joined the group, there now was more demand for shops and merchants and all sorts of things, and so the entire area prospered. Years passed ...

"And then, suddenly, there was an invasion. Some of the enemies were human, but some seemed to be demons or devils. The mercenaries rallied the area and held them back for a time, but the invaders were determined and our forces were being pushed back. It seemed only a matter of time before we fell.

"And then, he returned. The man in brown and yellow and orange. He rode straight into a battle where we were hard-pressed to survive, and crying 'For Amber' started laying about him. None could stand against him on the field, and the men rallied behind them. The battle turned from what seemed like a crushing defeat into a rout of the enemy. A few short days later, it was all over; all the invaders were either dead or fled.

"But the man only stayed for a few days, and then left himself. And no one here has seen him since.

"Is that what you were looking for?" Becca asked.

As she did so, the door to the shop opened, and a stunningly beautiful woman entered. She had long dark hair, and dark, soulfull eyes. Her body was lean and athletic, and yet was clearly feminine. She was dressed in light leather armour in blue, and carried a sword and a parrying dagger. She politely bowed to Becca and said, "I apologize for interrupting you, but is my order prepared?"

Becca nodded. "You can start loading it, and then settle up with me once that's done."

"As you wish, " the new woman replied, moving towards the door.

Becca then turned back to the two of you, "Was that helpful? Anything else you'd like to know?"

[Daimbert]

Okay, my timing sucks based on past experience but ... ping.

[Lost Demiurge]

"Actually, that is. That's definitely bizarre enough to be the fellow we've been seeking. Though it sounds like he's moved on, we may be able to figure his footsteps from here. Thank you."

"By the way... Do the mercenaries still use the farmstead that he purchased, or are they strictly in town anymore?"

[Daimbert]

"No," Becca replied. "The mercenaries never went near that farmstead. No one really knows -- or at least, is saying -- why."

[Wiz]

Dirk smiles, "We were looking for someone related to that story, a missing relative... in all likelihood related to the man in brown, orange, and yellow. One of the clues we had to their location was a very old painting of a farmstead. But it made no sense because we had no context for it, and we had no idea where it was. Perhaps that is the very farm in question. Do you know where it is located?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson examines the newcomer without being obvious about it.

Hm. No coincidence, this. She's either going to report our words to one of the groups watching us, or follow us to the farmstead when we go.

And now we're getting into Benedict's business. Joy.

[Daimbert]

"No, no one remembers where it was, or even how far it was away. The legends all say that they took one over, but my opinion is that that was all from what the men told everyone; no one living at the time seems to have ever seen it"

At that, the woman from before returned. Becca turned her attention to her, and the woman moved aside her cloak to remove a small pouch full of coins, which she gave to the shopkeeper. Becca took it without counting them, and bid her farewell.

The cloak moves aside far enough for Dyson to notice that the woman is wearing a unicorn broach.

[Daimbert]

ping ... ping

[Lost Demiurge]

Dyson nods. "I think we're done here, then. Cousin, are you ready to go?"

On the way out the door, he pauses and glances at the woman in blue. "That's a very nice broach," he says, and moves on.

[Daimbert]

The woman merely glares at you and moves on past you. You get the distinct impression that you weren't meant to see that broach.

You notice her mount her horse and, leading a well-loaded pack horse, head out of town.

[Wiz]

Dirk nods to the shopmistress and as they leave whispers to Dyson, "Up for a little tracking? I'll be curious to see if there is any shifting."

[Daimbert]

Lost Demiurge, you're up ...

[Lost Demiurge]

"Sounds like a plan to me." Murmurs Dyson.

And pausing to grab his horse, he follows.

Along the way and once out of town he takes time to shift up a horse for Dirk. "Can't have you riding double everywhere, old lad..."

[Wiz]

Dirk nods, "It's appreciated. I could conjure one, but it could get difficult if we start shifting shadows."

[Daimbert]

I'll try to put something up over the weekend.

I'm presuming that you're just following the woman, now, and have nothing else to do before then, correct?