Jerod goes through the trump. The air is bitingly cold, and the scenery of the mountain clearing is breathtaking in its own way. Below lie miles of virgin evergreen forests, marching down the mountain and flanking what may well be waterways. There are a few places that might be roads, or might once have been, but there are few signs of habitation in the valleys below.
Here, though in a high mountain clearing, Jerod sees a collection of buildings nearly identical to those in the painting he'd entered. There are 5, and all have smoke rising from various chimneys.
The meadow is at the tree-line, and the mountain peak above is snow-covered. There is no one outside to greet or notice Jerod's arrival.
Vere nods and watches, alert for any signs of something going wrong.
Cordelia steps up to the painting, where he father was. "It was like he became two-dimensional, and all the color was squeezed out of him." She doesn't say this in a way that seems surprised or disturbed by the prospect. "So I just...". She stops, and laughs. It's a short sound, and disappears with her as she steps forward into an dazzling coruscating wave of color and light.
She appears aside Jerod, looking less pale than usual in the sunlight. "That was exhilarating!" she tells him. "I will definitely want to do that again."
Meanwhile in Paris, Vere sees nothing wrong.
Vere steps through immediately after Cordelia and immediately scans the area around them, looking for any sign that their arrival has been noted.
Jerod smiles at her comments, and the abbreviated laugh coming from her arrival. "There will be opportunities in the future. We have personal Trumps for Family that we can use to communicate with, or to travel to and from that person with their help."
Jerod has made note of her complexion and will be continuing to do so. Whether this might be due to an interaction with the Trumps, or perhaps a change to her personally since they are no longer in extreme proximity to a Pattern would be something to consider.
"Once we get some time we can see about having a Trump made of you, with your approval. I would like to have one available. I'll need to get one of me made for you as well. I think I know enough to try to make one." he says, taking the opportunity now to check the buildings in the distance.
He also takes a moment to sift the Shadow to get a feel for its composition as well as its time flow. He wants to know, in comparison to Paris, how much time the quarry has had available to continue running. Also things like whether magic is prevalent, the chaos of tech and such would be useful to know if it is readily apparent. He's not blatant about doing it by pulling up the Pattern directly...he's not sending up a flare for a local watcher, but he uses enough that Vere is likely to feel it for sure. And if someone is close enough to detect it, that can also be useful.
Pattern can't determine relative time flow between shadows, because the scope requires two shadows to interplay. As for magic, tech, and such Jerod has established tricks; attempt to use pattern to make a thing happen and see if probability allows it (e.g. a gun in a tree hollow or a lost magic ring in a river or an airplane overhead, etc). The tricks take time, but Jerod decides this is not a magic-rich shadow and it would support more technology than it seems to have.
"Impressions?" he asks, for both Cordelia and Vere, pointing to the buildings.
"Hard to imagine anything less like my home," says Cordelia. "There are no roads, and no other inhabited places that have smoke rising from them. What do they eat?"
"Depends on population density," Vere muses absently. "Smoke indicates relatively low heating technology, if that's indicative then those forests may contain sufficient wildlife to support hunting. When we get closer to the buildings we can look for signs of domesticated animals." He tilts his head to one side. "Difficult to say if this is their winter, or the typical climate for this place."
"We're a fair ways up the mountains." Jerod says, noting the view, taking a breath to gauge the air density to see how thin it is so as to determine general altitude. "Probability is high that we are in either early spring or fall conditions. Even in late spring temperatures will be below zero at night. Not getting a sense of serious magic here but basic technologies are feasible."
"The lack of roadwork makes me think this is an isolated area which would fit with the Abbot's comments. Think a monastic retreat. It would also fit with Chew's operational modes. Isolated environments, easy to control and sequester those who are there, difficult to locate. Which would mean either they sustain through hunting like you've said", nodding to Vere, "...or like most monastic groups, they get resupplied from outside."
"Either our quarry is still here, or they have been forwarded. By other Trump means, or they are travelling by foot or possibly horse and cart. Let's go take a look shall we?"
One thing Jerod will do is to do a Pattern trick check for firearms. Since they are in a mountainous area, and as Vere said hunting would allow for sustenance, if firearms were available, ammunition might have been expended in the area...lost cartridges being most common. He wants to know if they can work here, but he is careful not to force a conclusion by introducing an element to the Shadow that does not already exist.
Cordelia reaches down and picks up a spent cartridge. It's not machined, but it's definitely beyond powder horn levels of firearms technology. There are traces of powder of some sort inside it, but only traces.
Jerod takes the cartridge to study it. He pulls out a thin pencil from a pocket to get a look at a small amount of the trace material to see if it fits with classic black powder (what size of grain, does it look like conventional old style black powder, specifically the residue since the cartridge is spent, or does it look and smell different.)
It's some sort of smokeless powder, Jerod presumes. It smells oddly like persimmons. It may well be some sort of plant-based explosive instead of the kinds Jerod is familiar with.
As he looks at it, he speaks, first to Vere. "Be mindful." as he handle the cartridge. "If I think someone's got this when we encounter them, I'll be shutting it down as fast and hard as possible so sorcery is going to be real difficult, assuming it would have been easy before."
He looks at the cartridge for another moment, sifting it to see if he can get a feel for its natural "reality", to see if it matches this Shadow (meaning it was manufactured here, or was brought from outside) before handing it to Vere so he can look at it. If in order to do that he needs call on Pattern, he'll do it.
The pattern is required. It's not something Jerod can instinctively feel, but he does come away reasonably certain that there's no reason it couldn’t be manufactured here, which doesn't tell him if it was.
"Do you know what firearms are?" he asks Cordelia. He knows from his time in Twilight that firearms did not exist, nor was the Shadow sufficiently stable enough in its Chaos to allow for explosives of a technological nature, with sorcerous fire and explosive potions being more common.
She shakes her head, no. "It's not something I've heard of."
Vere examines the cartridge with interest, looking for clues as to the tech level that produced it.
Centerfire short cartridge, looks manufactured. There are squiggles on the bottom, probably writing, or caliber information. Nothing in sight suggests this is more than a hand-crafting shadow, so perhaps it was imported.
"Firearms are a projectile weapon, available typically in worlds where the technology is sufficient for chemical and industrial manufacturing, which produces items that are not naturally occurring. Firearms allow a projectile to be hurled at a target at extreme velocity so that even small pieces of metal can be immediately lethal. Think an arrowhead without the shaft, but travelling hundreds of meters per second." Jerod says, looking at Vere as he examines the cartridge.
"It's smokeless." he says to Vere. "That means chemical manufacturing unless this place has very precise chemical formulations for making gunpowder...has an odd odour, more plant based than hard chemical. It's possible it was manufactured in the shadow in another location and brought here. Let's be cautious shall we."
Vere nods at Jerod's information. "My guess on the cartridge is that it was probably manufactured in another shadow, although we still lack sufficient information to make a final determination." He looks at Cordelia. "Firearms are known as 'the great equalizer.' They allow an untrained person to kill a highly trained warrior at a distance. If anyone points something at you that you do not recognize then my advice is to immediately take cover if possible, and surrender if that is not practical. Surrendering may make them confident enough to come within striking distance."
"One more thing. Take a whiff." Jerod says, pointing to the cartridge. "That smells like persimmon. I learned about them growing up when dad had me running around Shadow. They're associated primarily with a culture on Shadow Earth that first developed gunpowder, a nation called China. Venesch would eat them constantly when they were available.
"Persimmon itself has no explosive behaviour, though it is possible someone has come up with a plant based explosive. The smell is distinctive however so if we smell it again, we can investigate. We will definitely want to know if they are importing firearms...the implications are not good. Someone would be preparing for a war on us."
Cordelia sniffs the cartridge, and wrinkles her nose. "Strong," she says. "If the monks move around, they probably take their weapons with themselves."
"Indeed." Jerod agrees. "If they know the paths they can transfer them without breaking their essential nature travelling through the wrong world."
Looking around, since snow has been mentioned, Jerod is looking for tracks, if any, leading from their arrival point towards the buildings, and if one in particular appears to have a bee-line.
If not, then he picks the biggest building that appears to be of a non-storage type (so a residential building, guild hall, temple, but not a barn) and they proceed.
As they approach, Jerod is looking at the overall picture of the buildings, getting a feel for how it is laid out, avenues of approach and departure, and potential danger points especially since firearms may be at hand.
Vere follows, watching for signs of movement from behind windows or on top of walls, natural points for any guards or snipers to be stationed.
The complex looks like it has a similar plan to the abbey in Orleans and others Jerod has visited. Outbuildings ring a central courtyard and work buildings and offices are in the middle. If the walls were higher (or in some cases existent), it would even be defensible.
There are no clear trails in the snow, which is, at this altitude, a very dry powder. Their own tracks are being hidden by the blowing wind. However there's a door on the main outbuilding and there is smoke coming from chimneys.
The windows and doors seem closed against the weather. The sun seems to be rising here, through a saddleback pass in the mountains. It's just not getting noticeably warmer.
Vere looks at Jerod. "How do we want to play this, Cousin?" he asks quietly.
Jerod looks back at the sunrise, tilting his head slightly. Vere would recognize it from past experience, plus he's likely to feel Jerod is futzing with probability.
Jerod motions them forward as he speaks quietly, mostly looking at Cordelia as he does. His tone is like he is reciting a set of matter-of-fact statements, but he is in fact building his probability adjustments and he is curious if she can sense it.
"I always found it interesting that it gets colder in the morning in mountains as the sun rises for a few hours. It's the effect of the sun heating the earth further down the mountain...actually causes higher level cold air to descend for a time. People here would be used to that, not something they would want to deal with early in the day.
"Especially in a place like this...an abbey or monastery. First people up are always the juniors, taking care of getting the fires going, preparing early meals or making sure that everything is ready for prayers and meditation...all the while for the more senior people who can sleep in a bit. They'll be very busy taking care of more important things than wandering around neglecting their duties, especially in such an isolated environment where visitors are few and far between.
"I foresee the likelihood of them noticing us to be pretty much non-existent." he says, putting the final touches on things.
Cordelia looks at him as if he's not making a lot of sense, or perhaps he’s deluding himself, but she doesn’t say anything.
He looks at Vere. "If we get intercepted, we're following in the path of our brothers who preceded us from Orleans. It will buy us enough time to get close and deal with threats. We look around, see what we can find, see where our quarry went. We should consider as well they may have another place Trump here. This could just be another way station and they've already moved on. If so, we need to secure it....both to continue the journey as well as to break their chain of communications to our benefit."
Cordelia looks at the door, "OK, so we go in and see how lying to them works. We should get on with it, the longer we stand out here the more likely we'll be seen."
Which is what happens now that Jerod has answered Vere's question.
Vere concentrates on the certainty that in such an isolated location it would be unlikely in the extreme that doors would be locked, and opens the door. If the door does indeed open, and there is no one waiting on the other side, he will enter the building.
The door opens and Vere enters, followed by Cordelia. "I don't mind cold, but I'm not a fan of snow. It's just there to make something wet later."
The room is small, not particularly well lit, and full of cloaks and coats and other winter outerwear. There are puddles near some of the boots. There are doors on each side of the room, further away on the two sides. In Orleans, this would've led to the center courtyard. There are tracks leading to one of the side doors. The door across the way is heavier, since it leads outside.
A handful of cloaks on the racks look lighter and might not be from this shadow.
Jerod makes note of the number of cloaks, checking the material to see if it isn't quite right and more appropriate to Paris for example, plus the number of crew they are supposed to be pursuing.
There are a few more out of shadow cloaks than there are future-victims-of-your-collective-wrath being pursued. But there are a few that look like they were machine-made, which Paris would just barely support.
The door which has the tracks leading to it will get a listen to hear if anything can be noted.
Apparently the people behind the door are sleeping in or not paying attention to the outside. There's nothing to be heard. If this is designed like Orleans' priory, then this would be a corridor with storage rooms leading to a back hall. It might also have steps down to the basement. If they have basements in this shadow. It would require a lot of rock moving if they did.
Vere swiftly searches for pockets on the lighter cloaks, concentrating on the probability that someone might have left something that gives an indication of who they are or where they came from.
Pockets are not en vogue yet amongst the people of Paris, despite Alice Roth's best efforts.
Verifying there sounds like no immediate activity on the other side of the door, Jerod pauses to feel the material of one of the cloaks, nothing what it is made of and the obvious inconsistencies both with Paris and this Shadow, checking quickly for additional inconsistencies...ex: thread patterns that would require high speed machine stitching from electrically powered machines.
"More guests from out of town." Jerod says to Vere, motioning to the newer cloaks. "Let's go make some friends.", his tone carrying a slight note of sarcasm.
Vere leans over the more modern cloaks, sniffing them to see if he can detect any traces of industrial fumes indicating they come from a higher technology shadow than Paris.
Once Vere and Cordelia have done whatever checks they are undertaking, Jerod opens the door to the next room to see what awaits them. He does it as quietly as is reasonable, but he is not being stealthy (trying to barely open it enough to get a look inside, for example).
Vere prepares to either fight or follow Jerod, depending on what happens when the door is open.
The door opens to a room that is very similar to the corner room in Orleans. There are storage rooms and a stairs down to a basement, and a corridor that runs to the main building. It's not an easy place to have a basement, but the plans call for one.
It's eerily empty, as if the building is hibernating. At least it's warm.
There's the sound of someone in one of the side rooms. Or at least the sound of scratching.
Jerod moves quietly to the door of the side room, listening for a moment to determine the nature of the scratching (painting, cleaning, cooking, writing?). He motions silently to Vere and Cordelia to the basement as a point of interest given how difficult it would be to have one in this locale if they went to all the trouble of building it.
Vere nods at Jerod's gesture, then tilts his head to one side. He mentally compares what he has seen of the arrangement of buildings here with his mental schematic of the monks' warren of tunnels in Paris, looking for similarities in design and planning.
If this building is built exactly like the convent in Paris, it would be easy for Vere to tell, but it was 2.1 feet longer in the transverse axis, based on how far Vere had walked from the outer door to the corridor side door. If it were to scale evenly, there would be 3 rooms along the near wall and another door at the far end of the passage, but it doesn't seem to be a perfect copy. It's annoyingly close, though.
The scratching, which has the cadence of writing, stops. There are a few more sounds as if someone is tidying up after completing a task. Now there are steps coming to the door.
It's likely that they're about to meet a resident.
Jerod looks at Vere and Cordelia to warn them of the arrival as he moves into a position advantageous to dealing with the person coming through the door. Vere is going to see clearly that he's planning to ambush this person.
He will take up a position such that he can easily immobilize the person, without beating him unconscious and as well as keep him quiet by covering his mouth. He can certainly knock him unconscious, but a more cooperative guide is useful, and Cordelia's gifts can help in that vein. Assuming Jerod is successful he'll be motioning Cordelia forward to glamour him.
Vere takes a few steps away from the door and faces it. He is hoping that when the door is opened and the person inside sees him standing there, unexpected but not threateningly close, they will be momentarily distracted without being so alarmed as to immediately attack or shout. That should give Jerod the opportunity to seize them without difficulty.
The door opens and a man stands there, somewhat surprised. "Oh," he says, "Why it's Prince Vere! I didn't expect to see you here. This is a long way from the seas of Amber. Is now before or after the destruction?"
Cordelia looks confused.
Vere recognizes the man as "Elder Germaine" of the Paresh.
"Elder Germaine!" Vere exclaims. "We are quite some distance from Asirria, as well, which was where we last met. How came you here?"
Jerod's change in composure from "ready to pounce" to "why hello" is both remarkable and based on past experience dealing with Court. His look to Cordelia is one of patience as he waits to see what happens given this unexpected turn. Vere knows the goal so Jerod will wait to see how he unfolds it.
"Seeking knowledge, of course, Prince Vere." He looks around. "The spirits led me here, and the religious of this house are willing to exchange knowledge for a price.
"How is your sister? I was sorry that she was afflicted at the farm on Asir."
He seems completely oblivious to Cordelia and has not yet addressed Jerod.
"She is quite well, thank you," Vere replies. "I never did have a chance to speak with the Questioners of the Oracle. Are they related to the religious order here?"
"Hmm? Oh, no, not really. This place belongs to some very knowledgeable people who follow, alas, a false religion. But they are willing to buy and sell knowledge. Oh, and my condolences to your family about Lord Sincere."
Meanwhile, Jerod takes a look inside where Germaine came from to see what is there.
It looks as utilitarian as most of the rooms in the abbey, which is to say it has a desk, a cabinet, and a window covered by a curtain. The curtain lets through light, but looks to Jerod to be the source of the cold in the room. There's no bed or chairs. There are a few books on a small shelf which also has writing implements -- a knife, a blotter, a pot of ink, and similar tools. Perhaps there is paper in the cabinet.
Cordelia walks slowly past Elder Germaine. He doesn't seem to see her.
Jerod does not to interfere with Cordelia's concentration as she moves past Germaine. Once she is past, he will slip into the room and be sure to close the door...quietly.
Then a riffling of room to see what they can find.
Vere nods his head and says, "Thank you for your condolences. May I ask if you have already conducted your business with the monks here? I am surprised that you would need to purchase knowledge, with your contacts with the spirits."
Elder Germaine smiles. "We each have our own experience dealing with the spirts. In my personal witness, they tell you what they think you need to know, rather than what you want to know." He pauses. "I am compiling a history of the Amber trading empire, and there is information from the reign of Clarissa the Queen that was not well known in Amber, and so I came here to ask after it."
Elder Germaine moves aside for Jerod, nodding politely.
Vere nods. "I see," he says in response to Germaine's explanation. "We have only just arrived, ourselves. What can you tell us about our hosts? Any information would be useful."
"Oh, the Brothers? Well, they are an ancient sect of librarians of sorts. Their lore is that they pre-date Amber, but there's no evidence for that, and the current histories talk about Klybus, who was a charismatic prophet of some sort. Individual members can be quite kind and generous, but I fear that the hierarchy have misconstrued the Klybesian objectives of gathering information for the benefit of all peoples.
"A pity, really. The doctrine as we understand it is complementary to the services to the poor that the Paresh provide."
He looks down the hall. "It's strange, really. I haven't seen my hosts for most of the morning. They must be busy with their visitor."
Vere nods. "It is a pity how missions can shift over ages. I put it down to the tendency for over-aggressive individuals to move into positions of authority, slowly corrupting the organization's original purpose towards one more selfish and less altruistic." He sighs. "A pity. Perhaps the Paresh have avoided this through your more spiritual focus."
"Perhaps, or it may be that we are small and not rich, and do not have the temptations of power and money to draw succeeding generations towards greed and control." He pauses. "And yet I have heard of orders of poor knights, who forced themselves to ride two-to-a-horse to show their vocational poverty, where the order itself become richer than Kings." He does not elaborate.
Vere tilts his head to one side. "A visitor, you say? A member of their order from elsewhere, perhaps?"
"A Doctor of Philosophy, apparently. They have been in conclave since last night. I expected they would be done by now. Their dead are close to them, with the ghosts of former monks and abbots in conclave with them."
"Ah," Vere says thoughtfully. "That is most interesting." His eyes focus on somewhere behind Germaine's left shoulder. "We were hoping to speak to one of their Doctors of Philosophy, as it happens. Did you happen to hear their name?"
Elder Germaine thinks for several moments. "Tchu, I think. It wasn't an Amber name at all. The spirits don't like him." He looks down the empty hall. "Would you like some Coffee? I was just going to the kitchens for a mug of it."
"In a bit, perhaps," Vere replies absently. He leans against a wall and smiles. "Have the spirits said anything to you in specific about this doctor, or is it just a general impression you have that they mislike him?"
Elder Germain shakes his head. "In this case, they consider him a threat. Whatever he has done to alienate them, they haven't shared it. I suspect that the contentiousness of the meeting has something to do with it."
"Contentiousness?" Vere tilts his head to one side. "How interesting. What is the nature of this contention?"
"The spirits are concerned with the politics of their era, not the current one. But they are clearly on the side of their descendants. If I were to wager, it's either liturgical practice or tithes to the mother chapter that are the issue. It's usually one of the two."
"Liturgical practice can mean many things," Vere muses. "And sometimes highlight a difference in interpretation of what an organization holds in highest regard." He smiles slightly. "I know you well enough to doubt that you have bothered yourself with such unimportant points as their doctrinal differences."
Germaine looks abashed. "We are a practical sect, my Lord. We concern ourselves with how well a group treats other people and spirits."
"I fear," Vere replies sadly, "that our evidence has been that this organization does not rank highly under that criterion."
Once past Germaine and with the door closed, Jerod and Cordelia are back to riffling.
Cordelia nods towards the door. "I'm pretty sure he can see me, but doesn't choose to. That's... more of something my mother's people had going for them."
Jerod goes looking around as she speaks, noting her comments. "They don't tend to work on family...we're resistant to the mental influences required. Like glamouring." he says, smiling for a moment as he remembers something old and dear.
"Why hide from him?" he asks.
She shrugs. "I don't know if he can't see me, isn't bothering with me because Vere is more interesting, or has some sort of religious bias against the partially dead." She pauses. "It's not common for me; People see me, although I tend to somehow be who they expected, as if I was natural and should just be there. They don't notice me, sometimes, but it's a different kind of not noticing. His eyes didn't track me at all." She smiles, and her teeth are just slightly pointed. "It's different, so I investigated."
Jerod nods. "Germaine represents a group known as the Paresh. Vere can tell you more about them if you wish. He tends to connect to them more than I do, given that he can speak to ghosts."
He speaks as he riffles, moving efficiently through anything that might be of interest, wanting to get through this quick before getting back to Vere and their search. "What you're describing could be ascribed to my side. I know your mother could make people forget about us, or think they saw something else...we used that more than a few times during our travels. But I recall she had actively to do it. For us we say that the shadows lie for us. We tend to fit naturally into the area we find ourselves."
He finishes with a cabinet of drawers and stops to look at her. "Things like languages, and how to read written script. How we know how money works, common cultural aspects. Why we can fit in even though we may look out of place...because we choose it instinctively. The more attuned you are with the family gift, the easier it is to, more unconscious it becomes. It also fits if you don't want to be noticed. You're not invisible to people...you just...decide...that they're not going to be interested in you.
"Doesn't always work..for me it's usually if the place is too close to Order so I can't manipulate it, or the nature of the change for me to fit in would break something with how that world works. Like in Twilight...the humans there wouldn't notice me...but your mother's people could spot me a mile away."
"You're pretty noticeable. It was one of the things Mother talked about."
There's a case with a lock, but not a serious lock. More of a "your sister's diary" lock or "your luggage lock", that basically tells you if someone chose to break the lock. It's big enough to hold papers. The room is spartan other than the desk and the writing materials. The window is closed and barred, likely against the cold, and looks as if it hasn't been opened since the end of summer.
Jerod smiles in remembrance as he looks at the lock. "Did she use the phrase Bull in a China shop?"
He examines the case as well for booby-traps, given the experience from the pursuit with the monks and the chest, in case anything needs to get suppressed or made "unlikely to happen".
"The spirits are concerned with the politics of their era, not the current one.But they are clearly on the side of their descendants. If I were to wager, it's either liturgical practice or tithes to the mother chapter that are the issue. It's usually one of the two."
"What else did she talk about?" he asks.
The lock is plain and there's no real place for a booby trap. If it were forced open, it would be obvious, but that's about it.
Cordelia chuckles. "No fishing for compliments, Dad. She talked about you a lot." She pauses and has a more serious look when she continues.
"I think she thought you'd be really upset if you figured out she hadn't really explained how her people die. Or don't."
Jerod lets his fingers trace over the lock as her words sink in. For a moment, he imagines he smells nightshade and he smiles sadly...just a memory.
"Yes, she'd be right. I would have been upset." he says, forcing the lock easily before opening the case absently as he looks at her.
Inside are Elder Germaine's notes for the history he is writing. It's might be an interesting read. It does talk about the Klybesians in Amber in the time of Queen Dybele, but they sound harmless in what he quickly skims.
"But anger's not worth holding onto. And I still would have loved her...that was never hard to do."
Cordelia grins. "Awww. She fell hard for that. Wouldn’t work on me, but I know it did on her." She looks over Jerod’s shoulder at the writing. "His handwriting is awful."
Jerod smiles at her words though he does not reply. He knows though that love always works...once you've found it.
It seems like something Cambina would have said.
"And the topic is suitably bland but it may have some value filling in the gaps on the monks historically." Jerod says, putting the papers back. "Finding him here was not expected, so I want to be sure we haven't gotten another enemy to deal with.
"Speaking of enemies...and their escape routes," he says. "Need to check to see if there's a trump around here. Hold a moment while I try something."
And like the previous attempt that was apparently impacted by recent Pattern activity (aka: interference), he is looking for the reality instance of a trump within the confines of the monastery grounds, expanding his Pattern awareness slowly to encompass the grounds. Logically, since he is carrying some he would detect those first but his target is whether there is a Place Trump located here.
Jerod reaches out, looking for something that isn't quite right, or a link to something that isn't quite right, or is quite right, but isn't right here. A sorcerer would do this with their third eye, but the very act of using sorcery would shut down trumps.
Jerod stretches, seeking for a wrinkle in space, a shadow path painted on a card, a persona that is elsewhere, but conditionally here. It takes a tremendous effort and it’s just not working. Jerod wonders if it would make a difference if someone was using the Trump.
Just as his minute of effort fades, he thinks he's on to something. But perhaps not a trump. Did something notice him? Something not friendly, perhaps. And assuredly not human. Not in any way that he understands the term, anyway.
"Son of a..." Jerod curses, putting the case down. "Come on." and he heads back into the other room.
"Vere, we've got company." he says, ignoring Germaine. "Don't know if it's friendly. Pretty sure it's not human. We need to find our quarry."
"It appears likely that Doctor Chew is here," Vere says. He straightens from his leaning position against the wall and nods at Germaine. "Elder Germaine speaks of dissension in their ranks and spirits who do not approve of Chew." He tilts his head to one side. "I see several possibilities, including artificial intelligence, preserved personality matrices, and actual ghosts."
"I am thinking ghosts maybe given where we are." Jerod says. "I think dawdling might be counter productive...not to mention giving Chew a chance to get away....again."
"Where is the not-so esteemed doctor?" he asks. Vere can easily read the signs of the prince lurking now beneath his expression, a sure sign he means to finish this once and for all.
"Somewhere in the meeting rooms or offices, I expect." Germaine waves vaguely further in towards the monastery.
Cordelia snorts. "This should be easier than going in to the sewers. No drops."
"And no waterfalls." Jerod says, looking at Elder Germaine. "Apologies Elder but we must deal with an irritant." before saying to Vere. "Let's go get him."
Assuming there's nothing to immediately prevent them proceeding, that would mean heading further into the monastery, by the most expedient avenue possible.
Vere nods to Germaine and follows Jerod. "He will have trumps close to hand," he murmurs quietly. "Preventing him from accessing them must be a priority."
Germaine looks slightly alarmed, as it dawns on him what is about to happen.
"Indeed." Jerod replies, speaking to both of them as they walk. "We need to grab Chew by whatever means necessary. Alive for sure...but that doesn't mean he needs to be conscious or undamaged though it does help if he can at least walk. I doubt the King will mind much in that case. Very sure Martin and Folly won't care.
"Once we find him, if he's got a group guarding him let me handle them. You two go after him, get him secured then evaluate what is happening. If things are going sideways, get him out. I don't care how."
"Oh, dear. Should I leave? It sounds like things may become awkward," Germaine says. "I have written enough about the violence of the ruling class that I do not wish to experience it personally.”
Meanwhile, Jerod feels the press of a Trump connection.
Jerod hears Elder Germaine's comment and is almost ready to say something but stops suddenly, that momentary inward look that Vere would recognize immediately. He lets Vere handle the Elder in this moment.
"We're about to grab Chew and something always comes up." Jerod mutters to himself, focusing to adjust his projection, minus any surroundings. He knows the number of trumps of him are limited, but the booth card means anyone else might be able to use it.
"Who calls?"
"It's Martin," Martin says. He's not subtle; he never has been. As Jerod well knows, he has an issue with Trumps. "We need to talk, unless you've got a big emergency." He's holding up a hand that Jerod recognizes as a 'bide' signal to someone to one side of him.
Knowing Martin's dislike of Trumps, Jerod is equally direct. "Not emergency but important. We're in pursuit of Chew. I'm here with Vere and..." he pauses momentarily to try to explain and decides a later time is better. "...and new Family. He's here now in an out of the way monastery with associates, who apparently like low tech guns. We're about to go get him now.
"You want in?" he asks. "If so, it's gotta be now. He's not getting away."
Vere takes Germaine's arm and leads him a short distance away from Jerod. "Can you depart without anyone here knowing it?" he asks, his voice serious. "Doctor Chew has taken certain actions against the Family, and the King would like to speak to him regarding this. I would not want you to accidentally come between Prince Jerod and his sense of duty."
Germaine nods. "It was widely reported on before the Regency and..." He slows, looking at Vere. "Wait, perhaps you can clear up a matter for me. How do your people describe the sequence of events for me that preceded the Regency, starting with Prince Jerod's father...."
He seems to have forgotten to leave and is doing more research, by interviewing a primary source.
Vere pats Germaine's arm. "Later perhaps." He nods towards Jerod. "It sounds as though more of our Family may be coming, and that increases the chance of violence. Your people need you, and I would not have you risk yourself."
Martin says to whoever is on the other end of the connection. "Two coming through. Folly," he calls, "take care of Lark. We're going to give Jerod a hand winding up Dr. Chew." He takes Rowen's hand and pulls her through the Trump connection.
Germaine looks concerned, but agrees with Vere. "I shall fetch my things." Before he can move, Martin and Rowen arrive in burst of coruscating light.
Martin appears to have been in court because he's dressed formally and wearing his colors. He does have the privilege of arms before the King, and has a sword in hand.
Attached to his other hand, however briefly as the shimmering lights fade, is a woman in equally court-appropriate attire. Modestly, she is dressed predominantly in dark greens with ivory highlights and trim, with a form-fitting bodice and a slight flare at the hem of the ankle-length dress that is remarkably "in fashion" for Xanadu, by luck or intent. She does not appear to be bearing any weapons at all. Slightly taller than average, her height is accentuated by her slenderness. Though her features are borderline ethereal, she still bears some of the baby fat of her youth. She does not appear to be wearing cosmetics and her nails are unlacquered, but trimmed. Worn up and in a bun, her hair is earthy and radiant in a vibrant reddish-brown.
By the look of wonder on her face, it's entirely likely one won't need more than a hand to count the number of times she's gone through a Trump.
Germaine stands, mouth slightly agape for a moment, then bows to Prince Martin. If he had been reluctant to leave before, he is not reluctant any more.
Martin makes the introductions by pointing. "Rowen, Jerod, Vere," he pauses to look at the man Vere is talking to "is that Elder Germaine of the Paresh? And I don't believe, lady," he adds to Cordelia, "that we've been introduced. Martin, of Amber and Rebma and Xanadu. Jerod and Vere are my cousins."
To Rowen he adds, "Chew is dangerous and we can't let him escape."
The statement earns him a curt and efficient nod from her.
Germaine looks at Cordelia as if just noticing that she is there.
"Then we are cousins as well, since I am Jerod's daughter, Cordelia. A pleasure to meet you, cousin." She holds out a gloved hand for him to shake.
Martin blinks but isn't fast enough to beat Jerod's reaction.
Jerod smiles, given Cordelia's response isn't surprising. If she didn't take after him in being direct, then she got it from Marissa who was never shy about making her presence known when it suited her.
Though he suspects it is probably a bit of both, and he smiles a bit more. That is definitely a combination.
He just looks at Martin and says "Yes he is..." motioning to Germaine. "Yes she is..." nodding to Cordelia..."and I'll explain later...after Chew is ensconced."
Martin nods, once. (Those explanations are going to go both ways.)
Martin will notice that Jerod's attire is not his traditional look. His father's heavy sword is missing as is his own spear, replaced with two shorter single edged blades, silvered and etched with some kind of filigree or runes. His clothing is fashioned in the style of a priest coat, though slightly heavier to account for a colder environment. The clothing is dark like he normally wears but there is an odd set of patterns stitched into it with a dark violet thread that shimmers slightly in shadows. Both the clothing and the blades are clearly of very high craftsmanship, as close to works of art as one can find in functional items.
"Cordelia." he says, looking at her. "Martin is my cousin and my best friend. You may trust him in all things."
Cordelia nods, once.
He looks at Rowen, noting her features. Anything reminiscent of the Weir would be instantly recognized. "Rowen." he says, a clear greeting since she accompanies his friend.
Indeed the hints he seeks are there: the tell tale peach fuzz on her cheeks, the thickness of her brows, the darkness of the eyes, and the resemblance to one of his recent Gateway commandos, Reynart. If he looks beyond the red hair and superficial facial features, he'll find her countenance carries even more familiarity than that, occupying an odd intersection between multiple circles in the family Venn diagram.
"Prince Jerod," she replies, sweeping into a curtsey that safely addresses the room, given the uncertain but definitely mixed company of relatives. "I was disappointed to have missed your visit. The Count had sent me," a beat, "elsewhere." Her mouth drops into an open-mouthed smile, a little sly and playful, but simultaneously predatory.
"What do we know about who we are hunting?" She used a collective pronoun, but it's apparent she knows it's really for her benefit. The underlying directness wants for brevity and relevance.
Vere nods a greeting to Rowan when she is introduced. He is a young man with a short beard and long black hair worn in braids. Two locks of colored hair, auburn and silver, are braided into a true lovers' knot over his right ear. He wears trousers of a blue so dark that they appear black in most light, tucked into knee high black leather boots. He wears a gray shirt under a tunic of azure, patterned with dark gray celtic knots.
"Prince Martin has met Doctor Chew before, and perhaps knows more of his capabilities than anyone else. We do know that he likely has trumps, and we must endeavour to prevent him from using them to escape. He is visiting this enclave of the Klybesians and we are told..." he nods towards Elder Germaine, "...that he is in some dispute with the local monks over his actions. Quite possibly due to having brought our attention down on the Order. It is possible that if properly motivated the locals will choose not to aid him against us. In addition..." he nods to Jerod, "...there appears to be an inhuman intelligence of some sort that has become aware of us. Little is known about it as of yet, although Elder Germaine has mentioned that the local spirits are unhappy with Doctor Chew."
Martin frowns at that last bit. He unsheathes his blade--he was armed, for all that they were in court--and hands it to Rowen. "I know you don't necessarily need this but you should have it anyway. Something I've concluded after thinking a lot about my first run-in with Chew is that I don't think he left Tyrell by card. I think he left by sorcery. So I'm going to prevent him from doing that while the rest of you get him."
"I'd rather you not be without, in case you need it," Rowen replies. With a flick of the wrist, she produces a dagger, simple in design and well-worn but well cared-for. "I have my own means, Including others, if I'm allowed the full range of my abilities," she adds, directing the question toward Jerod. It sounds more like a question of etiquette.
Elder Germaine nods when his name is mentioned, says "If you'll excuse me, I must gather my things before leaving." He goes to open the study door he'd previously come out of.
Martin takes the blade back since Rowen doesn't want it.
Jerod watches Rowen during Vere's commentary as well as Martin's blade hand-off. He knows him well enough that Martin would not bring non-Family here...this is a Family issue, something not for outsiders. Plus her odd familiarity makes him more focused on her for the moment...he even sniffs at her, trying to put the various pieces together.
But he lets that go for the moment. The pieces will come together later, when the time is more appropriate. For now, there are more important tasks at hand.
Once Elder Germaine has moved into the study and out of earshot, Jerod speaks. "Martin will stay back, cover our rear and make sure there's no sorcery for Chew or others to utilize." he says. "That means any abilities that are based off that or have characteristics of Sorcery are going to be having problems functioning. We don't want to use our own though and make it harder to suppress it...that can give Chew an opportunity if Martin is having to fight multiple points of power.
"So no full scale Sorcery unless absolutely necessary."
Vere nods his understanding of the no-Sorcery rule.
Rowen maintains a bland non-reaction to this directive.
"I'll repeat for you what I told Vere and Cordelia," he says to Rowen. "Chew is our only target. We want him alive and for questioning. He doesn't have to be fully functional but we need his information. So broken bones and unconscious doesn't bother me.
"Guns are functional here, we have found evidence of low tech cartridges," and he motions to Vere (who kept the sample). "We'll keep them suppressed as much as possible but they're a wild card. So when we find Chew, we move fast, we grab him, and we get out."
Vere tosses the spent cartridge to Martin, who has a greater familiarity with firearms than himself, and whose greater experience through shadow might give him a better chance to interpret the markings upon it.
Martin catches the cartridge and examines it, sniffing it. "I'm used to more complicated firearms. Higher tech." He wrinkles his nose. "Unless they've got some kind of repeating gun with this ammo, we should be fine for this job. Try not to get shot," he says to Rowen, adding, "if you know what a gun is. If not, don't let them point anything at you bigger than a finger."
Rowen acknowledges with a simple nod.
"If he's got a group of bodyguards, let me deal with them. Vere, you and Cordelia make sure you get him if I'm occupied. Get him out and back to Martin or out of here. That is your only priority, get him and finish this," Jerod says, the Prince creeping into his voice.
Vere nods once more.
"Rowen, you're with me. Use your...abilities..." and he smiles. "...to best advantage. If I'm in the middle of monks, stay on their flanks, keep them scared."
The dagger disappears back wherever it came from as she moves behind him, to his scabbard side. The sleight is quick enough to make it unclear except to the most observant. Recalling admonitions from her mother, she subtly concentrates on the beginning of a shift, but only enough to test for resistance of this place, that she has come to know as a Shadow.
He looks over at Martin in case he has anything to add before looking at the others. "Questions, comments? Cries of anguish?" and he grins, a bit wolfish this time.
Martin shakes his head once. "Let's do it," he says.
"Is this Chew within this building or will this be a longer hunt?" Rowen asks, absorbing the details of the room as things settle down a bit. "How large is this... place?"
"Chew is here." Jerod says. "Within the monastery confines. Elder Germaine has given us a direction. The layout is straight forward. We search this level, keeping an eye out for a basement substructure. We're looking for a group of people.
"Expect tunnels connecting the surface buildings," Vere adds. "And possibly leading to shadow paths to other worlds."
"Let's go."
Cordelia says "If it's laid out the same as the one in Paris, we go down this hall to the kitchens, out the double doors to the right, through the dining hall and directly across the courtyard to the chapter room. I might be able to tell if they're there as we approach. I think we should stay above ground. Tunnels are traps, and we're not ferrets."
Rowen is pretty sure she'll know where a room full of dozens of people is, even if it's cold here.
Cordelia leads the way at a run, but not one that would make any of the royals run out of breath. Her prediction is correct; there are kitchens at the corner where the hallways meet. The dining hall is where she expects and in a corridor behind it, are stairs going down and a pair of double doors leading out, further into the compound.
She's found a butcher's knife in the kitchen.
Martin is holding up the rear.
Meanwhile, Elder Germaine, in a large furry coat, is leaving by the door that Jerod and Vere came in by. He's got a large box of papers with him and is heading away from the abbey as quickly as possible.
Jerod makes a note to get Cordelia training once they are back "home", as it were, after seeing her with butcher's knife in hand, though he does see an odd symmetry in a slightly angry half-vampyr chasing down her wannabe captors with a butcher knife.
He then shakes his head and definitely makes a note...training.
And while they are on the move, Jerod motions for Rowen to move up. He would also recognize her natural talents in detecting large groups of people and he never wastes a good skill set.
Once at the juncture, he looks at Rowen and Cordelia. "Anything?" he asks.
Logically, they can split up to cover both, but his inclination is that if there's a strong track, they go and chase it down.
Vere opens his third eye, looking to see if there is anything unusual about either the doors or the stairs.
Behind most of the group, but in view of Martin bringing up the rear, the light plays tricks on Rowen's clothing, bleeding the dark green of her dress into nearby shadows that seem to expand to engulf her temporarily. In the unfocused darkness, her slender form expands, growing fuzzy around the edges. Dropping onto all fours, the figure that emerges into the dim light, quite a few heartbeats later, is that of a large red-furred wolf, with a longer, slender snout and sharp, blazing eyes.
Coming up beside Jerod, she brushes his leg with her side, announcing her presence by touch before coming into his visual periphery. Sniffing about the corridors, she seeks out the newest and freshest scents to determine their direction, out or down.
Vere starts to open his Third Eye and realizes Martin is already using the Pattern to forestall sorcery. It would be foolish to open his Third Eye completely; Vere could easily blind himself.
Rowen, meanwhile, is finding fascinating scents all over the place. Down the stairs are earthy, musty scents; ahead is the door to the outside. And beyond, the smell of people. Fear-stink. And smoke. And blood.
Cordelia opens the door into the courtyard. Across the way, in the building where Chew should be, there is a similar door. Similar, except that it has been torn open and wisps of smoke are starting to emerge from it. Monks are fleeing into the courtyard, toward the group, though the presence of a wolf and armed men is clearly daunting and no one seems willing to approach them.
The smell of men and smoke and blood is stronger to Rowen's sensitive snout.
"Well, shit," Martin says.
Jerod's expletive is equally verbose as he breaks into a run to close the distance with the monks.
He scans the group quickly, looking to see if Chew is amongst them. On the off chance that he is, then that's the one Jerod is going to be chasing down.
However, the probability is far more likely that one of the spirits that disliked Chew is responsible for a shredded door and smoke, so that's where he's heading eventually.
For the monks here, he issues a very direct threat. "Nobody goes anywhere. You run, you're prey." he says, more than loud enough for everyone to hear him. He doesn't need to point to the wolf to show why running is a foolish option.
With that, he heads inside, blades in hand.
Cordelia moves to block the courtyard exit through which Jerod and company entered, butcher knife in hand, smiling.
Vere looks over the fleeing monks as well, looking for any of them that stand out from the rest. Failing that, he will attempt to determine which of them is being treated as an authority figure by the others, and very briefly demand, "What is happening?" He will delay following Jerod long enough to get a response.
"It's a monster!" one of the frightened monks cries out, to Vere or Jerod or really anyone who's listening. "Even bigger than that!" He points at Rowen.
The wolf circles the fleeing monks, perhaps sending their fear. Are they aggressive or merely running from some earlier threat within? If this group doesn't present a threat, physically at least, she charges into the building across the courtyard, on the heels of Jerod.
The monks are terrified. They stink of fear.
"Someone's trying sorcery," Martin yells in Jerod's general direction. Stage voice means he can be heard above the noise of the crowd.
Jerod enters the other building, which is some kind of library or conference room, for working and reading and possibly writing. Rowen is at Jerod's heels and Vere a step or two behind.
The scene that greets them is this: a pale man in the robes of the monk, fitting the description that Jerod and Vere have of Dr Hannibal Chew, is performing what Jerod and Vere strongly suspect is a sorcerous gesture. He's probably trying to get out of there. One of the tables has been turned on its side as a barrier, probably sorcerously, because it might be too big and unwieldy for a normal man to tip (an Amberite could probably manage it strictly in terms of strength but it would be hard because of the leverage required).
On the far side of the table, which Jerod and Vere can see and hear and Rowen can also detect by a number of senses, is a giant wolf, bigger than Rowen. The wolf is white-furred, and probably a small adult could ride the wolf's shoulders. It's also really angry and trying to smash the table to get at Chew.
To Rowen the wolf smells like a person, with some traces of exotic scent, nothing she's ever really encountered before, including shipboard with Martin. The wolf is not a Weir, and Rowen doesn't feel like it's anything related to the Moonriders either.
Jerod takes in the situation as soon as he's in and heads for Chew. He will approach from as close to behind Chew as possible, grab him and spin around to hurl him back towards Vere. He is not gentle about doing it either...he wants Chew in custody and not eaten so a few injuries are not something he would be worried about inflicting.
That would mean, if successful, Jerod is between the wolf, Chew and the others.
Vere's intent is to catch Chew, render him unconscious immediately, and get him out of the building.
Rowen swings out toward the wolf side of Jerod when he moves forward, covering his flank while he moves up to deal with Chew. She focuses on the wolf, flashing her red fur to increase her size. Respecting Jerod's stealth, she does this a quietly as possible and out of Chew's periphery.
Jerod is able to get behind the table with Chew, narrowly missing being chomped in the massive jaws of the wolf. He probably really wishes he had his spear with him for this; it would be much easier to fend the wolf off with the spear and let Vere or Rowen get Chew out of there. But Jerod can tell that if he throws Chew out toward Vere and Rowen that Chew is wolf chow. He is between Chew and the wolf but not between the wolf and the other two.
It's probably because of Rowen's interference that Jerod doesn't get bitten, which might have been a disabling wound. She can still protect Vere if she wants. Vere could easily end up as wolf chow too.
Chew grunts in frustration as his attempt to do whatever he was doing, probably flee, fails.
The wolf speaks, in growling Thari. "That one stole my child. If you aid him, you too are my enemy. Stand aside!"
Since Chew has failed to escape, Jerod makes sure to hit him in the head...hard enough to stun or knock him out, since he's close enough to toss him but not to turn him into wolf-kibble.
Chew collapses to the ground like a pole-axed monk.
"This one is also our enemy." Jerod says. "I claim him as my prisoner by my right as Prince of Amber and father of one whom he also dared to harm, and on behalf my other kin he has dared to harm and kidnap, over many decades."
He looks the wolf directly, not enough to be a challenge for conflict, but enough for them to recognize he's an alpha and will stand his ground. "I would prefer not to fight but I will do so if I must. This one will answer for his crimes, but many were taken by him. I would seek to know their status...do they still live and can they be returned to their families. For that I need him alive.
"If your child is amongst the numbers of whom we seek, then let us help you to regain them.
"What say you to this?"
Vere observes the white wolf carefully, watching for any signs giving clues to its emotions and intentions, ready to take action if it decides to attack, but carefully not doing anything threatening while conversation continues.
The smells of predation fill the air, pushing the limits of the room's ability to contain two wolves flaring for a fight. Imposing herself between the white wolf and Vere, Rowen backs off on her aggression, giving room for Jerod's offer of peace to take root. She readies herself for an attack, but doesn't goad one. Taking the marginal lull in the pace of battle, she studies the wolf's scents, probing at the humanness of it and memorizing the details of it... and Chew, out of the corners of her senses.
The scent Rowen gets from Chew is ... overwhelmed by his blood. Jerod knocked him out and he probably has a scalp wound. Those can bleed a lot without being dangerous. Jerod seems competent enough to have done it right and he clearly didn't want Chew dead.
From the other creature, the wolf, again, the scents are unfamiliar, but Rowen classifies them as spices, possibly incense, possibly perfume? Nothing like the smells of the Golcondan contingent on board, not really like the Amberites. Florals and herbs, a citrus that's unfamiliar, that kind of thing.
The wolf starts to stand up on its hind legs, not in an "about to leap" way, but whatever it was going to do doesn't happen and it falls back on all fours. "I cannot take my human shape to parlay here," it says, still in Thari. "Something prevents it." Rowen has no trouble reading the scent of that as 'stressed'.
The other wolf relaxes, taking a calm demeanor that even leads to sitting on her haunches, deescalating.
"It is the power that prevented Chew from escaping our mutual grasp." Jerod says. "We will cease its use now that he is our mutual captive."
"Rowen." he says looking at her. "Tell Martin we have Chew and he can stop. Explain why if he asks specifically. Find out as well if he needs help with the other monks...they may have valuable information. Vere, do me a favor. Secure Chew, make sure he's not going anywhere when he wakes up, but keep him here while we negotiate. Also your insight for the talks will be invaluable."
Rowen gives a curt nod and bounds out of the room in a confident and casual lope. The wolf that appears in the courtyard moves quickly but purposefully, without panic, to find Martin to relay the message.
"We have Chew unconscious inside. There is another wolfman. Jerod would like you to stop so that they can return to their man form and parlay."
Martin and Cordelia, mostly Cordelia, are settling the monks. Someone produced some rope from somewhere so Cordelia could tie them up, which she's doing.
Whatever Martin's doing, he stops it. His face relaxes as he releases his concentration and he nods, once. "We have things under control out here. None of the monks are stupid enough to mess with us."
Message delivered, Rowen casts a glance at the monks and finding nothing particularly interesting about them, lopes back to the building across the courtyard.
Vere nods to the white wolf as he steps to Jerod's side and takes charge of Chew. He quickly assesses Chew's injuries and chance of regaining consciousness anytime soon before he binds the man's hands behind his back and ties a cloth around his mouth and eyes. He remains aware of the actions of the white wolf at all times without giving the appearance of observing it.
Chew has a bleeding head wound, but it's superficial. Vere has no trouble binding his injuries as well as his eyes and his hands. Chew will be out for a while -- maybe another glass? -- but shouldn't have any trouble recovering.
Once Rowen has gone outside and spoken to Martin, and Martin has spoken to her, the white wolf rises up again. This time, her form melts into that of a tall, slender woman with slightly tanned beige skin and dark hair. Jerod, who has spent enough time in Hamakaido to know what the phenotypes from the shadow are, doesn't read her as a Hamakaido native, though her white robe might be of the right style, or something very similar.
"Prince of Amber, I greet you and your companions. You may call me Kim. Let us discuss what is to become of the monk Chew and how we may discover what he has done to our kin." She bows in a style that Jerod reads as, again, similar but not identical to that he would expect to see from a native of Hamakaido. It is respectful, but a bow that he would expect from an equal or one who was only slightly inferior in rank. Whoever Kim is, she is a power in her own right, or so she thinks.
Jerod sifts elements in the back of his mind, taking in the appearance and mannerisms of Kim, noting the difference from Hamakaido and considering the probability of a close shadow variance. He is also cognizant of the power of Family and the natural tendency to draw other family, relatives and associates to them like a gravity well. That this person came pursuing Chew for her offspring is another of those interesting family coincidences that tend to turn out not to be.
His expression shows none of this however as he smiles politely, bowing politely in a response as befits a Prince of Amber. "I am Prince Jerod, son of Prince Eric of Amber. My cousin, Prince Vere, son of Prince Gerard. You are well-met Kim.
"As for Chew, his crimes against us are considerable, far too many to recount at this point in time. Were it my choice his head would have been separated from his body once I had entered this room. But the good of Family requires that vengeance be stayed this day until those who are missing can be recovered. Once we have found our missing family, the King will I am sure pronounce judgment against him and those parties with interest would find him most amenable to their desires for justice. Though I suspect you will find several in the same position as you are unfortunately with equally competing claims.
"We have been able to recover a few of our missing children of late. It was that event that led us in pursuit of him to this place. Perhaps you can tell us of your own loss and the one you seek. We have gathered information from his subordinates and it may give us a lead that would be of assistance to you."
A shadow passes across the door, forming the silhouette of a wolf. Slowing to a walk upon reaching the threshold, Rowen pads into the room. Hanging by the door, she opts to flop onto the floor to listen in.
Vere looks up from his ministrations to Chew and nods a more formal greeting to Kim when Jerod introduces him. His eyes narrow thoughtfully as he regards her.
"Kimiko-dono of Hikariguni?" he asks.
Kim turns her attention to Vere, frowning slightly, but in a way that Vere reads more as thoughtful than unhappy. "That is one of my names. What do you know of Hikariguni, Prince Vere?"
"Only what I learned from a delightful day of conversation with Misao." Her bows once more, a deeper and even more formal bow than the nod he had previously bestowed. "I am happy to tell you that Misao was among those we very recently rescued from Chew, and that they are well and were very recently the guest of King Corwin of Paris, and were becoming acquainted with their father's family."
Though not intrusive, the red wolf that lays by the door might appear abnormally attentive, ears flicking toward the various speakers.
"That is an enormous relief," Kim says. "I am grateful for the news," she adds, bowing to Vere, which Jerod again reads this as a bow to an equal. "I do not know Paris, though I have heard of Corwin, Prince of Amber. That is not all the information I seek from Chew, so I would like to question him further."
Kim turns her attention to Rowen's wolf form. "May I be introduced to your colleague?" she asks.
Vere turns and bows slightly to Jerod, his actions designed to make it clear to Kim that Jerod is the leader of their group.
Jerod nods, turning to Rowen, motioning for her to rise up to her human form.
"Rowen of the Weirmonken." Jerod says simply.
The reverse of the transformation process is not unsimilar to Kim's, coming up to four feet first. The fur diminishes as her legs lengthen and bring her up to two feet. Where the red hair retreats toward her head, her legs become more human, quickly covered by dark green and brown garb. Gone is the dress and in its place is something more rugged and suitable for travel. And seemingly tailored. She nods at Kim and then to Jerod, when the change is complete. "Prince Martin suspects Cambina to be my full sister," she adds, for his benefit.
Jerod's expression narrows slightly but not as much as one might expect from such a bombshell, no doubt due to years of Court training. Vere though would recognize the elements of surprise in his posture, or perhaps lack thereof.
Jerod nods once, his suspicions about her background as family confirmed...just not in the direction he would have considered. He smiles as he turns slightly to Kim. "My apologies but I must amend my previous comments. Allow me to introduce Rowen of the Weirmonken and my new sister, which makes her the daughter of Prince Eric and a member of the House of Oberon."
He turns back to Rowen. "Welcome to the Family. We have a lot to talk about... later."
Looking at Kim he says, "Since we have ascertained that Misao-san is safe from the grasp of Chew and is with our Family, perhaps we can arrange a reunion? His Majesty King Random will be pleased at Chew's capture but will desire him in secure custody where we can obtain information on any missing family members of our own. And your questions will I think be more effective with Chew in a more controlled environment."
"I would be willing to go to Amber with you to discuss my claim to his life," Kim answers. "I am prepared to leave as soon as you are ready." She observes the currents among the other group silently.
Outside, Martin and Cordelia have secured the courtyard and all the monks.
"Excellent." Jerod says, turning slight then to Vere and Rowen. "Let's get back to his majesty, put this annoyance behind us shall we... so we can find another one to occupy our time."
And with that he heads out, knowing the others will follow of their own accord. He does not rush but his stride is such that he is just slightly ahead when he gets back to Martin and company, enough to say a few words before introductions are required.
He looks at Martin for a second, a mixed look of being both pleased and amused. "Sister?" he says, smiling slightly before continuing.
Martin nods, once.
"Kim, this is Prince Martin, son of his majesty King Random of Xanadu," he says, his court mode taking over. It will not be difficult for her to figure out the friendship dynamic here, or that Jerod treats Martin as his superior even when they are friends.
"Your highness, may I present Kimiko-dono of Hikariguni, mother of Misao. She came looking for her missing offspring and to lay claim to Chew for his actions against her. She wishes to petition for Chew's life as well as reunite with Misao. I advised that in everyone's best interests that the questioning of Chew on his activities would be the higher priority and that punishment be reserved for the future, once we know the full extent of his activities."
Martin gives Kim a Hamakaido-style bow. "A pleasure, Madam. I'm sure we all have much to discuss and much to learn from Dr Chew before he gets his well-deserved sentence for his crimes."
And with that, Jerod moves slightly to the side so that Martin takes precedence as clear leader.
Vere follows them silently, his attention returning to Chew now that potential hostilities have been averted. He makes certain the man shows no signs of either recovering or dying in the immediate future, and if possible while walking and carrying him will do a quick search of his garments and possessions for any possible magical or technological artifacts.
Vere finds a variety of items that could be used for sorcery, to contain or direct power, such as gems, a sharp knife, a dull knife, a cup, a wand, and so on. There are no "advanced" technological items that Vere can find trivially, but such things may not work in the Shadow where they are right now. He has no trouble gathering the sorcerous implements up and bagging them, as it were, as either evidence or for use in his own sorcery.
Rowen respectfully lets everyone walk out of the building first, before slipping in behind them to leave. Ostensibly, at least. Now that things have settled down, her curiosity has her taking the longer circuitous route to inspect what's left of the battle-torn place for anything of interest. Never straying too far from earshot, she catches up if they get too far ahead.
There's so much for Rowen to smell! The grass, the fresh air of this Shadow, the wood and stone of the monastery. The monks reek of fear-stink and not just of her, but of the very interesting-smelling Cordelia. Cordelia is different to the rest of the Amberites and also the monks; she smells of blood and dirt in addition to her personal scent.
"Jerod, you and Cordelia and Rowen should take the lady Kim and Dr. Chew back directly to Xanadu on Dad's card. You can borrow mine if you need it. Vere, I'm going to need a hand getting this crowd," and here Martin gestures at the monks, "back to Amber, where we have appropriate prison facilities. Also I need someone to make sure they're not sorcerers. We'll head back from there."
Vere nods his agreement to Martin's order and holds up the bag of confiscated goods. "Should these go with Jerod to Xanadu for investigation and study?" he asks.
Jerod also nods to Martin as he pulls out his deck, shuffling out Random's card (which is pretty much top of the deck anyway) while Vere speaks. Since he does not know the contents of the bag that Vere has acquired, he would wait to hear Martin's response before offering any response (his comment would be likely to wonder if sorcerous study is viable in a Pattern dominated environment like Xanadu).
"Yes please," says Martin. The formality is unusual; were they on their own, both Jerod and Vere know he would have answered more causally.
Once that is handled though, he motions Kim, Cordelia and Rowen over to one side away from the others and if possible out of sight from the monks, with Rowen taking charge of Chew from Vere, before opening up a call.
Rowen comes up alongside Vere and scoops Chew up and across her shoulders, being mindful to keep the bleeding parts away from her clothing. Once he's settled, she takes the baggie of belongings, too. "It was nice meeting you, however briefly, and I hope to talk with you more later," she says to Vere.
"Uncle, it's Jerod." and assuming the call is accepted, he will continue. "We come bearing early birthday gifts. We have Chew here to bring through, plus new family and Misao's mother looking for her wayward offspring."
Random is hanging upside down, from ... something. "Well, best bring them all here. But Misao took the pattern outta here, so that's not going to make anyone happy. Unless she left a trump, we're just assuming she'll show back up.
"Let me become properly oriented." The perspective spins dizzyingly, and Random's hair ... doesn't really settle, it's still spiky, but it's affected by gravity in the way of people who aren't dangling.
"Bring in the first Mrs. Lucas, and please don't forget to introduce us. And make sure I know which one is Chew."
And assuming no issues, Jerod will pass people through, starting with Rowen and the potato sack that is Chew, then Cordelia and then Kim.
Rowen and her potatoes stand ready to be passed through, though not without a little visible anticipation like someone about to do something novel for the third time.
The handing through goes easily for the Rowen and Cordelia.
"Welcome back Rowen, dump the monk on the ugly carpet over there.
"Hello, Miss," he says to Cordelia, "please stand a bit aside."
When it comes to Kimiko, Random starts to laugh and can barely keep the trump contact. Eventually he catches his breath and holds out his hand. "Hello, Kim. Do you want me to call him after I bring you through?"
Kimiko takes Random's hand. "That will not be necessary, Your Majesty. I am here to find my youngest child."
Random shrugs. "Welcome to Xanadu, then."
If Jerod doesn't have anyone else to pass through, he brings him across as well, and the connection closes.
Last modified: 3 June 2023