"Welcome to Rebma," Llewella says to Brita and Ossian. "You have the freedom of the city, as long as you do not leave without my permission and you do not aid our enemies." She is speaking loudly and it is clear that the two are not her only audience.
"We thank you, and are grateful, my lady." Ossian surveys the city. How like Amber is it?
Brita curtsies to her aunt, "Thank you, Your Highness," she intones. She sends an arch glance at any guards that still linger and turns to Ossian. "Shall we begin our exploration?" she offers with a wave of her arm inward from the wall. Are there any currents in the city?
There are currents in the city, but they're like winds in Amber. They blow the smell of the markets around but they don't move things. There are fish that swim like birds.
It's like an Amber Ossian saw for a day--the Amber he came to before the pattern died in it was like this, both in geography and in grandeur. The burned-out and collapsed places are here as they were before.
It will not be until they get away from Llewella and the army that they'll be able to tell that the citizens here are almost completely panic-stricken about the approaching army.
The two can see from here that one section of the city seems to be walled up and guarded.
Ossian is curious about the walled part. What part of Amber would be in it? (I guess it's not the palace?) Do the guards guard it against intruders or are they keeping something inside?
"What do you think about that, my lady?" he asks Brita, pointing at the walled-in area. trying to remember what Conner and others told him about the city. [For example: Where are the triton quarters?]
"A city under imminent attack protecting something internal to the city," Brita shakes her head, "An odd affair. We were given the freedom of the city. I wonder if it extends there." Brita would like to get close enough to smell the scents around the walled area.
Brita thinks, from the pattern of the guarding, that they are protecting against something internal to the city. By some coincidence, what they're guarding is about where Conner described the Tritons as living. It's nearly the lowest point in the city, and in Amber would be near the temple quarter, or perhaps it would be that. The buildings are all very similar to their Amber counterparts, but that was a quarter that neither Brita nor Ossian spent much time in.
[I'll assume you mean "Brita starts to move towards the walled area."]
"Citizens! Please halt. This area is off-limits, by order of the Protector."
Brita nods regally and prepares to move past the area. Her intent is to scent any currents swirling from within the walled area (can they swim higher than the wall to get those currents but not close enough to bother the guards?).
Yes, they could, although the guards do look up as well. It's not clear, when you get close, which side is being protected. It was made to look as if it were this side from that, but there are signs that the people inside are being [watched].
"The Protector?" Ossian whispers. "Any idea of who that is?"
"Could be our Aunt?" Brita whispers back. She's trolling for scents of chaos in the surrounding water...
"Let's hope."
Rebma is, like Amber, a city that is home to a million people. There is plenty of fear, and hope, and worry. There is something that is akin to chaos, but it's unclear what it is. It's not like Dara at all. It's more like Daeon.
"What do you sense?" Ossian asks.
"A Memory, recently Buried," Brita says distractedly as she draws in more of the mysterious trickle of scent. [Are you saying it smells like Green?] "A Scent I would Associate with Green Arden before Blue Rebma."
[Yes, but it's subtle. Like a retired Ranger living in Amber smells more of Green.]
Ossian's mind wanders for a few seconds into the various blue and green nuances of the two places.
[Can she track the scent at all, catch hold if it and follow it back? If it appears to lead back to the wall, she will assume Lady Dafne and approach a guard, all smiles and placating waiving of hands with the 'we're a little lost in this Fine City. Where are we now? Is this not Palace Grounds with this high wall and outstanding guard? Can you direct me to the best housing?' tact. If she can determine who the Protector is for Ossian, even better.]
Ossian catches on quickly and is all smiles. He can add a question about the best lighting in the city, if that is needed.
It's difficult for Brita to track scents underwater; they linger differently. The first thing that is clear to her is that the scent is everywhere, the second is that it is strongest nearest the wall.
The guards are alert, until [Brita and Ossian] approach closely. The senior guard pulls a piece of leather with some scratchings on it from his pouch and waves his men to stand down.
"Ah, my Lady, you are lost. This is downtown. The castle is, naturally, up." He points to the very distinct castle, two thirds of the way up a very familiar looking mountain.
The protector is the the Princess Llewella, who is daughter to the late Queen Moins. When asked about either better lighting or better housing, the answer is "up". A quick glance at the mountainside suggests that this is reasonable and true.
"Up it is, then!" Ossian says with a grin. When they are out of hearing range for the guards Ossian adds. "Which makes sense. It is one thing to have Dara loose in the city. Quite another to have her loose in the palace."
Brita nods in response, still pensive over the Green accents she is scenting. "I would still Like to take a Meandering Route to the Above Palace," she notes to Ossian. "It won't Rule Out Dara's presence in the City; there are Too Many. But it May give me a Sense of Mirror Rembma's Scents to Rule Out of the Palace." Assuming acquiescence, Brita would make her way at a stately pace through the city lanes towards the palace. She wants to get a good feel for the aroma of this underwater world. She plays subtly with the minor currents to bring scents to her as they pass groups or interesting establishments.
Ossian keeps up his part of the charade by very obviously checking out angles and lighting (measuring with his hands et.c.), as if choosing which parts of the city to paint. This of course leaves him plenty of opportunity to observe the city.
The city is under siege and looks it. Merchants and markets are closed and shelves empty, perhaps in anticipation of riots or looting. Other than Ossian and Brita, the few people who travel are doing so with purpose and dispatch.
The walk to the castle is approximately a quarter of a ship's watch (an hour or so) and the city is most reminiscent of Amber before the sundering.
There's some of that smell everywhere, but not like it was by the guarded gate.
As they begin the assent up to the Palace, Brita scans the area. There is no one near as she says, "The Green is Focused Beyond the Guarded Gate and I Sense no Smells of Chaos floating Near us. If Dara is in Mirror Rebma, she is Well Hidden. We can Continue to the Above Palace to see if I can Scent her There or we can Explore Beyond the Gate."
"I think we should go above the palace. We know what place Dara would want to go to. "
Brita nods almost curtly. "To the Palace it Is," she says and her strokes, while still the stately glide of Lady Dafne, are more direct to their goal.
The road to the palace is busier, in that there is some traffic along it. Messengers to and from the castle, all in military garb, swim or walk along the roadsides. The road is, like the corresponding Amber road, a set of switchbacks. In Rebma, it is apparently the custom for those in a hurry to swim a more direct route, especially when going down.
The castle, a monolithic edifice of defence, sits between them and the upper ranges of the Kolvir equivalent. It's magnificent, ancient, powerful, and squarely in the way.
Lady Dafne uses the shorter route because...well, just because. It is obviously more efficient and, when in Rebma, why not swim? As they near the castle, Brita notes to Ossian, "Shall we Ascend to Descend again Inside or Explore the Castle Itself?"
"I doubt they allow much exploration of the castle." Ossian says gloomily, before shining up. "Would Lady Daphne be presumptuous enough to ask for a guided tour?"
"Of course!" Brita responds with a wide grin. Assuming they get up to the Palace, Lady Daphne will do just that after which she will command a room to repair to in order to 'freshen up'. [whatever that entails, thinks Brita. ;)]
The castle gates loom large and the water swirls around. The city is pregnant with expectation and the guards are clearly aware of the approaching pair. It may remind Ossian of his first arrival at Castle Amber some years ago, in a city also on the verge of war.
"Who goes there?" comes the challenge from the parapets.
Brita says, "We are the Lady Bria and her Artiste, recently come to the city from King Corwin in Paris. We have been given leave by the Princess Llewella to tour Fair Rebma under her protection. I wish to speak with the Chatelaine of the Palace to seek our rooms before we commence our tour."
Ossian looks at the guards, but stays quiet.
A man appears at the top of the parapets. "The castle is under military jurisdiction for the duration. Do you have a reason for coming here related to the war?"
Brita catches a scent on the waves. It smells of family, but it's somewhat distant. Perhaps Llewella has rushed back.
Brita cannot help the arch of an eyebrow as she drifts for a moment or two below the men on the wall. She is able to clamp down on her desire to roll her eyes at Ossian.
"Why, yes, we Do have a reason for coming here," Lady Dafne says crisply, her tone sounding just a little chiding. Instead of expounding on the subject she asks, "And you are?" her arms crossed imperiously across her chest.
In her mind, Brita is running through a little conversation while she waits
for an answer:
'Excuse me, sir, but are you on a secret mission?'
'Why, yes, I am on a secret mission! Thank you for asking!'
'Is it going well?'
'Actually, no, I just can't seem to keep it secret!'
Her eyes may be flashing her annoyance as she stares up at the newcomer.
The man is not her equal is haughtiness, but he seems to have practiced for years. "I am Scipio Coralaneus, Master of the Guard of Castle Rebma and in the absence of the Queen or the Princess Royal, I am in charge. Who are you and what business have you with this fortress?"
Ossian says: "We came here for the soft blue light. We had no intentions of stepping into a war zone. But now we are here."
Ossian's input allows Brita to take enough breaths to not snap the guards head off. She takes one more before Lady Dafne adds, "The Princess Llewella herself has acknowledged our freedom of the city in front of your guards at the City entrance and her intent was to have us stay at the Palace. If she has not returned to the Palace before us, perhaps you can send a guard to ask her about our rooms. I'm sure she won't Mind the Interruption and we Can Wait Here..." Brita clamps down on the Voice of her Asgard Heritage before her anger gets the better (or worse) of her.
"Open the gates" he says to someone. The gates lift with dispatch. The man who spoke from the top of the gate meets them in the barbican. "Come with me, please," he says.
[Assuming they enter the castle with Scipio...]
Wow. Thinks Brita. It worked.
Brita and Ossian are led to a very large ante-room which has in it one occupant. The room in Castle Amber is a portrait gallery and serves the same function here. It is several stories tall, but the most impressive thing in the room is who is in it. Or what.
From his waist up, he's a brawny giant of a man. From his waist down, he looks to be a fish or eel. At a guess, he may be twenty feet long.
"I have been informed of your coming. My name is Atrios, and I have served your family loyally several centuries. We did not expect you at the castle at this time."
[I assume he smells like the Green-ish scent near the guarded section of the city? Did Brita get any more direction on the Family scent on the way in?]
[He does. She didn't.]
Brita drops Lady Dafne and nods curtly. Her stance is as military as she can get in a diaphanous gown while floating. "King Random and King Corwin as well as the Princess Llewella are Concerned that our Chaos Kin Dara may be Scenting about Palace Rebma in an Attempt to Attack those of Royal Blood or Gain Access to Power in Rebma. My Cousin," Brita nods at Ossian, "and I were Sent to Determine if Dara is Present. Finding no Obvious Trail of her in the City Rebma, we have Come to the Palace. There Is a Possible Trail Here. We Had Wished to Maintain our Guise so as to Not Alert any possible Spies of our Identities - Hiding in Plain Sight," Brita notes without glancing to the side at Scipio, "But if that is Not Possible, we can Go On as our True Selves. To Seek Dara, I need Only a Tour of the Palace." She ends confidently.
Ossians mind is already occupied with other things, like how to paint Trumps under water. Mosaic? He recomposures himself. "It is very possible Dara is allied with the army that is coming here." he adds.
The triton does not seem alarmed. "I will take them, Commander, Thank you."
The soldier nods once, turns, and departs.
"Where shall we start?"
"The basement" Ossian says.
Brita nods in agreement, eager now for the search.
Atrios nods, his tail slowly undulating. "I can take you down to the door, but it is, as Prince Martin determined long ago, unsuited for my kind to pass."
Atrios leads them to a door which leads to a stairway. The similarities to Amber's castle are beyond uncanny, although ephemera are different. A frame that houses a picture of Corwin above may enclose a picture of Rilsa here, but the frame looks identical.
"Do you know your way from the foot of the stair?"
Brita glances at Ossian but says to Atrios, "Of Course. We will Return Here when we are Done."
"Return to the main hall. I have other duties I must perform."
The stairs down are lit by the odd Rebman globes of glowing flame. They lead down quite a long way.
This must be what the stairway looked like in Amber, before it collapsed.
Ossian smiles, nods, and starts swimming down the stairs.
Swimming down the stairs is easier than walking.
When he is out of hearing range of Atrios he whispers to Brita "This is suspicious. Why are we let in this easily?"
Assuming Brita smells nothing different at this point, she responds to Ossian's question with several of her own. "Could Dara have Gotten In this Far? Could She be this Fishman and Need our Lead to Direct her?" Brita follows Ossian down but slowly. "Could she Need our Blood for her Plans Here?"
"Wouldn't you have been able to smell her? No, I'm more worried about the Rebmans right now. Even though we are under Llewella's protection, I did expect more of a fuss. Are they so afraid of Huon that they take our help without questions?"
"Or they are Willing to Keep Us Busy and Away from Something Else," Brita says quietly. She continues to swim quietly for a while. As they near the guard room, Brita will state, "We will Stick to the Course of Exploring from the Basement Upward. Perhaps we will Net a Slippery Eel or Two or perhaps not."
The guard room is brightly lit and has a single guard in it.
Ossian nods and enters the guard room.
Brita follows and moves purposely towards the door with barely a glance at the guard.
The guard looks up as [they] enter. "Excuse me, are you supposed to be here?"
He looks to Brita exactly like the mummifying guard under the stairs in Amber. Except alive. And wet.
Brita takes a military stance (arms behind, feet spread) and says, "Yes. We are to Search for Insurgents Beyond the Door. The Loyal Astrios has News that They have Means of Entering the Palace Beyond the Obvious." [Can I get a description of the room layout?]
[A small room, more of a wide, shallow niche in the hallway, the guardroom is furnished in stark utilitarian mode. It has a crude table, a chair, and an open rack of shelves, On the shelves are glowing light globes. There's a big peg behind the door, but no key hanging from it here.]
Ossian quickly imitates Brita's stance, but keeps quiet. Let the guard think Brita is in command.
He looks dubious and picks up a slateboard, staring at the blank face as if it should be not-as-blank. "I don't have anyone on the list for today. Who are you?"
He certainly looked like a good soldier until he opened his mouth.
Brita trots out her best authoritative Goddess voice - "We Are." She points to Ossian, "Nephew" and then to herself "and Niece of Her Royal Highness Princess Llewella." She then holds out her hand imperiously for the slate. Assuming she is handed the slate, she then holds out her hand behind her to Ossian, waiting for an appropriate implement for inscription.
Ossian silently provides Brita with what she needs.
The slate is completely blank.
Brita quickly writes 'Lord Ossian - Nephew of Princess Llewella' followed by 'Lady Brita - Niece of Princess Llewella' on the slate in a formal calligraphy using the slate pencil provided by Ossian. She finishes with a flourish and presents the slate back to the guard. "There." She says. "Now We are Formally Registered. Shall You Escort us Forward?"
"Ahh. I have to stay here to guard. You may pass," he says, looking at the slate. "My Lord and Lady," he adds. The door across the way is not something he could easily have stopped Brita and Ossian from entering in any case. The floor is set stone, but it looks as if it's sandy further down the corridor.
Always good to be official with less than stellar guards. Brita gives the guard a curt nod of thanks and she and Ossian proceed down the corridor.
The corridor turns from well-dressed stones to rough-hewn stones to natural cavern in moments, and the caves match those beneath Amber, except they're full of water. There's a faint odor as of a relative coming from the left side of the passage.
Then that is the way they will travel. Brita alerts Ossian with a touch to the side of her nose that she senses someone. As they continue, her hand rests casually on the hilt of her dagger.
Ossian is suddenly alert. "What kind?" he whispers.
"Family." Brita mouths back.
The two painter/adventurers walk through the great water-filled cavern, keeping to the left wall. At each side passage, Brita checks for the scent of family. It is not until the fifth tunnel entrance that it becomes unclear where the scent comes from. Someone of the blood passed here, recently. He may have gone down this passageway or he may have been coming from here.
It's still two side-passageways until the side corridor that leads to the pattern.
Brita, who still has the slate pencil, makes a small squiggle on the wall that looks vaguely like a question mark. She continues down the tunnel towards the next side passage, searching for the elusive scent.
Ossian stays in Brita's wake, to disturb the scent-carring water as little as possible.
The scent ends at a familiar door, behind which should be a pattern. It is locked.
Brita glances at Ossian with a slight shrug then begins to look for the key; first check is along the door frame.
Ossian presses his ear to the door. (and if it makes sense uses all his Pattern sensibility to find out if anything is moving in that chamber)
Ossian whispers "If we can find a key here, I would be interested to know who of the Rebmans was non-paranoid enough to place it here." He smiles grimly.
Are there any signs of someone having tried to break in lately?
There is no key and no signs, other than Brita's olfactory clues, that anyone has been in here for some time. The door would show few such, since it is strong and old and looks as if it has stood where it is for centuries.
Brita thinks the smell was stronger in the other direction.
"Well, Cousin, should we Continue In or Follow the Trail where it Leads?" she points back towards the other hallway.
"Given the potential politcal backfires of breaking into the Pattern Chamber, I say follow." Ossian says.
Brita nods her concurrence and heads back down to and into the side tunnel they marked earlier, searching for the scent and any distinguishing details of it...
The smell is much stronger down the other corridor, as if the source was either close or had been here for some time. The corridor ends in a set of crossed bars, perhaps a foot thick and too narrowly spaced to fit between. On the far side of it, Brita sees a figure and smells a new smell. Tobacco requires magic to work in Rebma, but it can be done.
He walks towards the bars, and stops a few feet from them. "I didn't expect anyone to come down here," he says.
Ossian feels the familiar, insistent push of the start of a trump contact.
"Oh damn. " he says, but opens his mind.
"Yes?"
He tries to keep an eye on the man behind the bars as well.
"Yes," mimics Brita without looking at Ossian. "We May be Lost. Who are You?" She cocks her head to one side in query. She lifts one hand and waves it through the water once in front of her face as if wafting away a smell. As her hand moves, however, she calls a small rivulet of water forth from beyond the bars to join the current past her nose.
It's really, really hard to do sorcery near a pattern. It's also exhausting and results are minor. Brita thinks she's just done about all she can.
[Brita did that as a natural action as Goddess of Clear Water - she didn't think about it; the difficulty surprises her a little, but she shrugs it off]
[Is his scent different than that of Family or too masked by the Tobacco to tell?
He smells of Family, specifically "Family who smokes to much."
Also, Monica is not quite clear on the description - is he caged? i.e., does his side of the bars end as a small room or a continuation of the corridor?
It looks like the corridor continues, and water currents suggest that that is the case.
Are the bars formed into a doorway of any kind or just a grate to block the way?]
It's a grate, like someone didn't want people to pass here, but was fine with light and water. If it can be moved, it's not by any obvious mechanism.
"I am Huon of the Horn, son of Oberon. These caves are dangerous to the initiated and usually fatal to the stranger. They also play with time. Tell me, who is Queen above us?"
Brita bows slightly to her uncle and says, "I am Lady Brita out of the Kingdom Paris. We have only Just Arrived in Watery Rebma and I Know Not the State of Affairs above, although They are Preparing For Battle. We were Sent Down to Search out a Door, but we have Not Found the Way Yet. What Lies that way?" and she gestures down his side of the corridor.
"And I am Ossian, painter and singer." Ossian says, bowing. "It would be troublesome if we were lost in time as well as space here."
"Paris is a myth, or you are far more time-lost than I imagined." He takes a drag on his cigarette. "If you were from this time, I would wonder about your Paris, of course, and who Carolus was allied with. If you were with the Queen and her allies from my family, you would not need to find the way to the Door, you would be shown it or know it from the parallel structure.
"So, does Paris indeed ally with the Fish-men against the lawful ruler of the city?"
Brita glances at Ossian in supposed surprise and says, "Our Paris was Quite Real when we Left a day or so ago. I Know Not this Carolus you mention and am not Aware of the True Allegiance of the King of Paris. We Were not Led to the Chosen Door as All Above are busy Searching for Our Chaotic Enemies."
Ossian smiles "As far as we know, Paris is not allied with any fish-men."
"So who are you allied with then?"
"I? I am allied with none but myself. Ours is a time of peace." He smokes the end of his cigarette and drops the butt, which floats gently to the floor.
Huon steps onto the butt and grinds it into the sand beneath his boot. "Carolus is probably a Tharization of his real name. Karel, Charlemagne, Tchole, or some such, I'd expect. He looks at the two of them. "If we are from such wildly different times, we can do no more than exchange information. Tell me of your time, which is my distant past. Are there other great Kingdoms besides Paris, Rebma, and Amber?"
Brita cocks her head to one side as she watches him drop the cigarette, a slight frown of distaste on her features. She responds with other questions to his first words, "What is This Peaceful Time of Yours, and How do We Achieve it? Great Kingdoms we Have, but also Great Enemies. Did Another come This Way Recently, Sage Huon? One who might Bear Blood of Amber's Kingdom?"
"As it happens, Yes. My brother is walking the pattern at this very moment."
Brita looks shocked and reaches out to grasp Ossian's arm, "Your Brother Walks the Pattern of Rebma? But We had Heard..." She cuts off suddenly. "You Know of my Mentor, Master Reid." Brita notes as she sidesteps her earlier thought.
He doesn't show any signs of recognizing the name.
Ossian does not step away from Brita's grasp.
Ossian cocks his head to and says "A vital question for the peace of our time is: which brother?"
Huon shakes his head. "He's too young for you to have heard of him from your mythological Parisian age. Pinabello is my half-brother, actually. I am also his uncle, as his father is my brother. Our mother was intoxicated by Amber."
"If he is walking, then why are you not watching? According to our tradition Amber family members do witness other's walking the Pattern?"
Brita retains her grasp on Ossian's arm, so those on the other end can hear her muse, "Your Brother-Nephew Pinabello, how Old is He and How Prepared?" [Does she recognize the name at all?]
Huon snorts. "Bello is older than I was and he is as prepared as any of us ever are, which is to say, he is utterly convinced that he is ready and is being held back for spite or to advantage me. And I haven't heard of any such tradition, it seems to have died out since you were alive."
"How far into the future have we travelled?" Ossian asks "Who is king in Amber?"
Brita remains silent to hear the answer.
Huon looks slightly puzzled by the question. "Oberon hasn't fallen to any of his children's schemes, if that's what you're asking, although I cannot imagine a future so far away that that he was not true. In my day, we count epochs by the name of the queen of Amber. Who is your queen?"
"Queen Vialle." Ossian says.
Huon looks puzzled. "I haven't heard of her. If she follows Faella, I am afraid her reign may be brief. Has she given Oberon any children?"
"No," Brita notes, "She has Not." She pauses to glance at Ossian, her eyes somewhat wide as she dares, "So, You Do Not Force your Brother to Walk Unprepared and Alone? What if He Fails? King Oberon would likely Not be Pleased."
Huon laughs, a single short barking sound. "Father forbade him to walk it, just like he forbade me to walk it a decade ago. Pino will get banished, just like me, but he's the one who insisted."
"Did you hear that?" Ossian says turning to Brita "I think I heard our comrades singing. If we follow that, we could maybe find our way back to our time, my Lady!"
Brita nods although she is still looking at Huon, "Yes, I Hear. We must Go," she says to Huon. "Good Luck to Brave Pinabello and to You. May you find Your Way Back into Reality's Embrace.....Uncle." The last word is said very softly as she and Ossian back into the watery gloom towards the main corridor.
Huon looks on, and says something, but he can't be heard, even with the senses of children of Amber.
The odors of smoke and Huon lingers in the water, but are much less pronounced than before.
Ossian smiles and whispers to Brita. "Well, we certainly learned some useful things. Should we try to witness Pinabello's walk? Or have we already moved out of that time zone?"
"Greetings from Folly, by the way."
"Interesting, Yes," Brita is deep in thought but she reaches back out to lay a hand on Ossian's arm as they drift back down the corridor.
"Does Mirror Rebma have a Water Wisp of Cloudy Tir? Was That Real or Imagined? It would be Intriguing to Ask our Uncle Huon if he Remembers Us from Ages Past."
She pauses in her musings to add, "Greetings back to Cousin Folly, if you are still In Contact."
And then she thinks aloud, "How Would one Enter the Chamber Without a Key? Is that Wise?" as she turns back down the main corridor towards said chamber.
"Wise?" Ossian snorts "We can make peace to an age-old conflict here. Who cares about a frickin door?
"If we can break it, that is."
Brita gives a surprised guffaw, "I did not Mean Wise to Break the Rules, Cousin," she grins, "But Wise to Break In to a Mystical Room. I am All for Trying, although it is Possible our Entry could be the Catalyst for Uncle Pinabello's Failure."
"Well, we already know he will die. Does it matter if we are the cause?" Ossian seems alert.
"I Suppose." Brita doesn't sound overly convinced, but she shakes it off and says, "Onward, then, to See if Our Puny Comedy can Divert the Sister Fates." She moves quickly now with Ossian back down the corridor to The Door. She tries it again, just in case, and then draws on her Pattern to see if she can see into the lock to pick it.
The door swings freely.
Brita moves into the room, seeking the scents here as well as examining the differences of this watery pattern.
Ossian quickly follows. Is anyone walking?
The water in this chamber swirls madly. About 1/3 of the way through the pattern, there's a figure walking against the currents and the resistance. He's past the Grand Veil. He's heading straight for the great gap where the pattern is sundered.
Brita brings up the image of her Pattern in her mind, drawing strength from the sparkling swirls before her. She also draws on the memories of deepest winter in Jotunheim and, pushing her hand palm first through the water, projects out a small stream before her in the water in an attempt to make ice.
If it works, she will spread both arms wide, draw in, and then step forward as she pushes outward in as solid a wave as she can, aiming to bridge the gap before the walker with ice.
There is not much Ossian can do. He keeps a close watch on the door, and looks around to see if he can see anyone else in the chamber.
Other than that he enjoys the fireworks.
Pinobello struggles on through the pattern trudging step after trudging step. Finally he hits the ice patch, and no resistance. Ice and boots do what Ice and boots do and the lad slides across the gap, his arms flailing. "Oh Shi-" he says, before he falls and lands on the ice.
He looks through the sparks and sees that someone is near the door. "Huey! I fell! Help me!"
Ossian bellows in his best Huon impersonation: "Stand up and walk!"
Brita throws another blast of Pattern at the ice she has created, attempting to frill the top layer into the better traction of snow. "You Are Not Beaten Yet," she practically growls at the downed uncle, her Goddess Voice starting to lick at the edges of her words. "SHOW YOUR TRUE AMBER BLOOD AND MOVE!"
Pattern shouldn't work here, but somehow it does. It's not exactly what Brita expects, but it can be done. Without close examination, Brita thinks she's affected the ice. The sparks have died down to the low-level arcs that are always present. The room is noticeably darker.
The figure stands. He lifts a leg up towards the broken edge of the pattern, and hesitates. "It will kill me if I do and kill me if I don't." He seems quite calm. "It's waiting."
"Better to Dive In than be Washed Out, Uncle." Brita says. "There is No Going Back. With what Words would you Enlighten Your Brother for the Future as you Meet your Destiny?"
"You think we could swim there and Trump him out?" Ossian whispers.
"Would the Ghost Pattern or the True Pattern Draw us In? I do Not Know if the Rebma Pattern Considers the Water Above It to be Its Territory." Brita reaches out her senses to this Pattern, searching to see if there is a willingness to allow aid or not. Can she feel the waiting that Pinabello feels? "Still, it Would be Interesting to Try. Where would you Go? Is your Sketch of the Watery Mountain View Active or would you have to go Farther Afield? I can Attempt to Dry the Water to Protect a Trump or Sketch."
Brita cannot reach out her senses here. The Pattern is too close and too strong.
"You! You're not real! You're trying to make me make a mistake! As soon as I catch my breath, I'll just swim up and out of here and you'll vanish." He sits back on the ice.
"I Assure you, Uncle, We Two are Quite Real and We do Not Wish you to make the Fatal Mistake. But My Understanding of Pattern Work is Limited and I Believed you Must Keep Going. Is that Not the Case on the Patch I have Made with the Ice?" Brita tries to ascertain with her other senses, particularly her nose, if Pinabello is truly there.
All Brita can smell is the tobacco. If there's something else there, the mad swirling of the water prevents it from being located. It's hard to tell a trace of something from a trace of Ossian or Huon, if any such still linger.
"I'll use the Caine Trump" Ossian says quietly to Brita "And Dry Water would be nice. You'll have to decide if you want to stay here." With that Ossian swims two strokes upwards, and then towards Pinabello.
Ossian quickly knifes into the water and takes himself over the pattern. The water swirls above him and he is buffetted about, but can manage to swim through the turbulence. The pattern almost seems to hum from where he swims.
"What are you doing?" asks Pinabello. Ossian can hear him, but can't see him through the swirling water.
Brita follows Ossian once she has ascertained no issues arise with his approach over the pattern. She pushes the water as much as she can to be calmer on their path. She also attempts to aerate the water as she has done before to see if she can hold a region for the Trump. She'll use more energy towards the protection of the Trump than the protection of their path.
Ossian swims toward the sound of Pinabellos voice, careful to not get to close to the Pattern. "We are coming to help you.
"Since you are certain the Pattern will kill you, you'd better take this chance, uncle."
Pinobello looks up. "Uncle? But you are right. I would rather die trying than not." He holds his arms in the air.
Above the center of the pattern, a silvery waterspout begins spinning.
Brita glances at the waterspout and then turns back to Ossian. She focuses a concentrated effort to draw the water away from his hand, creating a small bubble of aeration around and anchored to Ossian's wrist. Once she has done what she can, her attention turns back to the waterspout. Now she begins singing is a soft flowing voice. Her words gently stream forth, calling for calm, Peace, and Aid; calling to the heart of the Pattern of Rebma, asking for understanding at this Crossroad of Time to guide the Path of the Children of the Blood along a New Path of Unity. She draws forth the image of the Origin in her Song, the One Pattern to which All are Tied. Free the Children of the Blood of Order from the Previous Path of Pain; Allow this Change to Prevent More Blood from Flowing on the Pattern of Life.
Nothing Brita sings or says affects the pattern now.
She has reached out to grasp the end of Ossian's tunic as she sings.
Ossian swims faster towards Pinabello, pulling Caine's Trump out of its case on the way. "When I take your hand, don't pull." Ossian says to Pinabello.
"The spout!" says Pinobello, over the roaring water. He is looking to the left at the ominous red-tinged water-spout spinning above the pattern.
(If he reaches Pinabello he will try to open the Trump contact.)
"Is this an emergency?" asks Prince Caine.
Ossian secures a hold of Pinabello's hand and trusts that Brita can hold on to him by herself. He answers Caine with an urgent voice. "Yes. Pull us through"
Brita keeps a firm grasp on Ossian while she continues to monitor the water-spout. Keeping her Pattern in her mind's eye, she focuses her efforts on using the water around her to shield.
Ossian reaches out with one hand to take Pinabello's and feels a strong, gloved hand lock onto his. The man is a fencer and would be near to breaking the wrist of someone not gifted with the heritage of Amber. Brita can smell his fear, and his eyes are on the rapidly growing red funnel that is approaching the spot where he stands on the ice.
Caine reaches out and grasps Ossian's other arm and pulls. The room he's in starts to become real, but only in waves and Ossian and Brita feel stretched, as if they aren't being brought through whole.
The room on the far side is flooding with salt water and Caine looks more like he's on deck in a storm than in his office. "Come through, damn you!", says the regent, his teeth gritted.
The room, once silver with the pattern's glow, is now a throbbing red.
Ossian focuses on the room where Caine is (is it the Regent's office?). He tries to visualise the room at the other end. Rather than fight the wavyness of the connection Ossian waits until the reality of the room is growing. Then he tries to will the three of them to the other side.
"Pull now," he says between gritted teeth, to both Caine and Pinabello.
Brita pulls her free hand towards her as if she is swimming and the ice under Pinabello's feet starts to grow. The cyclone touches it like iron-shod hooves on stone, raising sparks and glancing off.
Pinabello screams and leaps, pulling Ossian and Brita sideways towards the tiny maelstrom.
Ossian feels Caine pulling and things from his desk are beginning to come back into the pattern room and be swirled into the waterspout. Brita gets hit by a lamp, and just missed by a sheaf of papers which might have been covered with writing, once.
Caine slips on the floor, but doesn't lose his grip. His legs are wrapped around the table, which is sturdy. If it gets flung in here, it would be dangerous. "Help me," says the Regent of Amber, to someone.
Just when Ossian thinks something has to break; Pinobello, himself, Caine, or the table, Pinobello's hand slips out of his glove.
Brita growls in anger - at the unhelpful water, at Pinabello, at the Pattern; it is unclear. Her eyes blaze red - her Beserker an almost perfect reflection of the Pattern's anger pouring back out from her. She kicks downward and rotates, her grip on Ossian hauling him around above her. As she hits the edge of the ice with her feet, silver fire flares inside her. She focuses through Her Pattern to tilt the slab of ice up and away and towards the maelstrom, aiming to put it between Pinabello and the angry swirling water. As she kicks off of the slab back up towards Ossian, she swings her legs and free arm out in an attempt to snare Pinabello and swing him in towards the other Reality. Her movements are accompanied by a viciously growled reminder to the Rebman Pattern, "Blód af Ambervilja Brjóta Deg ef du Prjóskast Vid! Láta Hann Fara!!" *
[*sort of translates to 'Blood of Amber will Destroy you if you Persist! Let Him Go!' if I trust the translations on Icelandic/Norwedgian and the one Old Norse word I found]
Ossian desperately holds on to Caine's hand, and tries to grab any part of Pinabello he can find as Brita throws him around.
Brita catches Pinobello's arm and holds it tight. The red cyclone howls like a drillbit on metal and Brita drags him towards Ossian. Ossian pulls on Caine's hand and with a rainbow coruscating light, he comes through, dragging everyone with him and falling on top of Caine.
Last modified: 10 October 2008