Red Sword Calls-FB Posts

Doings at Thin Whip's

After a variety of escapades the scene evolves. Second Floor of Thin Whip's Place. in the Stick Shop area, we meet our heroes Bleys, Carisa and Nala, as they narrowly avoided being forced to brutally embarrass 5 notable members of CHAD. Custus, a reasonably high ranked Fighter, and his companions Vislar, the half-orc brute, and Grin, the Fighter thief, and Farsk, the half-human, half, something uncertain, and Emilis, the disgraced half elven fighter thief, have all all agreed to split a Tucker keg of dark ale, a couple pitchers of port, some lizard fries and a rack of rats and peppers.

Rats and peppers, it should be noted are actually strips of beef, marinated exotically and spicy, with, skewered with jalapeños and pineapple and grilled. Not actual rats on a stick, like one might find in Chaos. A rack is about 20 skewers.

Custus had invited Carissa to shoot some pool, while Nala watches and Bleys flirts with her.

Despite having introduced himself as Buddy Fish, even the dimmest of the CHAD warriors, for the record thats Farsk, are beginning to think they are having an evening with folks far above their pay grade.

From a corner Thin Whip seems t be overseeing the knife pits but his eyes keep glancing at the power trio, sensing opportunity ahead.

Carissa watches Nala for a moment to make sure she is ok. Finishes off her beer and pours herself another from the keg. She nods to

Custus, “I’ll play you. Have to show my new friend how it is done.” She says casually and calmly. He is clearly good at the game and their choice of recreational locations is clear quickly, he being the little groups leader. You get the impression that he chose to not mention bets or try the hustle, reasoning the 3 of are more then might be seen. He plays friendly, though his eyes do wander

After a time a trio of dice appear among the CHAD warriors and Bleys. Copper wings cross hands back and forth. Drinks flow. Laughter comes as the game at Thin Whips goes on.

Nala learns the rough points as Carissa and Custus play and trade games. In Time Thin Whip wanders by, looking over everything, a set of trumps ruffling thought his off hand, a drink in his other. Catching Carissa's eye he nods, "Care for a refill of the good stuff, Have that drink i mentioned? " Cari plays eagerly. Not surprisingly she is good. She continues drinking and will help Nala learn how to set up shots and the rules of the game. At the end of the last game when Thin Whip comes up, she nods. “I think my new friend could use a break. “. She winks and heads off with Jurt. Finding an unoccupied booth, that looks like it was torn from a Parisian whorehouse / restaurant in deep and well cleaned but stained red god brocade. He twiddle card on the chipped and scrawled table as efficient waitresses bring over a carafe of wine, clean glasses and large bowl of herbaceous mystery meat fried bites.

Michael James Watson Cari has travelled all over the world. As long as it’s not human she is not picky about meat as long as it’s well cooked. She accepts the food and nibbles. She hadn’t eaten during pool play, but now that it is leisure time. “So thank you for your hospitality,” she says looking him over carefully.
""I don't get up to the castle much these days but recently i noticed your card in my deck. I like to make my acquaintance to my kin as best I can. I doubt Ginger would have brought you here unless he expected me to drag you off at some point. His obligation to the crown for past sins is to watch over the cousins. While my own generation is further along then the grandchildren of Oberon I still am ranked in that kinship. You have an earth vibe, as so many of the Cousins seem to have. "

"Earth vibe?" she pauses, "Oh yes, Earth, that is indeed where I grew up. Yes, technological, non-magical, early space age. A gun age. I see the appeal of course, but i like my worlds a bit more frisky. "

"Corwin talks in his ego books as if he is the first Amberite to live in those. Frankly i don't see the appeal. Nu Yark is a far more entertaining collection of shadows with a lot more diversity. High levels of tech, frequent use of sorcery, nearly all the shadow magics. and manno...the rock wails.. stars and crashes and fire and rage...billions of people, hundreds of races, and little oversight...still, it is a bit too close to chaos for me. The last thing one needs is a disapproving lady of chaos dropping by while one is in the middle of a flying J, right? .Anyway... I didn't want to talk to you to encourage you to leave town...

She nods indicating he should continue. Inwardly, she thinks those shadows sound much more her style.

"What i did want to encourage is an open mind once the righteous prigs among the elders start harping on you about the dangers of Chaos, and the wicked foesman of their own blood. Such as me. My brother Despil is the Ambassador to Amber and as such is as much a politically correct nanny as any of them. But there are others. Despite our birthplace there are things about this end of shadow that are much more entertaining, even safer. Life is cheep in Chaos and royal blood is little defense. Here at least one isn't executed without due process and some kind of explanation.

"So, i am eager to put myself in the good graces of any Amberite i might. Some, well, its easy to see will be less likely to be open minded: Military types, fanatics of Ambers. Those that carry ancient grudges that they had no involvement in. Those kind look down their noses at hedonists like me. "

All the while he's been running his hands through card riffs. You notice that he seems to fidget all the time, even in small ways, and is always in movement. Drinking sips of wine almost as breaths. Lastly he flips a card out and it glides expertly in front of you. It has his image.

"Thats my card. So you know, its a logrus trump. One need not be a initiate of the Logrus to use it, nor to transport across it."

flipping another next to it. It looks like a ice cream truck. "Thats Houser. A companion of mine. He has everything in his truck. Ice Cream, burritos, shot glasses, fine wines, good gin, assault weapons, cutting lasers. grenades, translation books, medical supplies, orc salves, nearly everything. If you need something quick, give him a call. He may be able to help."

Flipping a third cards, it has an image of a drinking armored bear. "And should you want a little muscle. To open doors, move cars, clear away hordes of orcs, This is Doveryat. He is very friendly, jovial even, and has an incredible capacity for honeymead. Just don't call him Pooh, its a sore point. He can rage through groups of foeman like few others. He is willing and able. "

Tucking the four cards together, flipping them around.

"Take those with my compliments. The only string on them is that someday someone might ask your opinion of me. In that unlikely occasion id like to have you think of me in a friendly manner and to have done a tiny service. You may think yourself of little matter in the powers of the universe, the battles between Law and Chaos, but we of the blood, regardless, are creatures of potential. "

He chuckles as he sees Bleys stand and eye the two of you.

"Ginger is about 30 seconds from coming over. One last thing. You've been seen in oracles of Chaos. You and your male companion. And Arloxedra, the dull stick, of all people. The three of you are connected in some work in the future. Should you need my blade or my spells, do not hesitate to call. I have a lot of karmic debt to work off and standing to battle with prophesied amberites would do me well. Don't let Bleys take those away from you. He'll try "

Standing, full glass in hand, he turns and walks to a group about to fight and quells ill humors then fades from view in the crowds of Thin Whip's Place.

She slides the card towards her and looks each over carefully. “We will talk again. That can’t be all you ask. I like this place. I’ll be back,” she says simply. “This is more my kind of place than the castle.”

She sticks the cards in an inner part of her jacket and finishes her drink and pours the last of the carafe into her glass. She gets up and turns looking at her uncle wondering what he’s really like. She offers him the glass. “It is quite good,” she says with a murmur.

Bleys steps over and sits on the edge of the table Custus and Nala are playing on. Custus starts to say to Bleys but a tiny glance makes him decide to change his shot choice.

Bleys chuckles "Quite charming, isn't he? Bear in mind the story of the turtle and the scorpion. Jurt is often his own worse enemy. He's sloppy too. Oh i like him. He reminds me of myself in my youth. He may have a bright future in Amber. He gave you cards...I won't suggest discarding them, but why don't you let me look them over? I'll make sure he isn't eves dropping through them. He easily could be."

She reaches into her jacket. "Seems like charming is in no short supply here." It's offered as an observation not a dig, she puts her hand in her jacket and pulls out the cards and hands them to Bleys. "He seems to want to make friends in high places," she offers by way of explanation. She keeps the prophesy comments to herself. Manage

Smiling as he takes the cards, examining them closely. Noting the faces with a smile, but quizzically at the lighthouse.

"Want to see something funny?"

Raising a tiny sign of the Pattern, he lays it around the cards. Then flicks them hard, like a hard flick to the ear.

From the far side of the room is a sudden shriek of pain, and a shout.

"DAMN IT GINGER!!!!!"

Handing the cards back with a chuckle, he turns and puts an arm around Nala and helps her pool shot.

Cari can’t but help laugh out loud. She sizes up the rest of the room and watches Bleys with Nula.

After the current game is done she will ask Bleys, “Play a game with me?”

"Of course. Its been awhile since i played before tonight. Ive been horribly polite and political for a couple decades."

Taking a stick, and sorting the balls, sets and racks them. …See More Manage Like · Reply · 1w Jill Pritts Jill Pritts Cari nods, wondering how boring life must be when everything is too easy. She keeps the stick she was using and breaks. The balls spread with a crack. "Your break. Otherwise you'll just be watching."

In time, and with some reluctance, the Chad guys shove off, having survived almost picking a outrageously unequal fight and instead making an interesting set of contacts. Curtis say he hope to see you again soon. That he come to thin whips often and can be contacted at the Chad guild hall at the Palace Commons Tavern.

Cari flirts a bit on a low level. Shakes hands with Curtis and says she will be back. She's drunk a lot, smoked some and looks to Bleys and Nula. "Guess its time to shove off?" Somewhere deep down, she's disappointed that there were no fights. She has some energy to work off.

Bleys nods. "Well, I'm sure our Elites are hiding around here someplace. Since they didn't bother to be sociable and join us, let's Trump back to the castle and make them walk. Thin Whips may be a tough place but even here they are on their best behavior when I'm around. I have to go far from Amber to hang out in disreputable establishments and not be recognized. I made something of a well-known ass of myself during what Random likes calling my Drunk Ambition Tour. He's not wrong."

She nods with understanding, "We all have those periods." she says with a slight slur to her words. (Elites?)

Bleys at some point would have said-Elites are officially body guards, unofficially observers. Family members are assigned them and some serve for years, they end up essentially over-trained messengers. The Elites are the First Cohort, First Legion, of Amber military. They guard all the important things in Amber, including us. Every castle guard is an Elite. Trained as best Benedict can, veterans of Nasty Place, some hero's on their home worlds. Officially established by Oberon when he decided to have an army. Triple tough. But guarding us is an honor gig, not really dangerous since the people they protect are often people like Gerard, Caine, and I. No offense meant, you are new here, I recommend you not ditch yours too often.

"Let's go back to the castle and then we can see Nula safely back to wherever she is staying," Cari offers. "So did you like the evening out?" she asks with genuine curiosity.

Nala glances sideway slightly, at belys, then back to you with a small smile, "Oh yes. Delightful. I hope we can go there again without so many chaperones. Let me know when you want to play with those cantrips. Im almost always in hte Rebma Embassy."

"And I'm hanging at the castle, feel free to give me a call...I mean visit or note," she says.

"Before at the beginning and.." she gestures to her face. "You saw something, what was it,” she is drunk and speaks boldly.

Bleys leans against a wall. "You have not been here long. I doubt Random has walked you through the pattern yet? Nor have you gone to Fantalin for your year of Royal Rights education, correct?"

"I was told that you would be walking the pattern after your year at Fantalin. Its the way its been for the incoming cousins. From everything Random has said you hadn't walked the pattern. So i looked... But you have been through the pattern, Its inscribed in your genes already. So i accessed a certain awareness i have through the jewel. it showed me Gerard walking you through the pattern when you were young. Thats tricky. We sometimes forget Gerard can be clever. He must have had a good reason at the time to do something so radically unexpected. I imagine you probably don't remember it, or it comes as a vivid dream or reflected when you took acid or drank to much as the universe being overly colorful. It would have given you greater dexterity. Powered your endurance. It would give you a sense of internal power that probably fed your normal self-confidence. Im not aware of others who walked the pattern as young as you have. When you walk it again, perhaps you will discover why you don't remember such an experience. Still....Its something you might want to speak to Gerard about"

Cari combs back into her memories but can’t remember ever having met her Father before or having walked the Pattern. She shakes her head. “We will have a talk,” she mutters. “He claims that he didn’t know of me till relatively recently. “. She smiles sardonically, but her words are sincere. “Thank you for taking a stir-crazy woman out tonight. I appreciate it.”

He laughs, "Oh, the pleasure was mine! Till i ran into you my plan was to go check on my horse and make sure they were grooming him to my standards. Maybe get in some sword practice. A visit to Thin Whip was the furthest thing on my mind. As for Gerard....If he lied to you about that, don't hold it against him. We've had a lot of reasons to be secretive over the years."

He gives you a short nod and a wicked smile and goes off on his business.

Musings on Bursain- Vance

Looking out of the fore-screen as the ship twisted itself to float downward Vance let the automatics manage the docking details. His crew was already getting their gear together to disembark. The tour had been interesting, but uneventful. Senior staff would go over the details in time, but now it was time to leave. They saluted as they left, letting the Admiral of the Fleet remain alone on his combat vessel before going below

The red and white striped Defiant Class ship gently slipped, hummed, into the docking station on the front of the disc of the gigantic Amber Class Star ship that served as the flag ship of the Amber Star Fleet. The data rushed back and forth as the connections made themselves felt. His personal vessel, the Lollipop, was known across shadow and the realms the Amber fleet traveled. But this realm knew it not. Below they looked to the sky in fear uncertain what the bright green vessels implied.

Ports for ten other Defiant class ships dotted the top of the disc. Spots for eight more on the underside. Docks for nearly five hundred fighter ships ringed the edges of the mighty ship.

The Walrus was a city unto itself, but it was a show of force, a place of power, a thing of beauty.

It might have another name painted on its bulwarks, but to Admiral Vance, it was the Walrus. Fear my warble, ye little men. 'I am the ship Ozymandias, ship of ships; Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'

His moment of bliss over, Vance rose and walked to the exit. Benedict would not be pleased. Borlak remained deep in shadow, far from realms where a phaser could remove this thorn in Amber's side.

He contemplated the possibilities. Five trumps shifted in his mind. Could they convince them to join Star Fleet?

Vandor?-a future wargod- might relish the opportunity

Arloxedra?-He might serve out of duty, if Random insisted.

Vek?-A chaosian. What secrets could be told to one who is inherently a security risk?

Carissa? A pacifist, but perhaps thats what the fleet needed.

Jurt? A Chaosian... but none to happy about it. Willing to serve amber to stay free of Chaos.

And beyond that, the Blade of Bursain, a power in play..

What was seen on the planet below might make any of them toss their hat in the ring..

But could he manage the fallout?

There was much to consider. Perhaps he should grab a bottle of Old Mink and take Truman out surfing. Maybe he would know how to toss this bucket of kittens around.

Drums and Duty-Random & Truman

Sitting behind the sort of drum kit that is worthy of the King of Amber, Random set the sticks aside and reaches for his tankard. Setting his cigarillo aside he looks over at the nephew he is about to dump a metric ton of crap on. He watches him sling his ax aside and reach for his own tankard.

Sighing, and lays out his cards.

“So this is the problem. The shadows ebb, flow, and swirl in ways that boggle the mind. I've sat in Jewel of Judgment and felt the way things flow and seen the islands of stability like rocks in the oceans. Amber is a huge island. It has shadows moving around it crashing on the sand. Squiggles like Bursain, Trasidy, Alamond, and even Azcala, are their own rocks. Avalon is another huge island. Mandalay is another. Each time a shadow crashes it gains a little something and loses a little something.”

“Its an imperfect metaphor, but it will have to do. The shadows obviously don't move but its the perceptions of the powers regarding them that I saw while in the jewel. But there is an exchange..I need people to observe it. The exchange isn't rocks and brush and oceans..Its people, thoughts, music, art, architecture... it could be anything. I need people that will note little things, as well as big things.”

“Currently I have Cogswell Mal At Riess as the ambassador to Mandalay. Hes kind of a wackadoo but a loyal one. He's musical as well as military so I thought he was a good choice since as a veteran of Patternfall and a Duke, he seemed respectable in rank. But it turns out that he isn't a good at noticing things. I don't expect Mandalay to be a military threat but that's all Cogswell seems to think is important for me to know. I don't need someone who only knows one song. I need someone who can play lead, but can strum the rhythm if the song requires it. And I think I need someone not only of rank, but of blood.”

“Mandalay is the center of Shadow, regardless of how the ebbs and flows of shadow veils work. If trends are coming from Chaos to Amber they will pass by there. And visa versa. Things bouncing off the squiggles will show up there as well. I need a clever eye, a ready wit, and person able to sing lead, but still be able to work with the chorus.”

“I also need someone to hang out with Adrian and his collection of Lords and lunatics as a Lord of the House Bariman. He has seven of my own siblings as Lords; Orsoloa, Sand, Elfwine, Hamilton, and Joseph. As well as Fleece and the ½ of Deirdre that is bonded to him. Toss in some of your cousins, Nadine, Kenshin, Houk, Dashel, Tender and Ghost, and that's a lot of family firepower outside of Amber. His other lords are a collection of nature gods as well as lots of musicians and artists. And of course Fleece's pack of Chaos hounds that turned on Chaos when Fleece did.”

“I don't expect him to raise an army but I do expect an attack on our culture. He can export music and theater that can change public opinion. He has Orson Wells running a road company of Les Misérables that spent a decade in the Dramaturge and is in Thelusia now. It opens in Amber soon. Like i need an anti-royalist theater production now? Bleys practically made my reign a farce at the beginning when he was on his drunk ambition tour. Adrian has friggin' David Bowie scouting concert venues here. Warohl prints made in Mandalay are turning up in Amber art galleries and it would not surprise me if Adrian didn't have Warhol as a Lord already. Branch Rickey, John McGraw, and Juke Talwig manage a baseball league in the Dramaturge with 80 teams spread across 30 shadows in the Green Sway and they are trying to get minor leagues set up in a half dozen Golden Circle kingdoms as well as cities along the Jeweled Road.”

“The problem is that Adrian knows that music, theater, art, and sports are things i really can't thump. I just need to know whats coming better so i can plan for it.”

“Another problem is that Mandalay is officially neutral in the battles between Chaos and Amber. So its like Casablanca for agitators. The Blade of Bursain is lost right now and whoever finds it can do a heck of a lot of damage with his lordship of Bursain. I won't bore you with the magical details but i need to know if there are rumors about where the Blade is. Such rumors will be scrubbed clean by the time they get here but they will be fresh and new in Mandalay. Azcala has been sending Jaguar and Puma cultists down the Jeweled Road for 20 years now and while CHAD has been pretty good at keeping them out of the city they are infiltrating the Golden Circle kingdoms. Azcala has a friggin Embassy in Mandalay. Lastly, Borlak is on the move. He usually raids around Regor since those shadows protect him from Vance's starships and my riflemen. The last thing i need is Borlak bringing his Flowing Horde to Amber.”

“So...Truman, i'd like you to take the post of Ambassador to Mandalay from Amber. Go, hang out with the lords, chat up the family members, spend time in the Dramaturge. Hell, Adrian might offer to let you walk the Mark. I'll be encouraging your kin to drop by and visit you. With the exceptions of Bleys, Flora, Vance, you and I, few of the Amber side kin have spent much time in Mandalay.”

Sitting with a crooked frown, Truman does a one-hand roll and lights the wrap, with a offhand flick.

“Well now, Random, it sounds like i have little choice in the matter. Still, I have been through the Dramaturge a bunch. You know of course that Hamilton, Dashel, Vance, and I run a Famous Concert Tour business out of the place. I've done Woodstock a couple times with them, as well as some stuff at the Fillmore, some Dead shows, Mozart directing “the Magic Flute”, “Ajax”, staring Sophocles. Took a few tours to the games in Rome, but that was a bit...gruesome. Oh, and a really bizarre tour of Musicals with really bizarre combinations of actors in lead roles. John Wayne and Elinor Roosevelt in “Hello, Dolly”, Charlie Chaplin and Whoppie Goldberg in the “King and I”; That kind of thing... I suppose i could lead some of the kin around there without too much trouble. Dashel would probably better at that. He maybe a lord in Mandalay but he considers himself more cosmopolitan. As for the rest, I'll keep busy.”

Tapping off the wrap and taking a chug of the dark, he continues.

“I hate to be a greedy weasel about it Random, and I'll do it of course, but whats in it for me? I get a staff I'm sure. Valuable parting gifts? Copy of the home game?”

Random nods, “Of course.. Well, You'll have plenipotentiary powers of course... But there is one other thing. Tell you what, you go get your affairs in order. When you are ready call me.”

Hours pass as Truman gets his traveling kit together. Putting his blade on his belt, and his guitar on his back, he opens a trump to the King.

“You ready? Come ahead” Random extends his hand.

“Ya, i suppose.” Truman grasps it and steps forward.

Arriving at the flat rock plain, the crooked trees, and the glowing artifact of the Primal Pattern. Dworkin stands at the center of the pattern. Fiona and Gerard look from mouth of the cave leading back to Dworkin's apartments.

“Ah, well, this isn't what i expected.” Truman looks around the stark landscape he has only heard rumors of before.

Random walks to the start of the pattern. Reaching under his tunic, he withdraws the Jewel of Judgment.

“Come ahead. Take this and walk the pattern. When you get there Dworkin will guide you in attuning it."

"Ah, Random, ...You want me attuned to the Jewel of Judgment? Really? I know a few power words but its been years since i toyed with sorcery."

Ranom says, "I know. Im going to have Fiona come to Mandalay on the sly and tutor you on sorcery. I know this is a lot to dump on you but i trust your sense of Duty. And frankly i trust your father's willingness to turn you over his knee if need be. "

"Adrian is attuned to the Jewel, and got it on this pattern as well. Adrian will know how seriously I'm taking the post if i send someone known to be in my inner circle, hell in my garage band, who also has the same attunement he has. Dworkin and I spoke in depth about it and we think that if he offers to let you assay the mark you should, and you have my permission."“

Nodding, overwhelmed, he takes the stone and begins walking, feeling the strain of the effort an octave above his previous passages through the pattern.

Reaching the center, Dworkin takes his hand and the stone. “Concentrate on the stone. Look into it deeply. Transport into the center. I'll follow you in. “

The experience is musical, he feels the glow inscribe itself on his sense of self. Standing in the crimson center Dworkin is suddenly there beside him. The gyrating patterns around him moving like writhing snakes around him. Dworkin reaches out and grasps small broken sections of writhing snakes, drawing them together and passing them through the stunned Truman. Dworkin weaves expertly the writhing strands through the Ambassador to Mandalay. He feels the writhing inscriptions impose themselves on his soul.

Coming to awareness he stands in the center of the patter. Dworkin supports him as he recovers from his weakness. The stone on its chain hangs around Dworkin's neck.

“Go to the Dramaturge. Walk to Mandalay from there. Your patent of appointment is in your satchel.”

Moments pass and the transport completes. The new Ambassador to Mandalay contemplates the changes in his life that a few hours could make.

A Conversation in Trasidy

My question is will it work?” He sits against a carved siege of ebony and pearl. The other lords sit in their own sieges, decorated to their desires.

“The logic of creation strongly suggests it. Ours is a completed work. Done in the right lights and with the Jewel of Judgment. Being correctly finished ours may be reopened and added to. I think” The diminutive wizard speaks with an enthusiastic cantor.

“What happens if it works?”

“Ours is a simple single realm, with no shadows save pocket dimensions. It would raise us to a level equal to Azcala or Regor at least. Maybe more. It would gain us from a few shadows to thousands of shadows. Our population could move into shadows almost certainly filled with the raw materials of construction. New realms might even already have castles and complexes and cities waiting for our people. Of course those shadows might have people in them. Also, nearly all conversations on the path would agree that the realms of Bursain itself would not be destroyed but added, possibly each gaining shadows of their own, creating elements of internal Sway...Our own Golden Circle even... Lands...Suns...Space... Perhaps even galactic space! Shadows with galactic space, we might have millions of worlds!!... with a star fleet of our own we could explore it, billions, trillions even.. we could..”

“And if it doesn't work?” He interrupts with a voice like an executioners sword.

Stopping, his excitement disappearing.

“Well, we could all die as the inscription shatters and our bodies become the dust of shadow. I would probably insist the realm be emptied of souls when the attempt was made. ”

Leaning back he frowns..

“I see. And the odds?”

The wizard shrugged and smiled, “its a crap shoot. Hope for a seven” Sipping from his cup of steaming blood red port.

The seven other sieges, with people who have known each other since the birth of the stars, wait for the word.

“Where do we start?” their lord says.

“Well, Boss, that depends.”

“On what?”

“How much bloodshed we are willing to indulge in. “

“The odds? Who are the pieces?“

“Maylon Hendrake, Jurt Sawell, and Borlak the Ravager on one side. Arloxedra, Carissa, and Vander on the other. And a wild card... Im not sure. According to the oracles its a piano player or a demon, maybe both.. ”

“What do you know of them?” leaning in finally more curious then terrified.

“Maylon has been to Trasidy many times, as you know. She likes the bloody parts. Jurt does some trade in exotic animals, nothing profane. I've done a tiny bit of work with him. He's been here to find musical acts, magical oddities, yet, he comes from the same bloodline as Maylon. Borlak,..luckily we have not made the acquaintance of him and glad I am of it. I've seen what his horde does to cities. I met Arloxedra when Eric was crowned, as part of your entourage. Nebbish, nervous, critically flawed, with the mark of doom. The others, just visions. Speed, youth, potential. A spare heir, an infant war-god, in case a doomed prince was sacrificed by a pragmatic king. A girl child who walked the pattern holding her father's hand. A demon flayed alive by his brothers till he cursed and rocked the towers of chaos. I can't say which is more dangerous; devils we know or devils we don't. “

“Your advice?” The Lord of Trasidy leans in and asks.

“Roll a seven”

“Seek them out. “

A briefing by Benedict

Random looked out over the west wall to the lit city below. Its lights were new and set a different look to the city from the torches of his youth. Les smoke and tar, more fairyland glow. Like Disneyland with nightly bloodletting.

Beside the king on the battlements stood two people as he pondered the news. A third stoods far aside, waiting. Bleys leaned next to the king, passing a blue bottle to him.

“Its not like we didn't know they were out there. They have been skulking the Jeweled road for twenty years since Swayvil released Tonacat and returned the Key of Azcala to him. Its a damn good thing he can't find his sword. One of the harbor gangs flushed out a Jaguar cult cell here in Amber and spiked them to the walls of the Harbormaster's shack. CHAD has been hanging puma cultists up and down the road since they got here. They've been working with Duke Yaro's Jeweled Walkers picking up hunter teams. Hell, it was that little nightmare Vonnilia that tipped us off to this troop movement in force in the first place”

Random sips and nods, “ I know, Bleys, it just is one of those burden of the crown things”

Looking to the shadow and the third person, waving him to come closer.

Walking forward, the small man in fox tweed bows to the king, moonlight glinting off the three green mithril trees on the right of his forehead. The four colored stones on the left of his forehead are barely concealed under his feathered slouch hat.

Random extends a hand. “Well met, Fortunadas. I expect you came to hear Prince Benedict's report of the performance of your troops?”

Fort smiles as he greets the king. “Yes, and if there is a card game you know of, I'd like to hear about that as well.”

Chuckling, he looks to the tall dour marshal of Amber, “Alright, Ben whats the butcher bill? “

He steps forward and uncharacteristically takes the bottle and a pair of goodly chug before talking. His drinking surprises his brothers.

“We arrived by trump at Trudana Felik. The Azcalans were transferring a force of 150 thousand, all foot troops save their commanders. The CHAD scout, a dwarf assassin I'm sure, named Merceno, gave us the numbers. Marching them bold as brass balls down the Jeweled Road past Drisna. I put ten thousand of our troops on the field, mostly foot of the 12th legion with a thousand horse and twenty Elites. The CHAD contingent had something around six hundred. Their 3rd Force Command, under King Arin of Freestate and his bodyguard Sir Taroos, consisted of two hundred foot, a hundred horse, fifty of their Savior Slayer Corp under the corp leader Sir Reltorious himself. Twenty of their SSC's Armored Cleric Order. They had the healer group under the leadership of a very interesting woman, Dame Harriet. Two hundred clerics of Tosian origin. At the time it seemed like a token force and their healing troop looked very little like our surgical teams. They resembled something akin to singers for the dead or drunken camp followers. Its my first time seeing them in a large scale action on our behalf. They earned their pay, that's for certs. “

“I was hoping our force could follow the Azcalans and work the shadows to a favorable ground. Then import the rest of the legion and take them to battle at something like 5 to 1 odds. 30 thousand of ours to 150 thousand of theirs. But once Sir Reltorious saw the foe he and his Savior Slayers attacked. 70 against 150 thousand. King Arin and his half-orc companion were a heartbeat behind them leading a wedge of their knightly heavy horse. Apparently the Tosians trust the Savior Slayer battle lust. Their foot came swarming in like monkeys tossed off towers. Lastly this small ugly woman riding a frigging' dottle came up to me and asked if Amberites take ears? I told her we didn't and she rode off on that beast, leading the rabble followers with a Reardan cudgel in one hand and a tankard of mead the size of Gerard's head in the other.. The whole crew stank of mead, wine and fragrant smoking herbs.”

“I was prepared to watch them be slaughtered as a lesson in restraint. I was with my commanders when that red mage with his talking cat and your girlfriend, Bleys, that Vonnilia, rode up and sat with us watching, a crystal glass of wine in his hand, toasting them. “

“It was a pretty splashy mess. I don't think the Azcalans expected it. Not sure I did and I've seen them fight in Tosa.”

Ran passed the bottle around to Bleys and Fortunadas, “Do tell.”

“First, I don't think the Azcalans had weapons able to penetrate the mithril and Reardan panoplies of the Paladins or their ACOs. They rained down edged hell and trampled the wounded. Beyond that the majority of the tosians were not...line fighters. Heros, like Elites. Irregular Heavy Elite A Infantry. Mixed weapons, mixed armors, mixed fighting styles, mixed battle cries. Noisy as fuck. The Azcalans kept trying to move forces in lines of battle to face them but they moved too fast. Hyper-fast almost.”

Bleys-”Adventurers from the Stone of Skull shadows in Tosa... Spice addicts. Tosian melange doubles one's speed. You see the blue in blue eyes on them and that's it Their wizards and their magics specialize in haste magic as well.” Fort nods, his own blue in blue eyes shaded by night and his foppish feathered hat.

Ben nods, “Indeed. The ones that were wounded, suddenly had one of the drunk clerics that Harriet led running into the middle of battle, swinging maces and cudgels to tag the injured, who popped up like jack-in-the-boxes and began rending flesh again. Its as if the clerics knew the moment a warrior fell.”

Fort nods, “They do. Its a clerical power of theirs to know the fading strength of those around them”

Ben's eyes widen, “That's certainly convenient. Anyway, after about 3 minutes of contact the whole center of the Azcalan ling broke. 10 thousand feathered troops running off the road into whatever world was there. That Red Digan tossed the leprechaun girl and the cat to the ground and they ran through the battle following the fleeing troops. He said we wouldn't need to worry about chasing those ones down. I watched his empty crystal goblet refill magically with wine.

Bleys sighs and responds slightly agitatedly, “Frigging rabid elephants, Random, I tell you there will be rabid elephants in the streets.”

Random slaps his shoulder hard and waits for Benedict to continue.

“My commanders were anxious anyway and it was quite a sight. I admit my own blood-lust was rising. About then a commander of the Azcalans, likely a high noble in jaguar robes, came to the rear of the Tosians. Red Digan pointed at him and his flesh melted like boiled wax. He sat his horse bereft of flesh and looked up at us like he felt betrayed by the gods of war. Then his skeleton fell apart. His horse came trotting up to Digan like a puppy. I had to let my commanders go or they were going to mutiny. So we took battle to them at 15 to 1 odds against. “

“12th Legion lost perhaps 2000 troops initially, 6000 wounded initially, in the first few minutes.. But those drunken healers started riding among us healing our people like nothing I've ever had the power to use. It was....extraordinary. “

Bleys “That's high praise from you, Brother. I've rarely heard you so keen with your regard.”

Ben nods to his red-haired brother “I'm used to a certain level of cool professionalism among my troops. Calm regard in battle saves lives and allows for a smooth flow of battle toward victorious ends. CHAD, well, lets just say they approaches it differently. Its rarely been my experience to see that kind of enthusiastic bloodshed. Amber has had its eager killers, its barbarians, even its beserkers. We do what we must in battle and some of us love it too well. I've seen Gerard, Dalt, Osric, even Caine and Borlak, and all have gloried in battle and reveled in bloodlust. I am guilty of that sin myself at times. Bleys, you and Corwin fought one of the finest battles I ever witnesses to gain the courtyard of Amber up the Kolvir Stair. But these warriors take joy in battle to a fairly insane point. Little or no unit cohesion but bloody work and enthusiasm. This group had few wizards but their clerics were incredible. Dame Harriet guided the clerics to provide a kind of stability to their battle. Their clerical magic was powerful and direct. Its a hell of a shame we don't have anything like it. “

Random quietly asks, “How did it end?”

“There came a point in battle where we began taking surrender. As soon as that began Dame Harriet's clerics snapped to and each went to a member of the SSC and healed them completely. I have heard of their tendency to execute the wounded and the prisoners but it was interesting to see the cleric swarm them to insure their mania didn't lead to organized murder.”

“Once the Azcalans loss morale they either fled or surrender. We killed perhaps twenty thousand. Another 60 thousand were wounded. Ten thousand fled into shadow and when we found them they were dead or mindless in madness. We took 60 thousand uninjured prisoners.”

“That's when that Harriet came up again. She said there was time to raise the enemy dead if we wanted. I declined. She then asked if I was sure about the ears? I thought she meant from the dead. While I am not a fan of mutilating the dead I told her to go ahead. “

Fortunadas took the battle, holding up his hand to request a pause and passed the bottle after his drinking from it.

Fort breathed, “I know whats coming but go ahead, sir”

Ben looks to Fort then to hi kings, “So these clerics and the other CHAD go to the wounded, then to the prisoners. They went to each and clove their left ear from them and healed their wounds, telling them that if they were caught making war on Amber again they had loss the right to ask for mercy. Imagine, Azcalans asking for mercy...Random, I may have to ask your permission to marry her someday.”

Random spits the sweet whiskey of Amber and chokes briefly. Beside him Bleys and Fortunadas laugh.