RefreshedandReadyRefreshed and Ready"No. It isn't." She looked up, head tilting to look up into the oak instead of the stars. "But as long as I am here, we should be safe. Less so if I am not, and your greatest danger would be from those kindly disposed toward me. So, if we get separated, take care with your actions, because it's tough to tell who is friend, and who is foe." "I will endeavor, then, not to be separated." Galen says, looking about for a place to rest. "I will likely waken during the night. I feel disconnected from my usual cycles of sleep and rest." Brieanne nodded. "I don't think we'll be here long, but you should stay in the meadow." She stretched out, gesturing for Briarsting and using the hound as a pillow to lean against as she relaxed. Briarsting, long used to this, gets himself comfortable and looks up at Galen with a curious rather than baleful expression. Smoketredder for his part is laying down closer to Hadrian and Dora. Polt still quietly munches some grass. Dozing lightly, Brieanne listened to the sounds of the others sleeping, and the muted voices of the meadow. They were watched, of course, a host of curious eyes peering at them from the trees above and the grass they laid in, but no one intruded upon their rest. When the sky turned pink she stretched and got up to check on the horses. The poor animals had been left standing in their saddles, so she made sure nothing was chafing, readjusted straps and after promising oats and carrots, she left them as they were -ready to go again. Brieanne's ministrations go a long way to relieving the incipient chafing and raw skin caused by the saddles and tack still on the animals. Polt looks at Brieanne with patient,expressive eyes, perhaps on behalf of the less intelligent steeds. "Aren't you glad I leave you naked?" She whispered into Polt's ear, pausing to give him some attention as well. Polt's response ,although nonverbal except for a quiet neigh, is enough for Brieanne to get the point that her longtime steed agrees. Galen has moved his position from where Brieanne remembers. He did waken during the night according to her light dozing, but he did not wander far. When Brieanne finishes with the horses, Galen is awake. "Pink fingered Dawn closes another beautiful night." Galen says by way of greeting. "She does, and it promises to be an interesting day." Brieanne winked. The Moonrider gives a dry chuckle in response. She checked Dora and Hadrian next, ready to go when they were, but not quite ready to nudge them. Both of them are still sleeping, but Brieanne's quiet approach is enough to rouse them from the light level of sleep that they currently inhabit. Warily Dora cranes her head to regard Brieanne and Hadrian's eyes flutter open. "Hello." Hadrian says in a guarded and sleepy tone of voice. "Hello." Brieanne knelt down a short distance away, keeping her voice soft. "No rush, but we are ready to ride when you feel up to it." Dora gives off a small sibilant hiss as she sleepily flutters off of Hadrian's chest and to the ground opposite Brieanne. "What is the plan?" Hadrian asks, himself slowly getting up to his elbows, his eyes blinking as he shrugs off the aftereffects of a deep and sound sleep. "Because all my others have been so brilliant?" Brieanne laughed, but not so loud as to jar still sleepy heads. "I say we return at least as far as the tree, Trump Uncle Bleys and then hunt forward until we see where they might have gotten to." "Tracking them, you mean." Hadrian says slowly, now moving to a sitting position. A hand runs through his black hair, and then he shakes his head. "As far as your plans..." Hadrian yawned. "Well, we aren't in a democracy and this is still your show." Slowly and carefully, Hadrian makes it to his feet. "What is around to break our fast first?" he asks in the same sort of desire that Brieanne is familiar with in his brothers. At this comment, off to the side, Galen chortles slightly. "Oh, it's probably a bad idea for you to drink or eat anything here." Brieanne replied, looking around. "You never know to whom it belongs and what sort of .... complications a little meal might lead to, and I'd really hate for you to get into some sort of commitment I might not be able to get you back out of." She wrinkled her nose in distastes. "Although... it might end up meaning you belong to me, but that might get tricky too." She winked and rolled to her feet, heading for the horses. "Then we shall not eat here, no matter how hungry." Galen says, heading to his horse. Looking a little chastised, Hadrian does the same, Dora perching on his shoulder. "We'll eat on the other side of the veil." While the men got themselves situated on their horses, she concentrated on the banyan tree where they had rested the day before. The dappling of sun on the roots as they reached down like branches. The loft of the canopy far above and the grasslands swathed in morning's gold glow. If she could save them a ride, it was worth a few minutes of concentration. Brieanne becomes less and less aware of Hadrian and Galen looking at her as she concentrates on the great Banyan, the large tree that they had been led to prior to their encounter with the forces of Chaos. Over three minutes, her perceptions shift and change, and the scent of the soil beneath the tree, the feel and weight of its presence nearby, the miniature ecosystem which existed within its tangle of branches, bark and roots. Like a single, perfect crystal image, it is in Brieanne's head, complete and fully formed. Balancing her movement against the need to keep the carefully crafted image whole, she stretched open the Trump connection and reached to pass each of them through, the hounds and then rode through herself. On the other side, she drew a deep breath, pleased with herself and then looked at Hadrian. "Alright Pattern master, think we're in the same place?" Dora laughs sibilantly at the appellation that Brieanne bestows on Hadrian. Galen looks around, mostly att the large tree. Hadrian stammers a bit, and then looks at Brieanne uncertainly. "Pattern master, me?" Hadrian says. He then gently guides his horse in a single circuit around the banyan, taking it in, examining it from base to branches. "The tree seems the same, and the shadow feels the same." Hadrian agrees. "If we aren't in Risterion again, we're so close as to make no difference." "That was a neat trick, Brieanne." he adds. "I've been told necessity is the mother of invention, and I didn't think we'd make the whole ride on empty stomachs. That, and I'm extremely curious to know what our 'friends' have gotten up to." She arched her brows and looked in that direction. "Maybe you could solve the food problem while I have a word with our uncle?" "Food, Dora and I will do." Hadrian agrees. "I suspect." Hadrian looks at the sunshine. "That Galen will prefer to be out of the sun and remain here with you under the tree." "You are right...Pattern Master." Galen Miriamson says with an amused tone. "I would prefer to be with the Tree Mistress." Hadrian starts trotting his horse away from Brieanne and Galen, leaving the pair of them, the hounds and their horses, alone underneath the Banyan Tree. "He is a good lad." Galen says. "There is something of ice and snow to him. I can appreciate that affinity." he says to Brieanne. "I do not know if you chose it deliberately, but we three all do have our own affinities in that regard." "Affinity?" Brieanne looked curious as she dropped to the ground and gave Polt a pat. She reached for Galen's horse, intended to partially strip the animal so it could rest in comfort. The horse far from objects from Brieanne's ministrations, giving a soft whinny as Brieanne divests it of some of its burden. "I'm supposed to be Earth, or Nature, or ...something." Brieanne tried to recall, failed, and shook her head. "But I didn't do anything deliberately." "Even if it wasn't deliberate, you have an aspect that is something botantical and arboreal at the very least." Galen says, gesturing to the banyan tree around and above them. "If this were not so tropical, this would be very much like home to you, would it not?" he asks. Brieanne let the horse go, looking around at the tree. "This is nice." She answered slowly. "I'd prefer if he had more neighbors and there wasn't so much open space out there," she gestured to the plains hovering in the distance. "But I don't mind things being warm." She waited, listening for the rest of what he was getting at. Galen nods at Brieanne's appraisal of the Banyan. After a moment, he continues. "It is just what I have noticed about you since we've met." Galen says. "And I was enquiring about the mechanism that you have been using from place to place. It almost seems that you are one with these plants, this tree, things green. It is good to know what ones allies can do, and cannot do. Especially if, as events have shown, it can be a matter of life and death." "You could not will yourself or us to a lifeless, rocky canyon in the same way you brought us here, could you?" Galen asks. "I couldn't get us anywhere I haven't been." Brieanne explained. "A canyon...?" She bit her lip, tried to conjure up something similar, and drew a blank. "I don't know. Maybe if it had water, or if it was someplace I'd been to over and over again, because that's really the key. I have to -know- the place." Her hand drifted to her heart as she looked around again. "This speaks to me." Galen gives a nod and a slight smile at Brieanne's admonition. "That is as clear as the light of the full moon shining on a moor." Bright eyes turned his way again. "If you let me in, and shared a place in your heart, I could get there, too. By one means, or another." She smiled and let the implication hang as she walked deeper into the shade. She drew out her deck, shuffling Bleys' card to the top, but let the cards lay in her lap rather then end their conversation. Galen considers this a moment and then regards then. "Then, when it is time for our paths to part, you could, if I shared it with you, save me a long walk home? Although it might not be wise for you to linger. My compatriots will not be pleased with the disruption of their plans, no matter how reckless they might have been, to your eyes." "I *would* appreciate such a short route back, however." Galen reaffirms. "When the time comes." "I can get you there," and then the gaze turned impish. "But just because I open the door, doesn't mean I have to walk through it. Just think of all the things I could toss here and there if the mood suited." She winked, teasing, because she'd never done any such thing, and she wouldn't. Not to someone she liked. But then she was lifting Bleys' card to concentrate. Galen gives a nod and quiets as Brieanne's trump call effort begins. The contact comes quickly and easily, without muss or fuss. Bleys is standing on a balcony somewhere. The background is not Amber harbor and not immediately familiar to Julian's daughter. "Ah, Brieanne of course." Bleys says, with a nod and a brief smile. "I take it that you have a status report for me. Something beyond the local botanica at any event, yes?" "Something a bit beyond." Brieanne leaned back against a trunk-like root. "For instance, the next time I have to play fox and hound with Chaosians, I would much rather have a mage on hand. House Jesby was thinking of visiting, but they've had a much disturbed night and were rather in a snit last I saw, and while some are tired of marching across worlds no one will indulge them by forging a road because that's a no-no in the treaty." "Fascinating tents, by the way. Whole castles inside." She stretched and left silence for him to fill, blue eyes gazing at him steadily. "Now, though, if I had sent a mage instead of someone with different talents like you, the challenges would have been different. My nephew's approach to the situation, spells in hand, would have been far more catastrophic, I think." "Jesby, though." Brieanne's redheaded uncle looks thoughtful. "Now that is exactly the kind of news I could use. If it were to be Chaos, I wouldn't expect them on the vanguard of our visitors." "The Castle in the tent is a cheap Logrus based shadow trick, though." Bleys adds with a grin. "It gives advanced students of the Pattern a toothache." "So, would you say that your 'fox and hound' game has dissuaded them from progressing further?" Bleys inquires. "I doubt it. We kicked the hornets' nest good, but if it were me, I'd shake it off and continue with more caution. The only one they got a good look at was Galen, so unless they assume Trump must mean Amber, the Family won't have entered into things for them. Therefore," she shrugged, "why stop? Especially if their intentions are fair?" "Galen." Bleys says. He seems to be looking past Brieanne. "Ah, he is the Moonrider whom you described to me as 'willing to be reasonable', yes? I didn't expect you to transport him with you on your trip." She nodded. Bleys pauses and then continues. "If they proceed with more caution, their progress and arrival here will be slowed." he brightens his mien. "That is an unexpected but desirable side benefit to your expedition. I was merely asking for reconnaissance." He grins. "You have, as they say, given good value for money." With a soft laugh, she tilted her head and gave him a sly look. "We'll see if you say that when I come to collect." She sat up and glanced around to see if Hadrian was in sight. "Unless something comes after us... and they were duly trying last night, we're going to have breakfast and see where they might have gotten off to. If it's interesting, maybe I'll call." Hadrian is not yet in sight. The only people around are Galen as well as Polt and the hounds. She gave him a wink. The call was largely over, nothing left but some verbal footsie and polite good-byes. "Be careful and don't undo your good work. After all." Bleys says. "I'd much rather have you come to collect, rather than coming to collect you." "Though even that would be better than having to explain it all to Daddy...." She mused aloud, fingers waving good bye. Bleys gives a grin that fades like the cheshire cat's, as the contact ends. "I'm going to see what I can see...." She told Galen, scanning the horizons for any sign of Hadrian before starting the very long climb to the top of the tree. There is no sign of Hadrian, from ground level, in any direction. Not even Briarsting and Smoketredder seem to have a good bead on where Hadrian and Dora have gotten off to, since they don't show any sort of reaction on where Hadrian might be. In point of fact, at least within Brieanne's scan to the horizon, this shadow seems absolutely deserted of animal life larger than, say, a squirrel. "Where *has* he gotten off to?" Galen wonders aloud once its clear to Brieanne that Gerard's son is nowhere in evidence. "I hope that he hasn't gotten himself into difficulty with my former captors." "Nothing to say that he stayed 'Here'..." She shrugged, and headed up the tree, hunting for the tallest point and hugging in closer and closer as the branches got smaller and smaller until her toes were curling around slender branches and her head broke through the top of the canopy. "Good point." Galen says. "I'll keep watch down here in case he pops in unexpectedly. The tree climb is easy for Brieanne. Its a different sort of tree than what she is used to, but its still a tree. Branches, bark, leaves, the familiar branching fractal pattern of the majestic queen of the plant kingdom. And then she feels the sunshine on her face, as she reaches the top, the crown, the roof of the canopy of the massive, hectare sized tree. It's a breathtaking view. Trees like this dot the landscape in every direction, with small moats filled in with smaller trees between the massive banyans which dominate them. And as Brieanne scans around in search of Hadrian, she starts to get the tingle of a trump call. As it so happens...its Hadrian. "I was just looking about for you." She opened the contact, using the vantage to look for any signs of their quarry as well. As Brieanne opens the contact, she sees that Hadrian is not in the forest, and not in the shadow, either. He, Dora, and his horse are just outside what looks like to be the side entrance to a large stone building, of blue stones. "I thought to myself." Hadrian begins. "Why am I going to scrounge around for apples, fruits or whatever I can plausibly shadow shift for? So I got smarter and we popped back to Castle Azure." "Dame Estrella is always happy to see I am well provisioned." he says, patting a picnic basket. He then looks a little curiously at Brieanne. "Are you...on the top of that tree?" he asks. "I didn't think you'd stay here," Brieanne grinned, 'and yes, I am. It's a splendid view." She took another moment to look around, searching for banners, smoke, sky borne watchers, or anything else that might indicate that the Chaosians were close and then looked back at Hadrian. There is something flying in the sky toward the horizon on the north, something winged, and larger than what Brieanne normally thinks of as a bird of prey. It's pretty far away, and its difficult due to the profile to get a sense of what precisely it is. It is slowly making circular motions in the direction of Brieanne's Banyan, although its pace and its pattern make it a very slow approach. "Shall I drop down and bring you through?" "I wouldn't mind coming through to see that view and climbing down myself..." Hadrian begins. He then grins. "However, the horse might object to the idea. When you are down, you can bring me through." he adds. "Okay..." Brieanne eyed the creature in the air another moment and then began a rapid descent, dropping several feet at a time with her arms tucked in to avoid branches and then spread wide to land, catch her balance and jump down to the next level. The ground rushed up in stages, all of Brieanne's concentration on each landing until she finally dropped to the ground. She caught herself in a low crouch, collapsing to absorb the impact and then stood back up. Through the descent, via the connection, Brieanne can hear Hadrian's laughter. "Ready?" She extended a hand to Hadrian. "We might have to do that again, first. Dora wasn't in the link and is jealous for the experience." he grins. He then takes the offered hand, and passes through his horse, Dora, and then himself, carrying a picnic basket. Galen stands nearby, watching with a slightly amused expression. "Next time," she promises Dora as they come through. "Truly, it is difficult to catch you unless you wish to be." Galen says to Brieanne. "That sshe isss." Dora agrees, taking wing and making a lazy beat around the group. "Small, fast targets live longer." Brieanne offered with a grin. "Dora would agree." Hadrian says. "Shall we eat here or move first?" Hadrian adds. "I noticed you were looking at something up on the horizon." Galen furrows his eyebrows at Hadrian's remark. "What did you see, Brieanne?" She shrugged. "Something large, high and possibly headed this way, though not directly. It's circling..." she gestured, "and it will eventually get here. Not sure if it's looking for us or if it's native, and down in here, since we haven't left fresh tracks..." she looked up at the canopy, trying to peer through it. "Maybe it won't notice us, but it will make things interesting when we venture out to see where the host got off to." The view through the canopy is, plainly, not a very good one. The branches and leaves of the mighty tree are efficient in their use of sunlight, and not that many rays of light manage to escape the leaves and branches and reach the ground. . The flying thing, similarly, would not find it easy to spot the group if it arrived overhead. Too, its one of the reasons Galen is doing as well as he is for so long outside of Night"It's pretty dense." Galen says, as if replying to Brieanne's gaze upwards at the tree. "Hard to see through, although, of course, there are senses beyond sight." "Hmm..." Brieanne nodded. "We eat first, while we can. It wasn't in a hurry and Dora and I can check on it easily enough to see what progress it's made." "Ath long as I am thaved thome!" Dora laughs in a sibilant hiss. "Don't worry, Dora, you know we will." Hadrian promises as he begins setting out the items inside of the basket he carries. Inside of his basket, the newest son of Gerard produces a bevy of items. There are several loaves of bread--rye and whole grain. There is thin flat bread, too. Several hunks of cheese of various types. Add in apples, pears and a portion of berries that each look to brieanne like a squat, orange raspberry. The smell of fish comes as Hadrian also produces smoked salmon wrapped in paper, and a jar of pickled herring as well. Somewhere in the basket, Hadrian also managed to fit, and hence produce now, cold, cooked pieces of a chicken. Finally, along with glasses, Hadrian produces a long bottle labeled "saft". "I hope there is enough." Hadrian says, with no trace of irony. "Oh....." Brieanne examined the haul with a smile, "I'm certain we'll manage." She chose some bread and cheese and found a place to sit, close enough to sample other things. She turned her gaze up, watching after Dora and then glanced around to check after the hounds and horses. Polt has led the other horses to an area where the grass is at least passably tasty, and the group of steeds, now joined by Hadrian's, are comfortably eating lightly. Briarsting and Stormtredder are slowly circling the encamped group, the younger Briarsting occasionally giving a glance in Brieanne's direction as she prepares her food. Galen is somewhat hesitant at first, finally choosing to sample some of the fish with a bit of bread. Hadrian on the other hand, takes some of everything, chatting amicably about the food. "Try the saft. Its not akvavit, but I figured we should keep our heads." Hadrian explains. Above him, dipping and rising on the currents of the wind, Dora calmly continues to fly above the group, but not above the level of the canopy. For the moment, the group is at peace. Enjoying the moment's respite, Brieanne had a bit of the fruit as well and sampled the drink before setting out some treats for her 'boys'. When her palate was satisfied she stood up and stretched. "I'm going to see what I can see and give Dora her turn." Briar and Smoke move in at the prospect of food. They sniff the food suspiciously at first, and then begin to dine. Hadrian and Galen engage in some light conversation in the meantime. She headed back up into the canopy, enjoying the climb and the feeling of a comfortably full tummy. The climb is only made with the minor and modest difficulty that one has in activity after a good meal. Still, Brieanne's familiarity with trees makes the trek upward a trivial task. She finally reaches the top with the gorgeous view of the sky, and Hadrian's bonded companion swoops in a lazy arc not long after Brieanne's emergence. "Needed thome exercise?" Dora asks, perching on a free branch of the canopy. "Or did you come to thee our visitor?" "Came to see our visitor and give you a chance to grab a bite to eat." Brieanne replied. "Sshe's a big one." Dora says, The shape that Brieanne had spotted has made progress in approaching, and is now large enough that she can make out the shape and decide what it is. Two legs, reptilian, and winged. A poisonous sting in its long tail. Not quite as large as a dragon. Dora is a small, miniature version of the creature flying around. Its a Wyvern. "Oh dear." She took another hard look. "Isn't that what they summoned up last night to send after us?" "Yess." Dora says. "Larger than the forest Wyverns in DuMarque." she adds. The Wyvern slowly continues its circling motion, growing ever closer. It doesn't seem to have seen Brieanne and Dora, its focus, now that Brieanne can see it, is mostly the area right below it as it dips and spirals along. "Hmm... it's going to cause a problem when we try to head out." Brieanne frowned thoughfully. "Any guesses on our being able to reason with it, or should I just get backup?" "I don't know how intelligent these Chaosian breeds are." Dora says doubtfully, twirling around Brieanne to get a better look at it. "If it is like the forest Wyverns back home, it is not much more intelligent than most animals. No real language skills, Brieanne." "Much less intelligent than *me*" she says with an obvious tone of pride. "THAT I didn't doubt." Brieanne said, smiling. "But I have to wonder if it's orders are simply to hunt and report, or hunt and attack." "I will keep watch up here for its movementss." Dora says. She started climbing back down, ready to get the other's comments on what they were willing to risk before she brought in help. The climb back down to the ground is of no difficulty. By the time she has, Hadrian and Galen have cleaned up traces of their picnic. While the former looks to the horses, the latter turns to address Brieanne once she reaches the ground beneath the great tree. "That creature you saw still hunts us, yes?" Galen asks. "Yes, and I suspect it's going to make leaving her very difficult. I'm of a mind to fight fire with fire, but that will take me a moment and I can't make guarantees." She glanced back up, wary and listening even though she trusted Dora to warn them before it was suddenly incoming. If Brieanne just strains her sight looking up, she can see something moving, which given its size must be Dora. There is no visual evidence of the Wyvern as yet. "Fire with Fire." Hadrian puts in from his spot near his horse. "You have an ally of some sort? A Hippogriff?" he asks tentatively. And then with a slight bit of reverence. "A...Griffin?" The smile that began to color her expression was wryly amused, since what she was thinking didn't sport feathers and was larger in scale. And before Brieanne can answer there is a reptilian cry, bellowing, from the sky. Brieanne jumped at the sound, twisting sharply to look up. The wyvern should not have gotten so close so fast. Where was Dora? Her hands flew to her bow as she readied her own cry to summon her creatures into the shelter of the tree. Briarsting and Smoketredder need little prompting to move for Brieanne's command. Both growl; the latter intersperses angry barks upward. Polt has already led the other two horses closer in as well. "Dora?" Hadrian says, in a piping voice. The only response is a falling object that falls and bounces. Hadrian catches it as it bounces off the last branches and falls into view. Long, thin and sharp. Doubtless one of the more martial cousins could tell exactly what sort of type it is. However, what it is is clear to Brieanne as Hadrian catches it. It's a sword. "Dora..." Hadrian says, holding the sword and looking at it. And the cry of the Wyvern comes again. It now becomes clear to Brieanne that the Wyvern isn't close so much as it is loud and bellowing. However, this next cry shows that the creature is drawing nearer. "And while we deal with him... they get to go where ever they please. Which is likely straight to Arden's front step." "It would be a sound strategy." Galen agrees. Hadrian gives a curt nod of the head in agreement. Brieanne fingered her bow, scowling up at the beast, and then put her back to the trunk of the tree. Letting it catch her weight, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath to try and relax as she turned her attention inward to the web of lives she was connected to. Like the trees who spun webs through the forest, these strands reached out to others and she sought one in particular. Into the tree she reaches . A great tree, like the one in Silveredleaves, or the one in Arden. A good place to begin, to spin those webs of life, even if its a new place to her.
Nothing seems to work at first. No sign, no inclination, no twinkling that there is any contact with the Dragon. She drew another deep breath and let it escape in a long, soft sigh. No sound crossed her lips, but the leaves above danced as she sang his True Name. Names have power. True Names have real power, especially the True Name of a Dragon. The True Name of a Dragon who is Real is truly powerful. As Brieanne emits the song, and the leaves dance, there is an unnatural chill that runs underneath the tree. The chill of loss. The chill of Death itself. Galen visibly shivers, and Hadrian does as well. And as the Wyvern cries out again, Brieanne knows. It is certain that the Dragon has heard his Name, and will come. Gaze heavenward, Brieanne stepped away from the tree. "Now. To keep you at bay long enough for you to be dealt with. Then, we deal with your Masters." The smile was feral, and after a turn to study the branches, she selected a vantage point and climbed toward it. She kept the bow in hand, drawing an arrow and watching the sky. Waiting. The chill which was coincident with the utterance of Gaz's name seems to pass from Hadrian and Galen. Both try and settle down the horses, and with less success, the hounds, as Brieanne climbs to her vantage point. About a third up the tree, she finds a spot with a decent view of the sky. With a drawn arrow, Brieanne is ready for the next shriek from the Wyvern. However, as she spots the creature through the view to the sky, the converse is true as well. The horned head of the creature dips down to see Brieanne and her drawn bow with calumny yellow eyes, and the creature emits a shriek of frustration at Brieanne's relative inaccessibility. If the Wyvern, like so many Dragons, had a breath weapon, it surely would be washing over Brieanne right now. Brieanne fixed the shot, and let the arrow fly - testing its armor - and prepared to change location. As much as she watched the beast, she kept an eye on what it was doing with the tail. The arrow flies straight and true and is faster than the Wyvern can react. It strikes between two of the scales just below the eye, in the cheek of the creature. With a howl of rage, the Wyvern shrieks again. Brieanne catches out of the corner of her eye the tail of the beast, arcing down and through the trees, seeking to strike, sting, poison and kill the creature that had the temerity to wound it, even lightly. Having anticipated that, she dropped away from the beast, retreating deeper into the web of branches and out of reach unless it was going to try and dive in after her. Given the lack of wing room, even for a creature of only its size, she doubted it would do that without great need. Or rage. But she didn't think it was there just yet. Brieanne is fast enough that she is several meters below the the stabbing motion of the tail by the time the Wyvern manages to get it in position. There is no doubt that it would have struck Brieanne squarely had she remained in place. Safe for a moment, she glanced down to see what the others were up to. The Wyvern, above her, makes ineffectual attempts to penetrate further down into the tree to find its prey. From the security of the lower, more inaccessible perch in the banyan, Brieanne can spare the time and opportunity to look in on her companions. There is no sight of any of them save the hounds Polt, the horses, Galen and Hadrian are all nowhere to be found. Only Briarsting and Smoketredder remain at the base, barking loyally at the creature. And then, from the edge of the Banyan tree, Brieanne hears a sharp whistle. Its unclear if its Galen or Hadrian. The whistle comes again, sharp. The Wyvern screeches again, loudly, and then starts rising and moving toward the sound of the whistle. Brieanne tracked it, moving through the branches, watching for a clean shot. And as far as the Lord of Midnight...Brieanne can feel that he is approaching nearer and nearer, but has not yet arrived. "Careful with your risks." She advises, talking so that her voice carried, though she didn't raise it to a shout. Brieanne's eyes can follow the creature as it flies. It seems to have ignored the inaccessible prey that is Brieanne for the moment in favor of whatever Galen or Hadrian are up to that has attracted it. Another whistle is the vocal answer to Brieanne's warning. Now Brieanne is pretty sure that its Hadrian, and not Galen who is doing the whistling. Near the edge of the cover of the tree, Brieanne sees one, very quick opportunity for another arrow shot, this time at one of the creature's wings. If she dares of course, to attract the Wyvern's attention once again. She dared. Balanced on a branch, immune to the sway and seeming oblivious to the height, she let another arrow fly. Keeping it chasing one, then another, never able to quite reach any of them seemed to her a very good tactic for the moment. The arrow's flight is as accurate as the previous shot Brieanne took, with the arrow striking the wing right on one of its ribs. With a shriek of anger, the Wyvern pulls up its flight toward the whistling Hadrian and with decent aerial maneuverability, corkscrews downward to try and find Brieanne once again with jaws or sting or both. A drop of ichor from the wound falls past Brieanne like a fat raindrop. Branches and leaves of the tree shudder as the head pushes toward Brieanne, and the tail in concert as the Wyvern lowers itself down toward Brieanne. Dropping down another level, Brieanne darted across a fat branch, putting a tree sized bulk between her and the wyvern. She crouched in a sheltered spot, ready to move again if she needed to, but ready to let it get distracted as well. The Wyvern's head pushes down as far as it dares, close but not too close to Brieanne, with most of the tree between her and the Wyvern's weapons. The tail is more agile, and gets close enough for Brieanne to actually see. The Wyvern thrusts with the tail again and again, in an effort to connect with Brieanne. It gets closer and closer, and with a sudden jolt it rushes forward, fast, toward where Brieanne is... Unwilling to descend to the ground, Brieanne moved laterally through the tree, scooting over, around and across branches, where the tangle of wood kept the wyvern at the disadvantage. The Wyvern's tail narrowly misses Brieanne as she just manages to escape its swath. And then there is a not a whistle, but rather a roar, from the sky, a familiar, deafening roar not from a dragon, but a king of dragons. "Feathers of the Griffin!" comes an exclamation from the direction where Galen and Hadrian seem to be. The Wyvern shrieks, and gives up trying to reach Brieanne, disengaging itself rapidly from the Banyan. 'ooo... you're cooked now.' She was wary, not wanting to distract it at the expense of getting stung by it, but she couldn't resist chasing after it. Climbing up through the canopy, she looked for an easy shot, but making certain she stayed out of Gazalarnith's way. Thanks to Brieanne's lateral movements to escape the Wyvern's strikes, it takes a little longer than it did previously for her to find an optimal path back up to the top of the canopy. In the meantime, the sounds of shrieks and roars provide a soundtrack to what she cannot see. And, then, soon enough, she can. In the sky above her, above the mighty banyan tree, the Wyvern darts around, angrily, like a tomcat facing off against a husky. The husky, in this scenario is a dragon. Large, black, gleaming and magnificent against the sky, Brieanne has a view to the Wyvern and the Dragon facing off. The Wyvern is fast, and somewhat more nimble than the Dragon. It even manages to nearly get a sting into the wing of the mighty dragon before Gazalarnith, for that is the dragon, manages to swing away. It would be a much more difficult shot for Brieanne to try and hit the Wyvern this time. Snarling, Brieanne climbed up to the highest boughs, planted her feet in the last crooks of the trunk and stood tall. With the wind in her face and the sun in her hair, she drew the bowstring to her ear and followed the wyvern's flight. It might go for her, but that would leave it open to attack. It could ignore her, but Gaz might be able to lift free, leaving her with a line of sight to fire through. Or it could flee in the hopes that the dragon would have a new, tastier target and let it go. She was willing to take her chances. The aerial dogfight between the Wyvern and the Dragon continues its furious dance across the sky as Brieanne gets to the top of the Banyan. To this point, Brieanne's arrival has been ignored by both aerial combatants and she can get the bow armed as Gaz and the Wyvern duel. Again and again, Gaz's ability allows him to escape the Wyvern's stings, but the Wyvern's natural maneuverability and size allows it to escape the jaws and claws of the mighty dragon. And then Brieanne's arrow launches. The Wyvern has all of its attention in dodging the dragon, and so the arrow strikes in a relatively unarmored spot in the torso where the right leg joins the body. With a scream, the Wyvern turns toward the source of the pain, and the shot is clearly a painful one. The Wyvern tries to dodge the dragon in an attempt to get closer to the archer which has struck it several times now, but with its wound, its advantage in maneuverability is cut enough that it cannot escape a passing swipe by Gaz's claws, ripping across the upper forequarters. As Gaz turns away to make another run, the Wyvern is open once more to archery from Brieanne, caught out in the open and a much easier target this time. Taking full advantage, Brieanne remained where she was, drew another arrow and aimed into the bloody rent in the wyverns armored chest. There was a nagging worry that she was going to need to get out of the way very soon, but it all depended on where, and how, the wyvern went down and it would be poor form to dodge too soon. The rent is not a large target. However, Brieanne's skill, and the Wyvern's inability to maneuver work well in her favor. Gaz finishes his lazy arc by the time Brieanne launches the shot. The shot is as close to perfect as it can be, given the random variables of the situation. The Wyvern screams and then gurgles as the arrow plunges into its chest and strikes some vital organ, perhaps its heart or a lung. The creature loses its motive force for flight, its wings losing their power rapidly. Out of control and unable to maneuver, the Wyvern's momentum carries it in Brieanne's direction, but in a descending arc that Brie judges should fall just short of her perch. Behind the sinking, dying Wyvern, there is a roar of appreciative triumph from the dragon. Brieanne shifted her weight in the slender upper branches, waiting for the impact and sorry that it was going to damage the tree, but crowing aloud for the victory. Holding the bow aloft, she looked up to make eye contact with Gazalarnith, smiling broadly. As the Wyvern continues its glide toward a crash, there is a cheer from the ground, in two voices, and barks as well in the bargain. The Wyvern hits the tree short of Brieanne, its momentum and mass carrying it deep into the tree like a heavy stone dropped onto one of the ornamental bushes in the Castle's gardens. As Brieanne makes eye contact with the dragon, the dragon makes a motion of the head down to the ground. Brieanne's knowledge of Gaz allows her to understand the body language: Shall I join you and your friends on the ground? Brieanne lifted her arms, reaching for the dragon. They could settle on the ground in a moment, but first she wanted to fly.... Gaz seems to understand and accede to the request. Although he is not as nimble as the fallen Wyvern, he slows his wings to a soft beat of wind as he approaches, and comes within range of Brieanne's arms to climb on him and onto his back. Brieanne sprang up the moment he was within reach, scurrying up to the space between his wings. Once she is securely on him, Gaz starts another flight, curling up high into the sky, sweeping over the edges of the Banyan and to the flatlands beyond. Below her, as figures receding in size as she rises, Brieanne can see Galen, Hadrian, Polt, her hounds, and the horses. Galen offers a hand in salute, and Hadrian waves. "Now, Brieanne..." rumbles the dragon, his voice gravelly on the wind caused by their flight as he continues to soar. "How did you find yourself facing such a creature?" She waved back to Hadrian and Galen. "I managed to infuriate some Chaosians who figured it was a good way to kill me or at least really slow me down. Apparently it's been hunting for us since last night, but we only just returned." She leaned as she spoke, looking toward where the camp had been and expecting to see nothing more than worn ground where the host had marched out. "A hunter-killer. These Chaosians equivalent of a hunting hound." Gaz rumbles. "Or the spiders that the dark Sidhe like to use. A clever use for such a beast. I am pleased I arrived in time before it caused you and yours more difficulty." "I've met the one down there, with dark hair, at your Ball. The Dragon-friend." Gaz adds, as he swoops around and increases his speed with a beat of the wings, giving his rider a thrill. "The other looks Fae, although of no kind of which I am familiar. Who is he?" the Dragon asks. "Yes, Hadrian." Brieanne replied, squeaking with delight at the rush. She catches her breath and finishes. "The other is Galen, a Moonrider. He and his made off with Carl and another cousin and I went to fetch him back and Galen came along when we realized that what the Moonriders thought and what really is doesn't have so much in common as it ought. The skew in time between us and them might have something to do with the Omphalos and its worth it to everyone to look into it. So, he's with us a bit while we wait for other things to happen with king and queens and the like." "A *Moonrider*." Gazalarnith rumbles the word, in an outward sign that Brieanne can associate with thought and recollection. "I have heard tales of Moonriders, although I know not if he is of their kind. Fae who walk beneath the moon, who work magic of darkness, moonlight and shadow. Fierce, prideful warriors." "Two of the female Twilight Dragons, Adelind and Tanis, have had dealings with the Moonriders that I know. If Galen's people is of the same stock, he will know those names." "And you are right." Gaz adds in a rumble, banking in a long curving downward arc. "The machinations of the Omphalos are worth bringing unusual allies into the fold to counter." "You can test him on that." Brieanne smiled, still looking for any sign of her quarry. "I think though, for now, I need make some haste back to Arden. That's the most likely overland route to Amber, and I would rather be there before they are. Father will likely need warned, as well." She frowned, and twisted to look back to Hadrian and the others. " If your eyes have finished their survey." Gaz rumbles, "let us land so that you and yours might return to your forest with speed. It would be preferable to intercept or await these forces, would it not?" From the perch of Gaz, there doesn't seem to be any real sign of the army. A wisp of rising smoke on the distant horizon, on the plain might be a sign of forces beyond the singular Wyvern. However, besides that bare mark of habitation, there is no one of import that Brieanne can see, save of course for Hadrian, Galen and the hounds. "Shall we land or investigate?" Gaz prompts, apparently seeing what Brieanne has herself spotted. "While we have the advantage of speed and height, investigate." Brieanne urged, leaning forward into the wind and holding on securely. "Let us see, then." Gaz says in a rumble of speech. His wings beat faster and faster as he increases the already good speed that he is managing in the skies. The large Banyan falls behind, as the spot where the wisp of smoke appeared grows closer and closer. Brieanne, and Gaz, begin to make out things in miniature, given the height that Gaz has over the spot. Its not the camp in full that Brieanne and company visited, this is clearly a scout camp of some kind, given that there are only about a half dozen man-sized figures. Seeing Gaz, some of them point upward, even from this height in obvious alarm, and begin to scatter from the center of their camp, some sort of campfire turned smoke signal, the source of the wisp of smoke. Brieanne wrestled with the point and then wrentched herself away. "It's amusing to make them scatter, and I'd really like to know more... but we need to find the main group." She admitted, twisting to look back in the Banyan's direction. "We should return, and we'll hunt from Arden out." "They are likely too smart to be very near to the main group." the dragon says, with a gravelly tone of regret. He makes a wide bank of a turn, the figures on the ground still trying to find cover or a spot to make a stand. Brieanne gets a creepy-crawly feeling from below, briefly, as the dragon beats his wings and Gaz carries them away from the scout camp, and back toward the Banyan. Fifty yards from the cover of the Banyan, Gaz comes in for a landing, coming to rest without dislodging his passenger in the process. Under the cover of the trees, Hadrian waves and Galen salutes. The hounds, and Polt are somewhat more unsure about Brieanne's large friend. The presence of the Dragon is enough, it seems for Dora to resume her normal form, swiftly changing from sword to Wyvernet on Hadrian's shoulder. Leaving the animals to gather their nerve, Brieanne focused on her human compatriots. "There's a scout camp just a bit away, but the main group have gone. I want to return to Arden and head toward here, from there. We should be able to intercept them, and you might be able to pick up a feel for them while you're shifting." She looked at Hadrian. "The use of their power might be noticeable, especially against an active Pattern." "So you want us to interpose and stand astride their progress?" Hadrian asks. "An interdiction?" Galen clarifies. "Oh." Another thought brought her up short. "This is Galen," She looked over her shoulder to Gaz, pointing toward the Moonrider, "and you remember Hadrian and Dora." Hadrian looks completely baffled by this. Galen gives a bow in the direction of the Dragon. Her gesture included them and then she turned her attention to Galen. "This is Gazalarnith." Bafflement on Hadrian's face turns to enlightened shock. He looks at Brieanne, then at the Dragon, and then back at Brieanne again. "The same?" he asks. Brieanne looked from Hadrian, to the dragon looming over her, and back at Hadrian. "How many Gazes do you think there are?" She grinned as if he were silly and returned to the former subject. Hadrian manages to close his mouth. Dora gives off a hiss, but not a hostile one. The Dragon in response gives off a not very hostile sound that suggests its an answer to something vocalized by Dora. Galen looks from Hadrian to Brieanne and back to Hadrian. "How many dragons are you acquainted with?" he asks, somewhat rhetorically. "My people are familiar with a few, mostly from legend. None quite as mighty as this one." Gaz blinks large eyes. Hadrian doesn't answer either, and instead lets Brieanne continue to speak. "I don't intend to do anything except find them, I think listening for their power will help with that." She shrugged. "Once we find them... yeah, then I'm standing in the way until they explain themselves." "Shall we?" She rolled her shoulders. "Do you have a Trump to Arden already up your sleeves?" Hadrian is sufficiently recovered that he turns to look at Brieanne. "Do you think I would have found the time and opportunity to do trumps in and around Amber?" he asks, with a bit of a smile. "Of coursse he did!" Dora pipes up. Hadrian bobs his head. "I have one of your father's big house, where the hounds chased Bishop in the library." Hadrian gives a sidelong glance to Briarsting and Smoketredder. The two have slowly made their way closer to the group, and by extension, the dragon. "I haven't had so much time as to do many others...yet." Hadrian adds. "Certainly none of you...sir." Hadrian says to Gaz. The Dragon gives a nod of the head. "Hmm...." Brieanne's attention wanders. "In the house won't work so well, so we'll go my way." She held the bow up and out, activated the Trump, and pushed to open a full gate. Hadrian gives a nod and a slightly frown. "And you might not want to tackle a Trump of Him." She tilted her head in Gazalarnith's direction with half a smile. "He won't fit on a card, after all." Beyond the Trump lay the depths of Arden, the ground deeply shaded with only the occasional dappling on the lower branches above them. "And I think, if you want to know the ones I could name and probably approach, the answer is six." She looked at Galen, "but the last one.... I'd need a really good reason to tread near his lair." She wrinkled her nose distastefully and handed them all through the Trump, whistling for the horses and hounds and giving them time to get through before Gaz went through. She followed after, taking one last peek back before the Gate closed. In a line, Hadrian and Dora go first, followed by the Moonrider, Polt and the horses, and then finally the Dragon. Brieanne can step through, to the dappled spot in Arden that the trump on the bow leads to, at Silveredleaves. "A heart of the forest?" Galen asks, looking at Brieanne once she has come through. To Brieanne's point of view, a strange tableau of characters, Hadrian, Galen, Polt and the hounds stand in front of the mighty dragon. "From one great tree to another." Hadrian observes. "A heart of the Forest?" Galen asks. Brieanne looked back and shrugged, choosing not to comment. "The road is there," she pointed, "it's a bit of a ride to the border. I don't know if you would want begin Shifting before we reach it. Gaz and I can track you from above. We should be able to keep up even once you start." "Well, it will be a challenge to try and shift this close to Amber, from what I have been told." Hadrian says. "However, we shall try and do the best we can, right Dora?" "Yesss." Dora says sibilantly. Hadrian turns his horse toward the road, ready to depart. "Consider it stretching your ability." She smiled. "Would not you flying on the dragon in Arden draw undue attention?" Galen asks Brieanne before Hadrian has a change "Would that not alert your brother, or the rest of your family? Or alarm them?" The Dragon just laughs, a rumbling sound. "Come, Brieanne. Climb aboard. Time is wasting." "Ohhh...." Brieanne answered, the toes of one foot braced on the dragon's arm, ready to make the scramble for his back. "Probably." She grinned at Galen, winked and leaped into place. Holding her bow low and tight, she leaned forward, ducking a bit to protect her face, and pressed her knees in to hold on. "Ready." She announced, and braced for take off. Take off is more impressive for those on the ground than the previous time Brieanne flew the dragon, for Hadrian and Galen get to see the dragon soar into flight. With a rush of wings the dragon is in the air and climbs high into the sky. The sun is moving toward sunset at this stage and Gaz circles around to find the path that Brieanne had pointed out to Hadrian and Galen. Below, she can see the two of them, and the hounds, make their way to the path and onto it. Gaz dips toward the ground to better track the son of Gerard and the Moonrider. Brieanne does not sense any change in shadow for the first few minutes of flight, as Gaz's wings slowly beat in order not to overfly their companions on the ground. However, when the shift finally comes, Brieanne sees it as a gradual change in the landscape. The trees begin to thin out, change their ratios, and in general the Great Forest begins to fragment. "The air smells differently here." the dragon rumbles. "We're not in Arden anymore." Brieanne answered. "He's started shifting. I don't know how far out we'll have to go to intercept them. I also don't know if he'll really be able to sense them. I would think, since what they do is different, that so much power and so many people should be noticeable. But I guess we'll find out." "I did not feel the shift." Gaz replies thoughtfully. "Only by these clues would I suspect a change in shadow." In the meantime, from her vantage point, she searched as far as her eyes could see for anything that looked like a large group of questionable people. There is no sign of a group of questionable people, large, small or otherwise for a couple of hours of what is now afternoon light. It might be because after the initial shift from Hadrian, there isn't that much shifting that she can notice based on the terrain. Gaz, too, does not remark often on changes in the shadowshifting. And then it happens all at once. After one of those shifts, Hadrian and Galen suddenly stop their advancement and out of the corner of her eye, Hadrian can see one of the two waving at the pair of them enthusiastically. They can't possibly see the group from here thanks to the cover of the trees, but from the vantage point she enjoys Brieanne can see that near the horizon is a large column of moving figures, moving down the same road that Hadrian, Galen, Polt and the hounds are on. "They smell of arcane power." Gaz rumbles. "Of wizards and warlocks who have dared look for my lair." "The taint of power has their attention, too." Brieanne looked down at Hadrian and Galen. She studied the column moving toward them and then leaned. "We should land. I should join them ... since this was my brilliant plan, and all, it would be right if I were on point. We can move back a bit, hopefully they haven't made much of you yet, and we can get down without cluing them in." "There are no signs of those Wyverns they use." Gazalarnith rumbles. "Good!" Brieanne nodded, taking every plus they had. And then she tried to clear her mind, gave up as anticipation made her edgy, and Trumped Hadrian. It takes an extra moment or two for Brieanne to clear her mind of distractions. Gaz takes up a holding pattern over the spot where Hadrian and Galen have stopped. Once the contact starts, however, being a fellow artist allows Hadrian to answer easily and quickly. "Brieanne!" he says. His gaze remains forward. "We feel the spoor of those Chaosians, not far away from here." "No," Brieanne agreed, "they aren't. We can see them." "They may soon be able to see you, then." Hadrian says. Brieanne glanced toward the host and nodded. She gave Gaz a full body hug. "I'm going down to them. I need to be there to talk, and you've got more leverage from up here." She leaned forward and around, making eye contact with the dragon. She didn't like the thought of him having to take off from the ground if something went badly. "You want me to remain in the sky in case of trouble." Brieanne nodded. There is a clouded look to the Dragon's eyes. "I mislike this idea. I reserve the right to extricate you from the situation if necessary." he rumbles. Brieanne smiled broadly. "As if anyone in their right mind would disagree with you." She gave him another hug and turned back to Hadrian. "Bring me through." She reached her hand to Hadrian, timing Gaz's circling so she stepped through without knocking into anyone. Brieanne's clever response to Gaz's momentum manages to allow her to step through without falling over. Between Hadrian and Galen, though, she manages to stay vertical, although the transition does cause some dizziness as the world seems to spin around her feet. "Easy, cousin, we have you." Hadrian says soothingly as the dizziness and disorientation slowly right themselves. "That's.... a rush..." Brieanne tried to get her eyes to fix on a point, slowly orienting. When she felt better, she took a good look around and frowned slightly. "We might want to move further back..." She looked deeper into the trees, glanced back toward the host again, and the frown deepened. "I think we should move further back. The deeper the Green, the more leverage I have." "You want more trees." Galen says simply. Brieanne nodded. "Do you think you can you keep us, and Gaz, just ahead of them?" She looked at Hadrian quizzically. "We don't need to retreat all the way to Arden, we're close enough, but I'd be more comfortable with old wood behind me. One Shadow might do it...." She offered, hoping it would be as easy as that. "I get the feeling that I should have asked Grandfather for my long promised suit of Wyvern scale armor." Hadrian says wryly. "We can back up, certainly. I don't know how fast they are shifting or how often. If we can go faster, we'll reach deeper trees before they overtake us." "I'll do it." Hadrian adds, trying to sound confident. Dora gives a hiss of support. Briarsting then gives off a low growl in the direction of the Chaosian host. "Close enough to smell them." Galen comments. "If he smells them, they don't smell us." Brieanne shot a look toward the host and moved back, leading even though it was Hadrian who needed to do the work. "Make sure you don't lose Gaz," she repeated, not wanting the dragon vexed, and pulled out her Trump deck, shuffling through to her father's card. She layered Bleys' beneath it and waited to get situated again. "I have no intention of drawing the Dragon's ire." Hadrian replies with a nod. Dora gives off a hiss of agreement. "Good." Galen adds seriously. "I would rather not ride with a man who has angered a Dragon." "No...." Brieanne mused, keeping most of her attention on what was around them. "Dragon fire is not an exact weapon." Hadrian turns around his horse and begins following Brieanne's horse. Smoketredder and Briarsting, after the latter gives a huff in the direction of the unseen host, fall into line with Brieanne upon Polt. Galen takes up the rear. Like a cruciform shape, the dragon flies above the trio of riders and their companions. And the world around them changes, the trees becoming thicker, denser, more Arden like. More Arboreal. A glance upward by Brieanne comfirms that Hadrian has, fortunately, not lost the Dragon in the process. Perched lightly, Brieanne twisted one way and then the other, open to minute differences between where they were and where she felt she needed to be, but she kept her comments to herself, letting Hadrian get a feel for what he was doing. Satisfied that the group remained together, she glanced between Hadrian, the dragon above, and the hounds by her feet. One of them would detect the Chaosians before she did, and then she drew out her father's card and concentrated. The contact takes a half minute of concentration, as the group continues its progress back toward Arden. The Chaosians do not appear to yet be in range of the senses of the dragon, or Hadrian, or Galen, as the trump opens to Julian. He's just outside of the home in the forest. He looks past Brieanne, his eyes clearly noting Hadrian and Galen. He probably can't see the dragon, though. "Yes, Brieanne?" Julian says neutrally, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Things are afoot." She glanced away from her father, wary. Another check of those around and above and she turned back to the Trump. "There are Chaosians dragging themselves through Shadow toward Arden. They aren't a large enough force to be a serious military threat..." she paused to consider. "Unless they're hiding something." She mused on that another second and shrugged. Julian looks wary and not amused. He listens patiently. "I intend to meet them still a Shadow out from Arden, but it's a matter of staying ahead of their path and being in the way, which isn't very exact for us. Since they look like they're trying to be nice about the approach, I'm hoping they'll stop to chat. I thought you should know." She smiled, a lopsided grin for the understatement, and then glanced around again, looking to see where Hadrian had gotten them. "I was warned in a roundabout and indirect way that a delegation, I believe he called it, was approaching. He did not mention it was Chaosians." Julian's expression is dour. It's also calculating. Brieanne can read her father well enough that he's even now calculating a plan and orders for her. "You have Hadrian there with you." he says. "Who is that other rider?" he asks. "Galen," Brieanne answered simply, "and Gaz is here too." She gave a slight toss of her head, indicating 'up'. "The Moonrider and the Dragon." Julian considers this, even as his eyes briefly cast upward through the trump contact to see the dragon. "Your talent for recruiting allies, especially unusual ones is firmly intact, daughter." he says. Brieanne smiled, amused, because she'd never actually tried to do any such thing but -now that he mentioned it- she did seem to have a knack for it. "This is what I want you to do." Julian then says. "Draw our visitors to a neutral location on Arden's borders." He looks thoughtful. "The old Inn. The Sign of the Three Coins." Brieanne is familiar with the Inn. It sits at a crossroads on one of the main routes in and out of the forest on the way to Begma. "Keep them there until I arrive to negotiate. With those allies and your talents, I am sure you can manage that." Julian finishes. "I should hope so." Brieanne agreed. "Now, to just see if Hadrian can help herd them..." She pursed her lips, looking from her father to the cousin in question. "How is my nephew doing with that?" Julian asks. "Well." "Good." Julian replies simply. "See you soon." She glanced back at her father and allowed the contact to close. And so the contact closes. "Daddy wants them somewhere neutral." She guided Polt closer to Hadrian. "On your way in, did you pass an inn with three coins dropping on its sign?" "With Bhangbadea?" Hadrian asks. He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. "No, we didn't see an Inn on the way in to Amber. She did the shadowshifting, of course." "However." he brightens. "Luckily, I took a look at a few maps when I had a chance in the library. I remember an Inn at a crossroad near to Arden. It didn't mention its name." "Just that it was a crosssroads Inn." Dora agrees. Galen moves a little closer to listen but does not offer any comment. "The Sign of the Three Coins." Brieanne informed them, concentrating on the direction their 'guests' were coming from. "We'll draw them there... though I suppose we should make certain we still have them...." "So we need to retreat to this Inn at a rate fast enough not to be caught, but slow enough that they will follow us." Galen speaks up. "We have to play the fox to their hound" Hadrian says, looking at Brieanne. "Don't we?" "Assuming they want the hunt," Brieanne smiled "but we may have to be more like honey to bears and lure them in sweetly. We'll play with it. Assuming we have the wiggle room." She looked back toward where the host should be coming from, with a glance at the hounds. Smoketredder gives Brieanne a patient, loyal look. Briarsting, on the other hand, keeps looking in the direction of the Chaosian Host."Technically, we should be able to simply put the Inn in their way, but I'm afraid I can't offer you practical advice on that." "Well." Hadrian says with a smile. "My Father will send you a thank you note for giving me all this practice with the imprint." "Or he'll not so quietly want to throttle me for dragging you out to where dreadful things could happen without a wit of experience between us." She said it seriously, but she seemed gleeful at the prospect. "You probably know him better than I to judge." Hadrian replies. A slight movement of the shadow of Gaz above them is the first tip off. The next is a growling from Briarsting. And Brieanne can hear the slight rustling of leaves of the nearby trees as another clue. "I believe we should get moving." Galen interjects. "Those are our cues." Brieanne agreed, nudging Poltergeist closer to Hadrian's mount. "You need to call it. Try to put the Inn on their Path, or lure them? I can give you all the details you want, or I can ride between you and them to help tease them along, but the manipulation is all you." Hadrian considers Brieanne for a long moment. "It would be best if you kept them following us." Hadrian says. "Its more dangerous, but I am not certain I can put the Inn in their path or ours." "Get them on our trail and I will get us all to the Inn. Chaosians included." Hadrian finishes. Smoketredder adds his growl to his younger sibling's. "Lets hope they feel up for a chase." She winked, moving Polt back away from the others. "I'll be right behind you." She turned, keeping Hadrian in her periphery while she watched the horizon for signs of the host's leading edge and scouts. Hadrian leads, with Galen giving Brieanne a single glance before falling into line behind him. "It's like swimming," Brieanne commented, offering a bit of encouragement. "Lots of things to remember, but you can do this." "I think its slightly more difficult than swimming, but the point is well taken." Hadrian says as he sets off. Brieanne's vigil for scouts and the vanguard of the Chaosian force is a relatively short one. Whether it is a creature or simply one of the Chaosians in another form is not clear. However, Smoke and Briar growl and see the scout a fraction before Brieanne, a few dozen yards away. It's about the size of a moderately sized horse. The being is reptilian, six legged, with a scaled torso and a head like that of a centaur, except with a quartet of arms Its snake like head looks in Brieanne's direction, a forked tongue sticking out to smell and scent the air, and presumably, Brieanne as well. It raises one of the arms, whether this is a gesture to the host or to Brieanne is not quite clear. What is clear, however, is that Brieanne and company have officially been spotted. Brieanne regarded it steadily, making eye contact, and then calmly rode after Hadrian and Galen, trusting Poltergeist's very wide range of vision to spot if the thing rushed them even if she and the hounds failed to hear it. That, and she trusted the hounds to look back while she focused on the road ahead of them. There was a brief temptation to look up, but she resisted. Polt doesn't react, and neither do the hounds, at least more than they already are, as she follows Hadrian and Galen. "Come on...." She whispered, listening intently. At a slight bend in the road, where line of sight would be obscured, she looked back to see what it had gotten up to. With senses visual, auditory, olfactory and those more exotic, Brieanne, Polt and the hounds are alert for the movements and the reactions of the six legged scout and the rest of the Chaosians. She is not disappointed. Although not pursuing recklessly, the thudding sound of feet against the path is unmistakable. Its pace is slightly faster than the pace formerly set by Brieanne, and its approaching inexorably, seeking to cautiously close the distance. It will be here within a minute at the most. It's unclear if the host is following in its wake. Also, there is a tingle of something in the air to Brieanne's more arboreal connections. It has turned unexpectedly dry here, too dry for a late March day after a typical winter. She suspected that it was Hadrian working... perhaps not successfully, but Brieanne had a sudden intimation of what this might look like to Gazalarnith, and if he fried the creature behind her, diplomacy was going to be much more difficult. So, she turned Polt to an angle, got the creature in her line of sight. "I do hope you've told your friends to join us." She called out a greeting, projecting, but not quite yelling. "Anything less would be rather rude." She let Polt prance a few steps, almost dancing in place, and then she continued on her way. There is a call back from the creature. Its not in any language that Brieanne knows, although the strange accent does seem familiar, similar to the voices of the Chaosians whom she previously encountered. Brieanne hears the beats of the creature pick up, and then a shout from it, in the unfamiliar, chthonic language. A minute or so later, a warning shot flies across her head. A bolt of some kind disturbs Brieanne's hair with its passage and strikes a tree just ahead of her. The missile looks like a golden arrow as it quivers in the trunk where it struck. The shout, in the exact same syllables, comes again. This time, though, Brieanne hears more than just the hoofbeats from the six legged scout. Many more hoofbeats."See. We knew they wanted to play." Brieanne chirped to her mount, who looked less cheerful than his rider and gladly leaped to the right when she signaled. Forest born and nimble, Poltergeist abandoned the road and hurtled through the trees, the hounds fanning out to either side and giving him ample room to maneuver. Not that he needed it. While Poltergeist focused on dodging enemy fire by whatever means suited him, Brieanne focused on their Path, looking for the rut in Shadow that led to the Inn and making sure they stayed in it. Several more shots, off the mark to a wider degree than the first, bury themselves in trees and the ground around Brieanne. The rut of the Path is easy to find, since it seems that Hadrian has led Galen in a slightly wobbly path that crosses the rut again and again. Those wobbles are slowly reducing in amplitude as Hadrian keys on it, too. Then, choosing a moment when her erstwhile pursuers didn't have clear visual contact, she leaped, scampering up into the tree while the others ran on ahead, drawing the chase on bereft of the real bait. Brieanne can hear the passage of the vanguard as she climbs the tree, out of sight and away. Hadrian, Galen, Polt and the hounds are sufficient distraction that no one thinks to simply look up. Climbing swiftly, Brieanne cuddled in close to the trunk and looked up, concentrating on the Dragon. Visualizing clearly the planes of his face, the light on scales and the golden, green flecked eyes, seeking to make contact. The stress of the position and the situation makes the contact a moderately difficult one. Above the sound of hoofbeats, the cry of some sort of land bound bird, and shouts in some variant of Thari, Brieanne finally makes contact with the circling dragon. "Trouble?" Gazalarnith rumbles. "Not for the moment," Brieanne replied with a slight, breathless rush. "I just need to be certain the rest of the host is behind us, or this will all be fairly silly and I shall have to do something bold and possibly quite rash." Again, a madcap grin lit her face, as if she were looking forward to the opportunity. "And you wanted to know what I see." the Dragon rumbles. "My mad fae friend." he adds with a touch of draconic humor. "SEE!" Contact with the Dragon's mind, and the intimacy of that contact allows the Dragon to let Brieanne briefly see through his eyes . She can see the view of the forest that she enjoyed when she rode Gaz earlier. Now, the trees and forest are infested with the host from the Courts of Chaos. They look small at this height, hard to resolve into individual figures as they follow Hadrian, Galen, (and formerly Brieanne) They look like a line of ants marching toward a dollop of honey.The visual breaks and Brieanne is seeing Gaz through the trump connection normally again. For a moment, Brieanne fought to resist the urge to twist and scramble for something to hold on to as her perspective swung out into open sky with the hard ground far, far below. It was one thing to see this all from the security of his back and something else entirely to suddenly feel as if she were about to fall from a terribly height. Catching herself, she focuses, orienting and taking in the details. "All my little ducks in a row." "Yes" Gaz rumbles in agreement through the connection. She looked up at the dragon. "Now to just help bring them all to the finish nicely and keep them well behaved until Father arrives to set them straight." She grinned and blew the dragon a kiss. "I'll be in touch, but I need to hurry to keep ahead whilst I've only my own feet to carry me!" With a rumble of ascent, the trump connection ends. Keeping an eye out for the scouts and the lead edge of the host, Brieanne scurried back down the tree and set out after the others. Moving briskly, she kept an eye and ear out for movement, not wanting the scouts to return and catch her, nor did she want the host catching up when she wasn't ready for them. By the time Brieanne gets to the bottom, the scouts are well beyond the tree she climbed. In addition, the main force of the host of Chaosians is very close behind. In addition to hoofbeats and footfalls, she hears cries and calls, not all of it understandable. Its a tough position for her to be in, to keep behind the scouts and ahead of the host at the same time, and keeping everyone pointed in the same direction. There are none of those golden missiles. However, at one point, as the last descent toward the Inn begins, she hears the barking of one of the hounds. Briarsting. It seems to Brieanne that one or more of the scouts have caught up to her companions. And through the leafless trees, ahead, she can make out four of the scouts, all arrayed similarly to the one she spotted earlier, driving themselves hard and fast. Leaping up onto a branch and securing a spot up off the ground, Brieanne called to the hounds. A high whistle in descending notes, telling them not to fight. They could retreat, they could hide, but she didn't want them to engage unless they needed to defend themselves. The barking ceases immediately at the sound of the whistle that they cannot help but obey. The whistle might betray her position, but it also told her four-footed allies where she was, and they were just as likely to accidentally betray her. Returning to the ground, she watched ahead as much as behind and continued toward the inn at a brisk pace. As Brieanne continues to make her way through the forest, it does seem that her whistle has made her otherwise untraceable passage through the forest...noticed. She hears it first, a pair of breakaway figures from the vanguard behind her moving quickly toward her position from different vectors, tromping through the forest like beaters for one of Daddy's hunt. This time, however, the beaters are Chaosians...and they are looking for her. And then suddenly, the odds even somewhat. One of the two figures cries out, in pain and surprise in a flash of white light that Brieanne sees out of the corner of her eye. The unaffected second figure stops his(her?) approach toward Brieanne, still tracking her, but at a much slower pace. 'No....' Brieanne frowned slightly, looking around for the source of the attack. 'We need them to follow me...' From the place she took shelter, she slipped forward again, moving shadow to shadow just quickly enough to stay ahead, moving through the branches when they tangled thick enough over head and willing to hole up if those ahead or behind got too close. All the while she kept looking for some sign of the Inn, Hadrian, Galen and the hounds. There is no further sign of the mysterious ally who took out the scout.Her(?) aid to Brieanne only slows the progress of the second one, enough for Brieanne to regain her lead and her pace. Brieanne can comfortably continue to lead the figure on a merry chase through the greenwood. Slipping through the forest, she finds the fault line once again, and its down, down, down the contour Brieanne goes. And then she sees it. The clearing at the edge of another boss of trees. The selfsame Inn, standing at a junction of roads. And her allies. Hadrian, Galen, Polt and the hounds, moving quickly toward the Inn in the open terrain. Although she didn't catch up to them overtly, Brieanne's route through the forest was and is better than the scouts formerly in front of her, since she has caught her allies, first. Sounds back in the mass of trees suggest that Brieanne's scout, and the other scouts are close to arrival as well. Above, Gaz has risen in the sky to be much less of a visible target over this open ground. The open expanse yawned beneath naked sky and Brieanne held her position in the trees. A moment of indecision and she climbed, selecting a high, sheltered spot near the edge of the trees, but with a little wiggle room remaining. Crouching close to the trunk again, she waited for her adversaries to come into view. Waiting for the ones they needed to talk to. Hadrian, Galen, Polt and the hounds continue to cross the open terrain toward the waiting Inn, reaching the low wall that encircles the Inn and forms a compound around it. They are nearly there when Brieanne hears the Chaosian scouts approaching the edge of the forest, just below her. Uncertainly and unwarily, the scouts stop close to the edge of the forest, looking out at the Inn and their quarry warily. Behind these first scouts, more and higher ranked Chaosians are quickly approaching. There is a scattering of chatter in that strange language they've sometimes used. The tone and content, though is easily enough to read, especially since the scouts are quite reluctant to expose themselves on the open terrain. 'Yeah,' Brieanne thought to herself. 'That's how I felt, too.' She watched, looking for the ones she had seen last night. Lios, who had been whining about the long march, Deckard, the woman Maleia and the spell caster Kennard. She didn't expect to see the caster she'd clashed with rescuing Galen, but anything was possible. Brieanne has a wait in store. Various members of the Chaosian party approach the edge of the forest, speak to each other, mill around, and inquire. There is a mixture of that chatter and some Thari, albeit accented. The bits all sound agitated and uncertain about the situation. Its a good half hour. And then comes what, in this babble, is the closest thing to a familiar voice. "Not again!" comes the voice. Maleia. A trio of figures move toward the edge, not far away from Brieanne's perch. "Quiet!" comes the voice of the spell caster. Kennard. "Things are not quite as they appear." "That's not a surprise." Deckard says. "Especially not here. Are you really going to break the rules and unleash that spell you've worked on?" "Yes. These woods or that clearing could be hiding any number of spies." Kennard says confidently. "It's better than escalating the situation as our Jesby leader wants to do. No offense, Maleia. After that situation with the dragon on the glacier, I think we've earned a little leeway." "There's a thought." Deckard says in an amused tone of voice. "Push a glacier to the foot of Amber." Brieanne's arcane senses have started to prickle. "You really shouldn't do that, Kennard." Brieanne let her voice carry to them. "We already wonder who you are to the Greenwood of Arden." The trio look upward and around at the sound of Brieanne's voice. "Where..." Maleia begins to say, with a hissing sound from either Deckard or Kennard. She merged back with the tree, choosing another vantage point. Slipping from tree to tree where they locked arms high overhead. "And the Prince who waits would be amused by a glacier." Her tone was light, a little chirp in the woods before she was gone again. "Would he now." Maleia says aloud, upward in the direction of the daughter of Julian's voice, as Brieanne alights away. She still feels that arcane prickle.
The trump call slowly ramps up as Brieanne sings it toward existence. "Let me handle this." Kennard says, evidently to his companions. "All right, our fast moving conversant." he says with a tone of amicability in his voice. "It won't be long before we move ahead. So if we are going to bargain, we should unspool this scroll and read it." "I, Kennard of House Chanicut ask. Who or what are you?"
Brieanne stepped out on a branch above and ahead of them, coming around the trunk of the tree to face them. She was near the edge of the wood now and blue sky peeked through the canopy behind her. She still held WoundWeaver, but down at her side, slightly behind. And the three Chaosians, with relatively human appearances, regard Brieanne. Deckard's hand has moved toward a dagger on his belt. Maleia and Kennard do not appear visibly armed. Yet. "I am Brieanne, Daughter of Prince Julian of Amber, and before you unspool anything, I invite you to come join us. Sit. Relax. Put your feet up, have a drink. The Inn of the Falling Coins isn't fancy, but the ale's cold, the bread is fresh and I promise to listen to what you have to say."
It was close before, but the full press is what brings the call fully to the attention of the glacier-loving son of Gerard. He connects fully, a mental presence of preserving, solid, protective ice.
She provided ring-side seating for them, letting him know exactly where she stood. Hadrian and Dora keep quiet, but their intense scrutiny of Kennard and his friends through the connection is palpable. "You want to negotiate." Deckard says, suspiciously. "This trip has nothing been negotiation. Except when its been a running battle." Maleia points out. "We'll make this simple." Kennard says. "Maleia, you go back and tell your Mother that we've made contact. Deckard...go and tell whoever you've been making your reports to." "*I* will talk to Brieanne Juliansdottir here." Kennard continues. "If things become amenable, you can join me in talking with our introduction to Amber. We risk only one of us, we have the potential to gain much." "Fine" Deckard looks at Brieanne with that same air of suspicion. "Kennard--she's trickier than that Dragon, you know. She's a Barimen." Maleia puts a hand on Kennard's arm and whispers something inaudible in his ear. And then when she withdraws her mouth, she speaks aloud. "Good luck." Kennard looks at Brieanne expectantly. "He's wise to be wary when dealing with Dragons." Brieanne fell out of the tree, twisted midair and landed on her feet. "They charge interest." She stood, pivoting to head toward the Inn. Kennard quirks his mouth, clearly processing this tidbit. "Except when they're smitten." She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling, added an innocent shrug and turned to pay attention to where she was going. "Good for you then that I'm not a dragon, aye?" Through the trump call, Brieanne can hear the mental laughter of Dora and Hadrian. Another smile flashed over her shoulder, in Kennard's direction. She moved between Chaosians as if they were just more trees, heading directly toward the Inn. She lifted her face briefly when she stepped out from beneath the canopy, closing her eyes to bask briefly in the warmth of the sun. "Yes" Kennard finally manages an answer. "Yes it is well for that." "Do you have something specific you like to drink? Or is this going to be one of those times when everyone is very paranoid and switches drinks because they don't trust anyone else?" She was genuinely interested in the answer. Falling in to walk along beside him. Kennard's gait is direct and simple, a stride that Brieanne can match. Out into the sun Brieanne and Kennard can go. Up above in the sky, Gaz looks more like a hawk or an eagle than a dragon as they approach the wall around the Inn. "It is customary in the Courts of Chaos to be wary of food and drink offered by others." Kennard says dryly. "However, I consider it unlikely that a deliberate poisoning on your part would have much efficacy. While Chaosian vintages are not likely to be part of the service, I believe you mentioned that the ale in this Inn is cold. That will suit me well enough." On the other side of the call, Brieanne can see Hadrian mouthing something to Galen and making general preparations for entry into the Inn proper. "Cold ale it is, and I'm so glad you don't expect me to poison you. I've never done that before and I'd hate to disappoint you." Her hands gestured apologetically, mirroring the expression that flashed across her face. "And maybe they have more than one sort of ale. If you sample them you might find one that's more appealing." "A too liberal sampling of varieties of ale, however, might produce an unintentional, temporary and mild poisoning." Kennard observes dryly. "True... But I don't expect us to be pounding them down." She gave him a perplexed look, wondering if he was that much of a light-weight. She trotted directly to the gate, curious as to whether he'd open it for her and wondering if she should just go on in ahead and letting the moment linger to give Hadrian another minute. Kennard is enough of a gentleman by Amberite standards to reach the small gate a moment or two before Brieanne does. He does open the gate, allowing Brieanne to proceed him into the courtyard that surrounds the Inn. By this point, Hadrian and Galen have handed off the horses, and the two of them, plus the Hounds and Dora, have entered the Inn ahead of them. "Your companions are making the arrangements for us, are they not?" Kennard enquires. "Yes." Brieanne agreed, pausing to check on Polt. "Since they are already ahead of us, that seemed efficient." She gave her four-footed friend a last scratch and continued into the Inn. Polt is calmly and happily munching some fresh hay that has been put out by the stablehands. The stables are of good quality and as clean as such buildings generally can be. Rather than pausing at the door to let her eyes adjust to the change in light, she oriented toward Hadrian by their connection and crossed the room at a calm pace that seemed relaxed, but in truth allowed her to move cautiously. If Kennard is aware of Brieanne's reasons and the tactical considerations of her motion, he doesn't twig. Instead he takes in the rustic appearance inside the inn. Its no surprise to Brieanne that wood is the dominant material things are made of, with a rough-hewn look to everything that belies workman-like craftsmanship. Hadrian and Galen are at a long table with four of the six chairs unoccupied. "Allow me to make introductions." She dropped herself into a chair, half sideways with one leg tucked under. "Galen Miriamson. Prince Hadrian of DuMarque and Amber. Kennard of House Chanicut." Brieanne indicated each man in turn and then looked around to see if refreshments were arriving. Introductions made, Brieanne winks at Hadrian and withdraws from the contact. Galen bows his head sincerely at Brieanne's introduction. Hadrian gives a now of his head as well. Kennard, for his part, gives some sort of bow to each man and finally takes a seat. Dora is nowhere to be seen. As he does so, a dark haired woman, one of the servers of the Inn, arrives with a platter containing a large wooden pitcher of the cold ale that Brieanne promised Kennard, along with cups. She beams a smile at the three men, and then her eyes widen as she regards Brieanne. "Milady Princess of the Greenwood?" she asks as she sets down the pitcher and wooden cups on the table. Her eyes are as wide as saucers as she regards Brieanne. "Hello." Brieanne answers with a smile. "Can I have water with fruit? Something like sangria, but without the wine." She tries to explain what she wants. "Fruit water." The dark haired woman says. Its not quite a doubtful tone; her brows are knit in thought. "And if you have dark ale, Father will be along in a moment and he might like that." The smile never wavered and amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes, though she was half willing the woman away. This breaks the momentary look of thought on the woman's face. She understands it a moment after Kennard does. Hadrian gives a grin. Galen looks pleased as well. "Yes, your Highness." she says, and withdraws, quickly. Kennard nods his head toward Brieanne as he reaches for the pitcher. Galen and Hadrian give nods as he pours three cups. He gives a smile. "Our hostess inquired about Chaosian drinking habits." Kennard says with a smile. He takes the cup nearest him, takes a sip and then nods. "Are you merely a placeholder for negotiations, or are you empowered to speak beforehand?" Kennard says. "Say, if Julian Oberonson does not arrive in a timely fashion?" "I can listen, speak and hide bodies at will." Brieanne smiled gamely, propping an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. "They can both vouch for that." She indicated the Moonrider and the young Prince who'd been first introduced to her while securely in the custody of her father's Rangers. Hadrian gives a grin and a nod in confirmation. Galen nods his head once. "You had something to unroll?" Resting comfortably, she regarded her 'guest' with an amused expression, her other arm dangling down so she could scratch Briarsting's head. The hounds are noticeably far away from Kennard, and Briarsting only comes within reach at the dangling hand offered by Brieanne. There is definitely unease in her companions at the presence of Kennard Chanicut. Kennard takes a sip of his ale. He seems ready to speak, but is interrupted by the return of the hostess, with a large fluted wooden cup brimming with a concoction of water, cubed peaches, pears and cut strawberries. "The dark ale will be ready upon the arrival of your Lord Father." she says as she sets down the cup. Brieanne murmurs her thanks, but her gaze remains on her guest. Kennard waits for her to depart before answering Brieanne's question. He takes another sip of the ale and then a deep breath. "I am here to open up negotiations for the preparations of a visit of a delegation of several Houses of Chaos to the Kingdom of Amber, with an eye to serve a petition for redress of grievances against a Prince of your realm." "Really? Well, since we haven't spilled over yet, I guess we need one more thing to boil the pot." Brieanne's eyes rolled as she gathered up her cup and took a drink. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me which Prince?" Hadrian leans forward to listen. Galen takes a more circumspect pose but clearly is attentive as well. Kennard regards Hadrian and then looks at Brieanne. He smiles, and shakes his head in slow motion. "Even if I knew that detail, and I do not..." Kennard regards Brieanne and takes a sip of ale "...it occurs to me that leaking that information, prematurely, might allow him the possibility of becoming a fugitive." "Only if I liked him." Brieanne commented, fishing a bit of strawberry out of her cup. "As it is and confidentially between us, Princess Brieanne, I am not even really supposed to know that we ARE here to serve a petition." "Officially, anyway." Kennard smiles. "Hmm..." Brieanne mulled the detail along with her strawberry. "Since, sometimes, you can't be sure how the news will be received, I'm not sure I'd deliver anything if I didn't know what it was." She studied Kennard a moment and let the thought go. Kennard furrows his eyebrows at Brieanne's mark but says nothing, letting him continue. "So, what do you need out of this meeting, if it's not time to unroll the petition and find out what it says?" She sat cross-legged in her seat, leaning back comfortably and watching him. "There is a, clash of cultures here." Kennard says, taking a sip of his ale. Cultural differences between the Courts and the Kingdom of Amber. And a matter of a treaty to honor." Hadrian furrows his eyebrows quizzically, Galen leans in to listen as Kennard continues. "In the Courts, if a delegation is going to serve a petition, or even enter the territory of, a rival House, there are forms that must be observed. There must be a negotiation for acknowledgment of our arrival, as well as word sent to your Liege lord of that arrival and plans set in motion for hospitality. It would be unwise for us to simply proceed to Castle Amber without doing so." "Although it was a suggestion in the Patternfall War treaty, the Wall Port has not yet been constructed, and so we arrive here at the borders of your Shadow to formally announce our arrival." Kennard takes a sip of his ale. "We," Brieanne observed, "aren't nearly so formal. Of coure, we're one House without a lot of sibling Houses to fuss with." She wrinkled her nose at the thought of all the parsnickity etiquettes and rules the Chaosians employed. Our way, she thought, is much better. And at that moment, Brieanne is getting a trump call. It's Dad. "Hello Daddy." Brieanne looked up into the Trump call. "Are you about to stride in or stride through...?" She wasn't sure if she should stand and make room or not, but she took a sip of water and caught a bit of peach with her teeth while she waited for his reply. Kennard looks at Brieanne quizzically at first and then with a growing concern as he realizes who she is speaking to. Hadrian just smiles slightly and takes a sip of his ale. Galen, for his part, has a look of revelatory realization, but he says nothing. "I am approximately three quarters of a mile from the Inn." Father says. "I was calling to get an update on your status as well as that of our incoming guests before coming closer." "Things are good. We were discussing the differences between how we do things and how they do things and it occurs to me know why we didn't build a ...Port Wall?" She glanced inquisitively at Kennard, but only for an instant. "A Wall Port." Kennard says automatically. "In this instance, I'm it." She grinned and shrugged. "Your ale is waiting and then we get to find out which Prince pissed them off." "They won't tell *you*, will they?" Julian says rhetorically. He looks through the call, starring beyond Brieanne at Kennard. "Oh... I'm sure he will if we want him to." Brieanne theorized, her gaze on her father not shifting an inch, though she was briefly impish. Julian grunts. "At least they had the sense not to send a Hendrake Cataphract to negotiate with you." Julian then says. "Keep him well entertained, I will be there to enjoy that ale shortly." A who? Brieanne's brows tied in a knot as she tried to sound out the name again, but she let it go just as quickly. Anything that sounded like a hairball coming up probably wasn't something she wanted to sit and be social with. "Done, and good." She smiled brightly, let the contact go, and looked around the room for the woman who'd served them. With the contact done, Kennard regards Brieanne thoughtfully even as she looks away to find the serving woman. Alert for anything from the table, the woman hurries over, with the grace not to look like she was hurrying over much. "Yes, milady Princess. Is there aught more that you need? Something to eat, perhaps?" the server says, looking at the four men. Galen shrugs. However, a slight growl emits from Hadrian's stomach at that moment. The son of Gerard flushes slightly...and Brieanne notices a sudden, perceptible chill in the air, and the sound of crackling ice coming from the cup that Hadrian holds. Kennard's eyes widen only slightly, but the server remains serenely watching Brieanne through all this. Brieanne laughed. "Yes. Bread, cheese, things easy to eat while talking, and two bones for the boys." She looked at her hounds and back up to the woman, leaning slightly so she could lower her voice. "It's never pretty if they get peckish." The women, listening carefully to this point, looks down at Briarsting and Smoketredder. As she looks up at Brieanne, Kennard, Galen and Hadrian, her eyes are appreciably wider. "Immediately, your Highness." Taking a drink, she watched the woman leave and turned back to Kennard and the others. "Father will be here shortly. It would speed things up if you'd tell us 'who', but he seems willing to wait if you insist." "It might speed up things." Kennard concedes with a nod. "I am pretty sure that I can say that the Prince in question is neither your father, nor is it Prince Hadrian..." Kennard looks at Hadrian. "Well, of course not." Brieanne looked amused, never having considered that it was anyone present ... in fact she'd narrowed the list of suspects to two. And then its Kennard's turn to get a far away look. "I think." Kennard says. "its my turn to receive orders from a higher command." "Yes?" he says aloud. Brieanne and her companions can hear the conversation continue. In the midst of it, the serving girl returns with a basket of fresh baked bread, butter, a block of a white cheese, and a knife, And a pair of very large bones which after a moment's thought she gives to Brieanne rather than directly to the hounds. Brieanne thanked the woman, understanding why she wouldn't want to risk her fingers... or hands, and turned to the suddenly very alert hounds, making certain that the animals minded their manners as they took their treats. The bounds are loud and enthusiastic in their mastication of the bones. Fortunately, however, their mastication is limited to the bones that they have been given. "I am at the Inn. No,they remained in the forest. I took the initiative in meeting one of the Barimens, yes. One of the younger Princesses. No, the daughter of the Forest Master. Yes. They have asked about our reason. No, I don't know officially after all. Yes. If that is your wish, milady. Thank you." And then the trump look ends. "Sometimes." Kennard says with a smile "Trump calls are more trouble than they are worth." "Only if you take them all." Brieanne smiled ruefully. "I try to avoid the annoying ones and find creative reasons for why they didn't want me to take them." The smile was impish and ever so slightly feral, leaving the 'why's to his imagination. Taking some bread and cheese, she rearranged herself in her seat. Kennard smiles slightly and dips his head. "Anything we need to do differently? And what sorts of arrangements are your people going to expect?" "At the moment." Kennard says "I am exactly where I need to be." he says with a smile. "I have been given...room to negotiate with you and even more so, your father." "What is more." he adds. "I have been empowered to..." The sound of snorting and hoofbeats outside is loud enough to hear inside of the inn, and to Brieanne, the sound is very familiar. Morgenstern and his rider have arrived. "Oh..." Brieanne leaned forward, propping her chin in her hand, her elbow braced on the table. "Please continue." But the smile on her face was broad, her whole body crackling with energy as she contained herself. The hounds looked up, ears straining forward, their attention fixed on the door. Like Brieanne they were bundles of nerves, kept in place by willpower and ready to leap to their feet in an instant. "The Lord of Arden approaches." Kennard says, more of a statement than a question. Galen looks down at the two eager hounds, but Hadrian continues to look carefully at Kennard and takes a bit of cheese. "The cheese would be better with Flatbrød rather than this bread." he says randomly. He takes a bite of cheese on top of the bread anyway. "Please, Kennard, continue." he adds to Brieanne's offer. "Well, as I was saying, I have been empowered to more fully discuss the reason for our arrival here. Paradoxically, because a formal location has not been established between our two realms, there is much more latitude for giving me the authority to do so." "That's good. Unless you're hunting pheasant, it gets very frustrating when people beat about the bush." Kennard stops at this point, because of the sounds of booted men coming into the Inn. Julian enters, followed by two of his lieutenants in the Rangers, and it is all the hounds can do not to move from their location. Brieanne twisted in her seat, the toes of one foot braced on the ground as she perched in the chair. She still wore a smile in greeting, her gaze meeting her father's as he crossed the room and she stood when he approached the table. Both hounds popped up to their feet as well, flanking Brieanne attentively and mirroring her body language, their bones temporarily abandoned. Stepping in close for a quick hug hello, Brieanne slipped her arm through his and introduced him to Kennard in the same manner she'd introduced the others earlier. She included Galen since he had not yet had the pleasure of meeting her father, and with that done was ready to return to her seat, but waiting, taking her cues from her father, as the hounds took theirs from her. Introductions for Galen and Kennard are quick and easy. Brieanne notices, however, that Julian gives Galen as much visual scrutiny as Kennard. Hadrian gets a sincere nod, a mark of high praise, perhaps reflecting his status as the son of a beloved brother. The Lieutenants, whom Brieanne will recognize as Aiden and Teague , are not introduced directly. They step back and take a separate table. In the meantime, the dark haired serving girl, with a respectful "milord" brings mugs of beer for Dad and his two officers. "You've done well in keeping our emissary here comfortable. Lessons from Pollux, perhaps?" Julian asks rhetorically. "Now, Kennard of House Chanicut, what is this all about?" Brieanne's only answer was a small smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. That wasn't at all where she'd learned these lessons but she was willing to give Pollux the credit. Kennard takes a sip of his ale, pauses a moment and looks at Brieanne and Julian. "I represent a party composed of several members of several Houses of Chaos who, by the rights and privileges established by the Treaties of the Patternfall War, have come to the Kingdom of Amber. By the rights of that Treaty, they seek passage into, and hospitality established within, the Kingdom of Amber." "Their reason for coming to the Kingdom is a matter of redress of grievances against a Prince of that realm." Kennard continues. He takes a deep breath."This Prince's actions have caused loss of life and property to several Houses." "Who is this Prince?" Julian asks. Kennard waits a moment before he responds. "Prince Jayson, son of Princess Sand." In danger of having her eyes glaze over with the formalities, Brieanne perked back up when her father asked the question she'd wanted to and she was ready for the answer, though she wasn't surprised. Julian gives Brieanne a small motion of the head, very subtle, expecting her input. "Having to do with the storm that hit us and Apollo's undoing?" She glanced between her father and Kennard, but remained sitting back in her seat, her drink in hand. She could play if she wanted to, but the Chaosian expected it to be her Father's game and she was content for the moment to go for appearances. "Yes." Kennard says. He looks at Brieanne a moment longer and then continues. "Do you know the true nature and the origin of the storm of which you mention?" Julian has a guarded look, and looks to Hadrian and Galen. The latter two give small shakes of their head. He then looks at Brieanne. Leaning forward, Brieanne propped her elbow on the table again, planted her jaw on the heel of her hand and favored their guest with a friendly look, even if the intensity of the stare was somewhat at odds with the hint of a smile that graced the rest of her face. "Enlighten us." Out of the corner of her eye, Brieanne can see the slight nod of approval from her father's direction. The look of curiosity from Hadrian and Galen are also similarly gratifying, perhaps. Kennard looks a little surprised at Brieanne's response and he takes a sip of the remaining ale in his cup. He lets it fall to the table with a rattle that brings the attention of the waitress. The Chaosian pays her no mind as he looks keenly at Brieanne and speaks. "Jayson, son of Sand, did by unknown means and provenance enter into the Logrus in the company of a party unknown. His actions and what transpired within the Logrus is not and perhaps will never be, known. However, what is certain is that while he was inside, the destructive phenomenon that the Houses of Chaos are calling the Shockwave began, emitting from the Ways of the Logrus and spreading outward through the Courts." "We have it on good authority that he survived the experience and escaped, for he was seen outside of the Logrus afterwards." Kennard finishes. "We were unaware of the extent of the damage that the Storm has caused beyond Ygg." "It did more than rattle the china when it reached here." Brieanne replied. "By one who would know, it was described as 'the agonies of death' and as best we can tell it was a curse that marched like a vendetta rather directly to our castle and various attempts to stop it failed." Julian makes a slight nod of the head. Kennard looks mildly surprised by Brieanne's response. Brieanne leaned back in her chair again. "So, we are familiar with the storm you are talking about. His issues with Apollo are likely the root of it all, though I can't help you with where Jayson is and I'm sure there would be a few who would take it poorly if I did and simply pointed him out." She made a rueful face and took a drink, nibbling on her fruit while she left some silence for others to fill. Kennard smiles slightly. "The disposition of Jayson, son of Sand is something to be done in a more formal manner. You did ask the primary reason why we are here, after all." "Yes" Julian says, taking a sip of the dark. "We did." He keeps his tone neutral. "What now?" Hadrian asks, clearing his throat. "An excellent question." Kennard says. "My superiors were hoping for an agreement for passage at the very least through the forest. A pro-tem arrangement for someplace to bivouac at Amber itself pending more formal agreement would be ideal." "All right.A moment." Julian replies He rises from the table and motions for Brieanne and his two officers to join him. Brieanne set her drink down and rose to follow silently, as obedient as the officers, without so much as a glance at her companions. The hounds rose to their feet again as well, watching and waiting. Julian takes a position not too far from the table where Hadrian, Galen and Kennard sit, but his back is to them. Behind Julian, Brieanne can see the hounds have taken a position between Julian and the table. "All right." Julian says, looking at the officers and then at Brieanne. "Aiden, Teague, you're going to gather a picket force that will be suitable for escorting our visitors through the forest to their final destination." Both of the officers give a nod. Julian looks at Brieanne. "I have in mind one of two jobs for you, Brieanne. I want your thoughts on this first." Julian says. "On their petition?" Brieanne leaned into one hip so that her father hid her response from other's eyes. "I think this is going to be terribly interesting and I'd very much like to see Random wiggle his way through this one...." she paused, considered and leaned in slightly closer. "Or were you hoping for a more constructive response, because I might not have one. I mean, that one," she indicated Kennard with her chin, "doesn't worry me, they seem intent on keeping to the treaty, but there are multiple factions with overlapping agendas and it might be all more interesting than we want, but the family did cause trouble on their end first and I suspect it wasn't done politely, which makes for a pretty good complaint." She shrugged... still not sure if she'd given him what he wanted, but those were the thoughts off the top of her head. "No, that will do, Brieanne." Julian says with a touch of the indulgence that he holds for his only daughter. "Now, though, we must need prepare a response and prepare the way for these Chaosians, agendas and all, to arrive in Amber." "I give you a choice. Either head to the Castle and start warning key members of the family about this--I am sure you can guess which ones, or head to Redwood and start drawing up plans for finding a place to keep this legation and out of trouble." "Unless." he raises an eyebrow. "you had some other idea of how best to use your talents." "I would be happy to announce their arrival." Brieanne smiled broadly, lifting up on her toes slightly before rocking back to her heels. Julian gives a slight nod for Brieanne to continue. "And I would camp them at the grounds we use for the festival competitions. It's wide and open and we should be able to keep an eye on them without being any more intrusive than we want to be." "Yes. Its cleared of that stuff by now and should be large enough." Julian turns and looks speculatively at Galen and Hadrian. While Brieanne was talking with her father, Dora has suddenly materialized on Hadrian's shoulder. Brieanne's knowledge of draconic body language suggests she is somewhat tense and nervous. He looks back at Brieanne. "All right. I want you to return to the Castle and get that settled. IF you would prefer to take your cousin and your...friend, it might be for the best, unless you'd prefer to lend Hadrian to me." "I can loan you Hadrian. He's very useful, especially for keeping in touch, though it might be a bit mean to leave them with the Chaosians. They seem to be making Dora terribly nervous." She gave the little wyvern a sympathetic look and turned back to her father. "Dora is a perceptive familiar, that's why." Julian replies dryly. "I'll see if they have any sort of special need we wouldn't think of and send them on their way with you?" "Done." Julian says. "You and your...other friend." Julian gives Galen a speculative glance "be careful. I trust these Chaosians as far as Lorius could throw them." Julian pauses "*without* his spellcraft." Julian motions Brieanne to return to the table, turning to speak to his two officers in the meantime. With a playful half-bow, Brieanne sauntered back to the table. "I think we know where you're going to bivouac but is there anything specific you need or want to avoid or is going to cause people great offense and upset that will leave us shaking our heads, or are we doomed to some degree of that no matter what?" Her tone was as matter-of-fact as her expression, and a bit curious, but while her eyes were on Kennard, one hand stretched out to greet Dora. Without hesitation, Dora takes flight off of Hadrian's shoulder and lands delicately on Brieanne's outstretched hand and arm, with all of the grace that one of father's raptors might return to him. Although she does not speak, there is a nod of the head and the draconic equivalent of a smile. Beyond her, Hadrian looks on approvingly, Galen looks on curiously, and then they both stop to listen as Kennard speaks. "The Chaosian embassy would prefer as large an open space as possible." Kennard says. "There are misgivings, you see, about the forests around Amber, given how deadly they were..." Kennard pauses "how deadly they were during the late conflict between our two great powers." "The Forest of Arden is dangerous." Hadrian comments. Galen gives a perceptible nod of agreement. "Some sort of method of keeping the curious locals at bay would be welcome." Kennard adds. "A diplomatic incident between a stray farmhand and one of the Hellmaidens with us, for instance, would not go well." Brieanne's attention remained on Dora, as if the little wyvern and she were alone in the room. The sound of her nails gliding across emerald scales was lost to the others, drowned out the ambient sounds in the room and their own breathing. But in the silence that followed Brieanne's head turned on its axis, like a raptor taking notice and the smile bared the tips of her canines. "I know all about the dangers of Arden. I'm one of them." The smile widened briefly and she rolled her head in a lazy fashion to face Dora again. "I was only a small child, but I learned to hunt when I could walk." Wise fingers skittered down Dora's back, scratching with the flow of scales, never running counter to it. "No one liked my involvement, but there's not a shapeshifter I've met who can lose me in Arden and that made me very, very useful." She planted a kiss on Dora's nose and shifted in her chair, cradling Dora while she reached for her cup. "There are some of the more impetuous amongst our embassy who might want to put those reputations to the test." Kennard replies. "I, however, am not one of them." Galen takes a sip of his ale and smiles slightly. Hadrian seems to have finished his, and runs a finger around the edge of the cup. Dora doesn't quite preen under the attention, there is too much tension in the room for it. But the subtle movements and reactions to Brieanne's practiced fingers are definite, appreciative responses. "And the festival grounds are wide open and well known. The Rangers will keep out the curious, and the packs will keep out the uncooperative." Her certainty was clear as she indicated the hounds beside her with a tip of her head. "So the Rangers and your hounds will watch over our campground." Kennard says. "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" he says after a moment's thought and then shakes his head rather than explaining it. "I need to relay all of this, of course." Kennard says. "I will make a strong recommendation that the Hospitality at these festival grounds be accepted. I do not foresee that my recommendation will be countermanded." "That's good, otherwise I'm not certain what your options would be." The smile that went with the words was crooked, bemused. "And it won't be my boys specifically, but their brethren, and I am certain your own guards will assure your people that our guards are doing their jobs." Kennard gives a brief, curt nod. Her gaze was briefly sharper before humor softened the edges again. "If you need me I'm not usually too difficult to reach. Most any of the Rangers will be able to relay a message and if they can't, if I am in Arden, the hounds can. Just keep your request direct, and simple. ... and a strong degree of earnestness will probably be required." She thought about that, nodded and finished her drink so she could free her hand and return her attention to Dora. Dora turns her eyes up at Brieanne, watchful, curious, pleased and unblinking. She glanced at her Father, looking to see if he was ready. It looks like, from his body language, that Julian is ready to depart. "Will the others be joining us here or will you return to them?" "I will be returning to them." Kennard says without hesitation. "Meeting you here at this point was my own initiative, and my business. For them to meet me here would define and make my role within the expedition larger than it actually is, with a possible loss of face for some who are ranked higher than I am." "Whew!" Hadrian exclaims. Galen doesn't say anything. "Indeed." Kennard drains his cup. He turns it over and claps it against the table. "I thank you for the hospitality you have shown, Brieanne, daughter of Prince Julian." "You're welcome. And if they lost face...." Brieanne shrugged, dragging the backs of her nails the length of Dora's back, "it's only because you seized the opportunity, and they did not." She most certainly felt no sympathy. She stood with one arm tucked beneath Dora so that when she extended her arm the little wyvern swung in Hadrian's direction, making it easy for Dora to return to Hadrian, and led the group back to her father. Dora finally takes flight and lands expertly on Hadrian's shoulder. She tilts her head back at Brieanne and gives off a soft sound of appreciation for the attention. Hadrian and Galen look alertly at Julian, as does Kennard, a pace backward. "Everyone is ready. Hadrian, if you'd stay with Father, Galen and I will head for the castle." She looked around, waiting for final comments and agreements. "Ahhh." A look of illumination crosses Hadrian's face and he nods in the direction of Brieanne's father. "I would be pleased to help in any way. Sir." "*You* can call me uncle." Julian says. "Right. Head outside with Aiden and Teague." he says. With a hand raised in farewell to Galen and Brieanne, Hadrian heads out. Julian then looks at Kennard. "We'll start sorting this business as soon as you can get your people into some semblance of a marching order." Kennard nods. "That is acceptable. I will report and return." He, too, departs the Inn, a half minute after Hadrian. "Good luck." Julian says to Brieanne. "You know how to reach me if there are difficulties." "I can't imagine that it'll be anything I can't handle, but you'll hear quickly if I'm wrong." Julian nods. She grinned, gave a wave to the ensemble, and trotted out with Galen and the hounds in tow. "This should be interesting." She commented quietly to Galen as a stable hand gathered the tack and dressed Galen's horse. The sounds of horses and hounds once again busy with their bones covering the soft tone. She watched the Inn, but was ready to go the moment Galen's horse was ready. Hadrian's horse is already out and being dressed, now with Aiden and Teague and their mounts. There is no sign of Morgenstern here, though. The stable hand takes care of Galen's horse, and Polt, easily and quickly. If Brieanne looks behind her, Kennard is already part way to the treeline. Once again in motion, hounds trotting along with their bones, she contemplated her Trump. "Sometimes you just don't know which bell to ring first." "Hadrian, and with him, Shannon, seemed to accept me fairly well." Galen comments. "Your father seemed somewhat glacial in his reaction to me." the Moonrider adds. "How will the rest of your family, especially any you might contact next, react to my presence?" "um... my brother will be about as friendly as my father, Uncle Gerard.... suspicious but not quite so openly hostile, and then most of the rest will be curious or suspicious and a few amused because they hope you're giving Daddy fits." "There is no hope for anything other than meeting them." Galen replies with a bemused look. Brieanne flashed a grin in his direction. And speaking of Carl, she fished his card out and concentrated. The card of Carl takes a few moments to come to life, but come to life it does with the telltale rainbow light. Judging from the background, Carl is in Dad's steading, in the meeting room. There are a few Rangers in the background. Also in the background is Helias. The fire demon was politely, pointedly, ignored. "Sister" Carl rumbles. "You've run into Father, I might guess?" Intended or not, Galen is not within viewing range of Carl at this time. "I have. The Chaosians will be at the Festival grounds, so that needs secured. They'd rather not have curious natives creeping around we'd rather not have curious things happen to natives who are creeping around." She wrinkled her nose. "Hadrian is with Father, Galen and I are on our way to the castle." She let Polt amble along, trusting that he would stick to the road and stay with Galen while she focused on her brother. "Couldn't talk the Chaosians into going someplace else for their Spring Wanderjahr?" Carl says, in a somewhat rhetorical tone. "Why are they here anyway?" "Certain family members made an uninvited, unannounced visit to their end of things and made one hell of a mess and broke all sorts of things and they're here to serve official grievence of some sort." Carl growls. "Certain family members need to be taken in hand." He pauses a moment as if trying to replay what Brieanne just said, and then squints his eyes. "I know who Hadrian is, he's the intimidateable one. Although now he's Gerard's son..." Carl sounds almost disappointed. She favored Carl with a disapproving glare for his treatment of Hadrian. And then his disappointment fades, in his voice as he continues to regard his sister. "Galen. The *Moonrider*?" "Yes." She stared at him blankly. "Who else would it be?" She looked genuinely perplexed, it wasn't a common name, after all. "Father will likely be rearranging tasks and guards, be ready." She chirped, smiling impishly. "I will be ready." Carl looks ready to say something, Brieanne can see it on the tip of his tongue and the look in his eyes. In the end, her brother says nothing, letting a brooding look cross his face. "I await his call and his command." With a polite, jovial tip of her head to agree that he would and it's what they did, she let the call drop. "Yeah... you just hold that thought." She muttered to herself, shaking her head at her brother's silliness as she fished out Gerard's card. Out of the corner of her eye, Brieanne can see Galen raise his eyebrows questioningly. She gazed at it a moment and then lifted her eyes to gaze at an empty space in front of her, using the glance as a reminder and drawing the card in her mind to practice. The practice does well. It takes a little longer to manage it, but the glance at the card is a good refresher for the exercise, and within a minute or so, the image of Gerard forms. He's aboard a ship, in a cabin of some kind. There are officers within view. He booms unexpected pleasure in his voice, mental and physical. "Little Brieanne! Are you staying out of trouble?" The slightly quirked eyebrow suggests that he knows better than to assume anything on that score. "I am!" She offered assurance in a vibrant tone that almost sounded surprised, maybe a little proud, but with a grin that declared, 'you know that's not true.' Gerard cocks his head, an invitation for Brieanne to explain and continue. "I had a lovely chat with some Moonriders, though some panties are in a bunch over that!" She gossiped like an old lady, "and now I get to go tell Uncle Random that Chaosians are camping out in Arden waiting to serve a petition against some cousins who have been dreadfully disrespectful. Do you think he'll keep it all together if I smile while I say it?" She was grinning ear to ear, but only half serious. It takes about 15 seconds for Gerard to contemplate and try to reply. He just stares at Brieanne. Not slack-jawed, but Gerard is not known for snappy comebacks. But when he speaks, his voice is gravelly and his words are in a measured tone. "My younger brother, your Uncle, and our liege lord has grown enough in the role that he will be respectful in listening to what you have to say." he begins. "Moonriders. Chaosians camping in Arden." Gerard shakes his head as if not believing it all. "Did you make a Festival of the Unicorn Day promise to insert more disorder into our lives, little niece?" Gerard asks. "I'm innocent!" Brieanne protested, "They all arrived here on their very own! I just... you know.. found them. And a good thing, too, I think. Someone else would likely have made a complete mess of things." "My brother is probably not pleased that the Forest he has in his keeping has turned into a social gathering center." Gerard rumbles in response. "um... no." Brieanne agreed. "The most interesting thing about what you tell me is that I seem to have become a network center for some of your cousins as well." Brieanne arched a brow curiously, but didn't ask questions. Letting her uncle continue with his thoughts to the next one. She could always ask later... and now she knew who to call. Gerard regards Brieanne for a long moment and then continues. "Who are these Chaosians bringing a petition against?" "I'm not certain I'm supposed to be saying, so you'll need to keep this in your pocket." She gave him a sharp look, trusting him not to leave her treading on thorns with a careless word. "And a confidant today, too." Gerard says. "I say nothing about my other conversations, and I will say nothing of this." "But their grievance is against Jayson, for damage done to the Courts which arrived in Amber as our Festival storm." Gerard stops, looks slightly surprised, and sighs. "I had thought that my impetuous daughter was to blame. That would have been unsurprising." Brieanne's eyebrows twist into question marks, but she doesn't ask. "That it is Jayson..." The Admiral of the Navy sighs. "is disappointing. I know of a shadow that I call Hiawatha. There, Brieanne, there is a saying. A man and what he does is worn like a medicine bundle, full of good and bad, and no one, not even the man himself, can divorce himself of one from the other, unmix them from the bundle or remove the bundle from himself." "Jayson has a strong medicine bundle, a force for good and for terrible wrong. Sometimes in the same deed." ...uh-huh.... Brieanne nodded, not quite getting it but willing to go along. "Did this delegation detail what they are asking of him?" Gerard asks. "They haven't said yet. I think that detail waits until they're before the king." She shrugged. "But now you have the heads up and I'd best get to where I am supposed to be going." She grinned. "Thank you, Brieanne" Gerard says with a nod. "I will pass the word onto my three sons about this turn of events. I will want them to be able to stand fast for the arrival of these Chaosians." "Oh.. Hadrian already knows everything." Gerard nods slightly, as if not quite surprised. "He's with Father helping us all stay connected and Dora's finding his current company... uncomfortable." She winced in sympathy. Gerard raises his eyebrows slightly. "In what way?" he asks."Well... I'm not sure. It's mostly her body language that betrays her to me... I guess they feel creepy to her." Gerard nods thoughtfully. He pauses and then smiles as Brieanne can feel his intent to sever the connection. "Good Luck." "Luck?" Brieanne scoffed in jest. "What's the worst that can happen?" She winked and let the connection drop. Gerard seemed ready to answer that, but the connection drops and Brieanne's attention returns to the real world. "Now... we'd best be off to where we're going with a bit more haste." With a soft laugh, she gave Polt a nudge and set the pace to a brisk cantor. Galen picks up the pace of his horse as well down the path into the forest. Briarsting and Smoketredder need no incentive to start moving as well after the delay. As the pace picks up, Galen speaks. "So you alerted your relatives of the arrival of this party of parley, then." Galen says. "Is this your usual function?" "I'm not certain I can say I have a usual function." Brieanne paused to give this some thought. "Usually... I roam around as I please. I track anything I find that's unusual. I listen for the hounds if they find anything... I keep Daddy informed. I just sort of ... rattle about and stick myself where ever I feel I should be. Sometimes cousins call if they want something followed, or shot." she added. "That seems somewhat chaotic and disorderly." Galen observes. "It almost sounds like your function is precisely not to fall within the bounds of natural order. A force of the wild, the random and the unexpected." "What my people know of Amber did not include one such as you in the tales of the Loremasters." Brieanne looked amused. The tales didn't include her because her parents had not yet been acquainted... "It is no wonder that you were able to find allies and free your brother and his mate." Galen observes. And then comes a voice in the wood ahead and to the right, calling out to her. A figure on foot, in her woods. "Brianna!" the figure calls. And Brieanne now knows who it is. The Sorcerer, Baralis. "Speaking of allies..." Brieanne mused, her tone quiet and the look in her eyes suspicious. She slowed Polt, riding near to where the sorcerer stood and then stopped. "You called?" She teased, sitting back, looking lazy and casual, though tension showed plainly along her back. Baralis, robed in a dark forest green and with dark hair, a moustache and a beard, seems to ignore or disregard the tension in Brieanne. He ignores Galen and the hounds entirely, the latter have moved to flank Brieanne. Galen broods nearby. "I did." Baralis replies. "Given that we've had so...many interactions over the last few weeks, and none ever face to face. I should think that, in the wake of my effort to see that you were not captured earlier, that you would want to show your appreciation in a personal meeting for the first time." "Your effort is appreciated," Brieanne favored the mage with a lopsided grin, "but we both know the chances of them actually catching me were never very good." "Elementally aspected cousins, Moonriders, hellhounds, faerie horses. You certainly know how to gather unusual allies about you." Baralis observes. "So I've been told..." Brieanne rolled her eyes, the expression hidden from its target as she twisted to slide off of Poltergeist and meet the mage on the ground. She kept one hand on Polt, playing with his mane, her other hand settled on her hip. She did not make introductions, waiting to see what this might all be about. Baralis looks at Polt, then at Galen, the hounds, and then Brieanne. He gives a bow of the head. "The chances of them catching you were perhaps not very good, but your companions certainly benefited from my intervention. They might have been caught, and I doubt you would have abandoned them, and thus you would have been caught as well, my faeblooded..." Baralis stops and smiles slightly "protege." She wasn't the least convinced that's how any of it would have gone and the bemused doubt showed plainly on her face. Given the events of the night before, her stronger position here, and the extra help still lurking, unacknowledged, in the sky above.... No. Capture was an unlikely event. And protege was entirely too strong a word, so the bemused expression remained. Galen does not dismount. He just looks evenly down at Baralis. "Still, payment for the intervention can abide, Brieanne. I am here to offer some more arcane knowledge." Baralis says. "in exchange for some knowledge from you, Brieanne" He looks at Brieanne. "Surely, your studies could use some refinement. Interested?" Brieanne can see that Galen's hands are dangerously close to his weaponry. "I think," Brieanne replied calmly, "that I'd need to hear what you wish to know before I decide that." She crossed her arms across her chest, leaning back against Poltergeist's shoulder. She had an inkling of what he wanted, and she wasn't sure she wanted to give it to him. "Oh, I am not going to ask for what you might think." Baralis says, with a smile. "You have already proved that you and your family are going to deal with these visitors. Their defenses would be inconvenient to penetrate on a consistent basis." "No, what I want to know is their doings while they are here, Brieanne, plain and simple. Surely, someone with your powers of observation has already been tapped to watch over them. I only ask that you inform me, as well as anyone else, of their doings." "Their motive for coming here, if you know it, in exchange for some tutoring in the Art, might be a fruitful opening exchange." the sorcerer finishes. Brieanne eyed the sorcerer carefully, not speaking until she was certain he was finished. "They are here with a grievance against the family, but they don't want to open the scroll that it's written on until they're before the king and the ones carrying it aren't supposed to know anything about it and they don't want to much tip their hand that they do because if things get botched it's likely to be their heads." Brieanne shrugged. "It has something to do with damage to the Ways in the Courts and the storm that came in on the night of the Festival, but all the specifics have to wait until they speak with Random. They seem quite concerned with tipping their hand." She looked briefly annoyed, but continued. Baralis scratches the hair on his chin with his right index finger but says nothing. "And I haven't yet been asked to watch them, not even by Father, and since I'm on deck to be diplomat with the Moonriders and didn't have any but my own authority in riding out to meet them, I don't know if Random will keep me for this." She shrugged again, having little say in what the King might decide. "Though I suspect I'll be nosey and checking in on them as time allows." The grin was impish and that was the best deal she was going to offer him. "Of course you are going to be, as you put it, nosy. It is in your nature." Baralis says with a smile. "A grievance against the family. My, my, my. That is useful news that would have been difficult for me to obtain by other means." "And now, I believe I promised a tutorial. I am assuming that a direct mental link would not be pleasing to you. And your boon companion already trusts me little." Galen says nothing to this. Brieanne's answer was a tilt of the head, curious but quiet because nothing more needed said. A mental link wasn't something she was going to allow and she didn't feel like explaining or defending anything or anyone. "So I simply offer you some nighttime reading, as it were." He pulls out a small book from a pocket. "To further your naescent abilities." The slim, brown volume has a few words in the same runic script Brieanne saw long ago in Baralis' lair and that she herself has started to use. Stepping away from Poltergeist, Brieanne examined the book as it was extended toward her and then took another step forward to accept it. She brushed her hands over the cover, studying the runes and then glanced up at Baralis. "I suppose you are going to be around to find?" The cover of the book is written in runes similar to the ones she now knows a little about. Although she is not sure, the title seems to read "Arcane Lessons" "I think." Baralis says "that you will find me tractable to further conversation, little one. If..." Baralis gives a look to a baleful looking Galen "the situation is safe for both of us to converse of course." She nodded. That made sense. "And now, unless there is more, I must withdraw." he continues "I take it that you are pleased with the exchange?" Baralis says to Brieanne. "Unless I change my mind, yes." Brieanne agreed, giving the book a speculative glance. "But if you're too hard to find you won't know what else crosses my path." She pointed out, glancing up to see how he might respond. She was fairly certain he'd pop up the moment it was to his advantage. He seemed very good at that. "I daresay that some of your new lessons may be useful in that regard." Baralis says. "However, I would counsel a methodical approach to your studies, Brianna. Fare well, and good hunting." "And now, without further word..." Baralis steps backward, with his back against a tree. As Brieanne, the hounds and Galen watch, Baralis' appearance turns the gray-brown color of the tree that he stands in front of, and then he turns strangely flat, as if he were a trump card, although there is no sign of trump energy. And once he has flattened like this, he spins until his thin axis faces his viewers, and in a few moments, flattens into a two dimensional line, then into a hovering point, and then, at last is gone. "Well and gone." Galen says a few moments after the display is over. "Hmm... yes..." Brieanne glanced up, looking around for the wizard before turning her attention back to the book. "This might be interesting." She flipped it open briefly, fanning the pages to see if anything caught her eye, and then returned to Poltergeist. Swinging up, she took one last look around before continuing on toward the castle. The pages are uniform in layout, with lesson names, and words in thari and in runic script. A few of the names pop out at Brieanne. "Elementary Transport." "Chameleon." "Elemental Ward." "Never a dull moment." She flashed a bright smile at Galen and set a brisk pace to make up for lost time. And so the trip to the Castle proceeds apace. The endless early spring proto-verdant of Arden is no barrier to Brieanne's passage, although Galen has a slightly rougher time of it on the less-used paths. Finally, though, on the main road, the miles of Arden finally are crossed and left behind. Into the bright day, Brieanne, Galen and the hounds find themselves at the foot of Kolvir, with either the route through the City, or the walk up the Stairs, the only barriers between them and the Castle. "Hmmm..." Brieanne frowned at her choices. "Do you feel like walking through the city?" Galen stares at the imposing mountain. Its not the tallest mountain in the universe, although its the tallest mountain within Amber itself. And the steep side is imposing, looming over Arden like a ever-present, watchful father over a child, even if the child herself is not small. "If you think that I will not cause undue comment, I would prefer the city to a stair climb." Galen says, glancing from the mountain to the city. "But, then, the denizens of Amber will must need get used to my presence, and your city is cosmopolitan is it not?" Galen pauses a beat and looks at the staircase and then back to Brieanne. "Um... I would suppose it's cosmopolitan. I spend very little time there..." Brieanne looked toward the city, never having given it much thought. "Mostly, I always think it smells funny." Galen considers this for a moment. "I should have expected, given your arcadian nature, that would be the case. Perhaps Hadrian, if he were here, would have been better able to tell us." She nudged Poltergeist toward the city, but at a much slower pace than before, letting him catch his breath and giving them opportunity to talk. "I don't think anyone would give you hassle with the boys and I about." A tip of her hand indicated the hounds. "But I could find someone to Trump if it becomes trouble, it just means Gaz would lose track of us." Lifting her gaze, she searched the sky above for the dragon. "Of course, I could tell him and maybe he'd come with us..." Galen raises his head. The dragon is visible, although he is at an altitude, and perspective, that its difficult to put a scale to him. Unless someone knows that they are looking at a large dragon, one might assume, in the absence of other visual cues, that they are looking at something closer, but not as high up. "I had almost forgotten he was still watching us." Galen observes. "How will the denizens of the Castle take to the appearance of your draconic friend. Or is he well known there?" "A leviathan landing on the battlements would cause a great deal of screaming and shouting," she didn't seem adverse to that, "but he might want to walk in human like." She considered that a moment and then, letting Polt mind the way, she turned her attention to the dragon above, picturing him clearly, and working to establish contact. Polt, and Galen's horse, continue their trot with their human passengers, along with the trotting hounds, as Brieanne turns her attention away from all of that. It takes a few extra moments, without the standard accoutrement, to make mental contact with Gazalarnith, but contact Brieanne does make. There is a note of humor in his mental voice. "I wondered, little one, if you and the Moonrider were going to lead me all the way to your Castle." "I just might." She turned a smile to the sky, beaming at him even at this distance. A beat and a pause. "Who was the sorcerer I saw you speak with?" "That was Baralis. I think I've mentioned him..." she turned her gaze down, thinking on that. "He's the one who gave me the big book I couldn't read at first and I had to go to Mith." Her gaze turned to the sky again. "He had the eye in the jar in the cave that spooked me. ...I've told you this before." I think. "Yes." the dragon rumbles through the trump connection. "You did." She hesitated and then changed topics. "But we do have to go to the castle. I'm charged with delivering the latest news to the king and while we could ride through the city and you could make a dramatic entrance, I'm not sure that would all be the best thing and I think I might let Polt take Galen's horse to father's stable and see who at the castle is around to Trump us in but I'm not sure what you wish to do." The Dragon considers this for a few moments. "Some of your family might take my arrival well, others might prepare for battle. Your news to the King would be lost in the tumult of such an arrival." "No, I will accompany you to the Castle as I did on the night of the Ball." Gaz says, definitively. "Contact me in several minutes, and then we shall proceed to the Castle. Be it by your trump, or by riding, I care not. I leave such details." a note of draconic amusement "to your capable decision making." Brieanne laughed. "You're brave." She flashed a bright smile skyward. "I'll call you again in a few minutes." "I await your call." he rumbles. She let the contact drop and turned back to Galen. "We'll ride a bit further, and then send the horses back. I think the less fuss and bother I cause this time around, the better." She shuffled through her cards, letting the pace slow to a meander as she gave Gaz time and saved the horses time on their return trip. After a moment of hesitation, she selected Pollux. It hadn't worked last time, and then there'd been that dream the night before and so she tried again. At this point, Brieanne, Galen and the hounds have reached the outermost buildings of the City itself, the path from Arden now turned into one of the streets of the city. Buildings loom up around the group, although its a fairly low density. The influence of the wood and nature are still very much in evidence here on the outskirts. Far enough into the city for her tastes, Brieanne stopped Polt and gave the area a suspicious look before turning her attention back to the cards. Galen rears up. The hounds, at Brieanne's body language, look alert. Only a few people are about, and the sight of Brieanne, a Moonrider, two horses and two hellhounds means that the group is getting a *wide* berth. So it is in that milieu that Brieanne can deal out her card, and pull out the card of Gerard's diplomatic-oriented son. The contact does not take long, and the image of Pollux on the card reveals him to be within one of the sitting rooms of the Castle, standing not far away from the door. "Brieanne?" he asks, turning his full attention to the call. "You've answered!" Brieanne stated the obvious with a smile. "You didn't last time and I was afraid something was amiss. Can you save me an adventure through the city?" "Depending on when you called." Pollux says dryly, but with a smile. "I was in a rather tight spot, with no access to Trump. Or the other time I was in durance vile, with no access to Trump. However, I am once again at liberty and back in Amber." he says. He pauses and then smiles. "As far as avoiding an adventure through the city, I seem to recall a recent adventure in this very castle when your stalwart hounds walked its halls." "Oh, yes, it'll be them, a Moonrider, a Dragon and me." She smiled. "I expect everyone will be quite well behavded, though I won't be making Uncle Random's day." She sounded pious, but the unwavering smile gave her true feelings away. "Two hell hounds, a Moonrider, a Dragon and you." Pollux repeats, considering this with a furrowed eyebrow "If its the Dragon I met..." he looks at Brieanne speculatively "that's well and fine." Pollux says. "But how and what in the name of the Unicorn and the Gods of Antioch are you doing running around with a Moonrider, Brie?" he adds. "He was among the others, or did you misplace the one I left with you? I am going to need him back soon." Brieanne frowned, worried, but still certain that whatever her cousin might have been up to, he wouldn't lose someone she'd given him for safekeeping. "And the Moonriders are less of a worry for Uncle Random now that there are Chaosians in Arden." "I didn't *misplace* him, he's quite safe. I would never misplace anything or anyone that you gave me, dear cousin Brie." Pollux says in a reassuring, dulcet tone of voice that Brieanne knows has been used on Golden Circle diplomats and potentates for decades. "It's fortunate that I did that before getting tangled up as I did, though." Pollux admits. "I was just confused as to how you wound up with a pet Moonrider out of all that fracas with your brother, Shannon, Hadrian, and Helias." "Oh... well... it seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time and it's worked out quite nicely." "You do have a tendency to land on your feet, Brie." Pollux replies. "If you weren't such a dog girl, I'd say you were part cat." he says, in an amused tone. She answered with a smirk and glanced skyward, wondering how much more time she needed to give Gazalarnith. At this point, Gaz is no longer visible in the sky, and so he must have at this point found or nearly found a place to land, and presumably, polymorph. So he should be ready, very soon. "Let me contact Gaz and then I'll call you back so we all arrive together." "I should move to a more conducive location to receive people into the Castle." Pollux says, nodding in agreement. "Your news will be enough to annoy Uncle Random; you don't want to raise the level of ire of his Royal Majesty unnecessarily. Not today, anyway." And Pollux ends the contact with a wink. In the meantime, a few of the braver denizens of the city have peeped out of windows, and doorways, and down the street, watching Brieanne, Galen and the hellhounds warily. "Oy!" one of the men, a rough looking brute in black and grey calls, slowly sauntering in the direction of the group. "What's this then in our part of the city? A carnival?" "In case you wondered, no, not everyone knows who I am." She glanced at Galen and turned to the man with a smile that would make make Pollux nervous if he was still around to see it. "You are a peculiar royal family." Galen murmurs. [Brieanne] "Yes! A dog and pony show, don't you know." The hounds eyed the man, both of them carefully depositing their bones on the ground and Briarsting, always one to mimic his mistress, offered a gaping, toothy grin and deceptive wag of the tail. The rough looking man looks at the dogs, then at the horses, and then at Galen. He looks at Brie. "And a freak, looks like." he says, jerking a thumb at Galen. Galen glares at the man long and hard, crossing his arms. A bead of sweat rolls down the man's forehead. "Ah, he's your Black Davy for your dog and pony show. Never mind then." the man says, backing away. The rest of the street starts to find other interesting things to do as well. "And here I was thinking the boys would have someone to chew on." Brieanne sighed, pouting slightly. Briarsting sat down, looking disappointed. "Ah well." "I didn't expect that you actually wanted your hounds to feed." Galen replies dryly with a slight smile. "I would have not intervened if I knew that they were hungry." "No. They wouldn't have eaten him, they'd have played with him. It makes a lasting impression." She eyed their surroundings one last time, taking in details. She turned her attention to Gazalarnith, closing her eyes briefly to envision his face and form, seeking the connection. Since the look of Gazalarnith as a human is not as irrevocably burned into her mind as his other form, it actually takes Brieanne some skull sweat to bring a mental trump of the dragon to mind. However, persistence is definitely one of Brieanne's strong suits, and finally the image of Gazalarnith comes to bear. He's not quite dressed in armor this time, instead in a formal outfit that suggests a military officer from Begma. Still mostly in black, with accents of red and gold. The tree that his back to is taller than he is, but he's still tall and imposing. Gaz smiles slightly. "Will this suit your Uncle's Court?" "Handsomely." Brieanne smiled broadly as she slid to the ground. "And I think the red is a nice touch." It reminded her of Eric, and that wasn't a bad thing. The gold.. she ignored even if it did all go well together. "Ready?" She reached a hand out, fully aware that to anyone looking she seemed to be reaching into empty air and with a Trump's usual rainbow pyrotechnics, brought him through. Given the dispersal of people in the wake of the confrontation, if anyone notices Brieanne;'s unusual conjuration, as it were, no one seems fit to make comment on it. Gazalarnith looks around the area for a moment before returning to appraise Galen, in the midst of dismounting. The hounds milled, rearranging to account for her being at their level, with a new person to investigate, though the smell of him was familiar. Brieanne waited until Galen was on the ground, adjusted his horse's tack to prevent it fro catching on any, gave Polt a kiss on the nose and sent them home with a firm slap on the rump. Poltergeist herded his companion ahead of him, quickening the pace with laid back ears and bared teeth. "Galen Miriamson." Galen says to Gaz, nodding his head. "Gazalarnith" the dragon-in-human-form replies. Horses safely away, Brieanne pulled out her cards and turned again to Pollux. "This," she commented, "is the easy part." "You're using your cards for this contact, I notice." Galen says. "Is that because of the added difficulty of transporting all of us?' "Hmm..." Brieanne tilted her head one way, then the other in a sort of yes and no gesture. "I don't want complications in that, and the family expects me to use cards. Why let them know I don't have to?" She was mostly amused and only slightly impish. Gaz for his part looks to Brieanne and watches as she concentrates on the card of Pollux. The contact takes a few extra moments to go through, but finally the image of Pollux, now in the courtyard, manifests. "Quick work..." Pollux says. He looks past Brieanne to Galen and then Gazalarnith. "He's not *really* also a Oberstleutnant from Begma, is he?" Pollux asks. The question was unexpected and Brieanne gave her cousin a blank look. "I don't think so... and I think I'd know." Recovering, she glanced at Gaz, then back to Pollux. "l'll ask for you." And she did, looking up at the dragon. "You're not also an Oberstleutnant from Begma, are you?" She seemed almost entirely serious, but Gazalarnith had known her long enough to detect the twitching of a smile just beneath the surface. "Nein. I thought it only a useful attire" Gazalarnith says, in a draconic rumble that temporarily bespoke of the accent of Begma. Pollux raises his eyebrows only a fraction and then nods. "But it does suit you." The smile finally broke out, flashing broadly as she gazed up at Gaz and then she turned to Pollux, more serious again. "We are ready to make our entrance." She announced, reaching first for Galen's hand to pass him through. The hounds went next, one by one, and then she brought Gazalarnith through with her. Safely on the otherside, she looked around to see what spot Pollux had chosen. Pollux has chosen a spot in the corner of the courtyard, near the path leading over to where the guards and the martially inclined of the family like William go to practice. The main five sided building of the Castle looms behind him. In this spot, there are only a few guards and servants to wonder and watch the arrival of Brieanne and her coterie. "A building of legend." Galen murmurs as he holds a hand over his eyes to look up at the Castle. "A bit stern for my tastes, with itty-bitty windows and not enough green. But then, Oberon didn't build it to suit my tastes." Brieanne glanced up at the building, trying to see it from Galen's perspective. But the Crystal Tower was taller, and it glittered, and the Court of the Silvered Dawn was massive, a valley and a mountain all at once and... she remembered, it glittered too. Maybe she just liked them better because they were pretty? She glanced back up at the castle's solid face. From a human vantage point, it was impressive but not so pretty. And not enough green. She sighed a breath out and looked down at herself. "Am I going to have to get cleaned up or can I just go like this and use my dust as a reason to leave quickly?" She looked up hopefully at Pollux, very much preferring the 'leave quickly' part of the thought. Pollux steps back and looks at Brieanne with an appraiser's eye. He takes a good twenty seconds to do it. He finally shakes his head. "I cannot in good conscience allow you to enter into the Great Hall so...unkempt, good cousin. Even if your mission and message is urgent, it is not so urgent that you can escape comment. Worse, you would reflect badly on Random himself." "Unless your shirt was bloody from taking an arrow fleeing Chaosian Troops...you could never pull it off as a fashion statement." "Bloody?" Brieanne took another look down at herself, entirely having forgotten about blood. "Oh. Well. You just say that because you don't know the story of how it got there. It was really quite impressive, if I do say so myself, and there were some bits where I was fleeing Chaosian troops but only because I'd snuck into their camp and worn out my welcome... so to speak." Since she hadn't been welcome in the first place. She looked up hopefully, but realized there was no good escape. "There were centaurs and wyverns and a very surprised mage who tried to turn my into an icicle....." Her story petered out and she sighed audibly. Pollux opens his mouth, and closes it again. A good diplomat knows when to change the subject. Pollux finally smiles to Brieanne. "While I can't promise a babbling brook, there are rooms in the upper floors of the Castle that have plumbing." "I suppose they will do, but I still think I should go as I am. It's just good honest dirt and it shows that I've been working. Oh, and apparently I'm a Wall." She informed him. Following along, somewhat annoyed but alternately pleased with no further explanation, changing the subject entirely a few steps further. "A..." Pollux interrupts but Brieanne's ramble keeps him from getting out his question. "And you'll have to find something for Galen. If I have to go clean, he has to be equally presentable and he's been living in those as long as I've been living in these." Pollux looks at the Moonrider. Galen blinks calmly and carefully right back. "The mistress of Arden speaks truthfully, milord " Galen says. Gazalarnith seems more than slightly amused at all of this. Pollux doesn't quite hrow up his hands. "I think I am going to need some aid." Gerard's son smiles slightly. "And what is the use of bargaining chips if you don't use one now and again." He begins walking, not toward the main gate, but rather toward one of the servant entrances. After about five paces, he turns back to gaze at the group. "Well, we all don't want to be late for Court, do we? Come along." Brieanne trotted briskly, almost pushing Pollux along, but with a distracted air. She stopped abruptly, a scowl on her face and she looked at Pollux. Pollux halts his forward progress, just at the threshold of one of the servant entrances. A washerwoman comes out and dips her head after appraising the scene, and perhaps the presence of the hounds. "You aren't putting me in a dress. I have work to do and I don't want anyone mistaking me for some sort of fop like Asteria." She started forward again, clearly thinking. "Maybe my old whites? Like I wore when Daddy was away and I was hunting along the Road and everyone was having fits? But they might be a little small..." She pursed her lips, thinking on the matter and dogging Pollux's heels as the hounds stayed right at hers. "I should inflict you on Aunt Florimel." Pollux says in a slightly teasing tone as he picks up leading the ground into the castle. "She'd waste our time arguing with me." Brieanne replied, undaunted by the prospect. The entrance proves to be one of the servant entrances, and the desultory guard standing here looks askance at the appearance of the hounds. The presence of Brieanne, and Pollux, does not incur any comment except a bow of the head and a murmured "milord Prince, milady Princess" from him. Once inside of the Castle Pollux puts a hand on a page. "Run as fast as you are able to Princess Noys' quarters. Tell her I won my bet and she needs to get court clothes ready for Julian's daughter. And we need clothes for a male visitor to Court, but I can handle that. Don't dawdle." The page takes one look at the assembled group, and takes off at a speed that even Brieanne might have to put effort in outpacing. Brieanne watched the page go with an air of approval. "You'd think I put the hounds on him." "Some of us remember the last time you had the hounds in the Castle, cousin." Pollux says gently. "See!" Brieanne turned to Galen. "Nothing like a memorable example to make life easier the next time around." She sniffed and half shrugged. "Even if that's not what I was trying to do at the time.... I wasn't here....anymore." Then she gave Pollux and expectant look. The odds of him having her change in the hall were slim, but she wasn't leading this expedition. "All right, I just wanted to give Noys at least thirty seconds notice we were coming." "More than that, judging from the speed of the servant." Galen observes dryly. "Perhaps" Gazalarnith says. "Please lead on, Prince." Pollux nods and begins to lead Brieanne, Gaz, Galen and the two hounds through the castle. A pair of hellhounds at Brieanne's heels allows for the hallways to be clear and open much more than anyone might have a right to expect. Such, its not long before Pollux has the group assembled before the door of the quarters of the daughter of Eric. Brieanne didn't seem to notice the spaciousness of the castle. Her gaze fixed on some unseen point as she trotted along at Pollux's heel, silently tapping on WoundWeaver. Her door is open and the servant Pollux had sent ahead has apparently just been given marching orders. He eases past the group and is gone. Noys smiles. "With time of an essence, introductions and conversation will have to wait." Noys says. "Brieanne, come inside and we'll get you taken care of. Do you think your hounds would stay with Pollux and the gentlemen in the meantime?" With a blink, Brieanne came back from where her thoughts had wandered and she gave the hounds a dubious frown. "Without them getting anxious and chewing on furniture?" She shook her head slowly looking at the men. Gaz, maybe, could shout them down and keep them in place. Maybe. "I think they'd best just plant themselves and worry at their bones a bit." She looked at the drool soaked bones each hound still clutched, both panting softly through the corners of their mouths. "Down." She indicated a bare bit of stone floor, sparing anyone the need to clean the rugs and watched as the hounds settled themselves."Stay." Still worrying the bones, the pair of hounds sink to the ground, crunching and crackling the bones with perhaps a bit of worrisome gusto. Worrisome for people other than Brie anyway. "Fair enough." Pollux sounds slightly relieved that the hounds are not going with him, Gaz and Galen, and the three of them head off, down the corridor. This leaves, besides the hounds, only Noys. She rubs her hands in satisfaction. "So I've been informed that I need to dress you for Court on short notice. But you don't want to look like Asteria and Flora kidnapped you, is that correct?" she says as she ushers Brieanne inside of her chambers and closes the door. "No. No fancy, frilly things I can't move in because I have to go back. I want my old whites, like what I wore when Daddy was gone." Noys opens her mouth to speak, uncertainly. Alone with Noys and the hounds, she concentrated on a space of empty air, gaze narrowed, bringing a wooden closet door into focus. She reached forward, rainbows dancing at her fingertips as she shoved the door open. Behind her, Noys could see a closet, the frame of view ending in a folded back door. Brieanne shoved an armload of clothes out of her way, stretched into the Trump and grabbed a bag, pulling it through into Noys' room. Noys' uncertainly look changes to one of recognition, fascination, and interest. "These!" Satisfied, Brieanne dumped the bag over the back of a chair and yanked open the ties. The canvas parted to reveal layers of white leather. Pants, arm guards, a leather jerkin that was more breast plate and back plate than vest and a heavy hunting knife in a white sheath that fastened to her thigh. "Think it'll still fit?" Brieanne looked up at Noys hopefully. "You simply must tell me how you did that. Although I suspect you don't want me to tell many people that you can." Noys says. She moves forward and offers her arms to take the Ranger formal whites that Brieanne wore in the days when only she and her brother ruled the forest Arden, in the days when Gerard held the Castle, and Noys first came to the Castle herself. "Let's see." Noys says, taking the whites from Brieanne. She brings them to a bed and looks at them, and then at Brieanne. "You have managed to grow a bit." Noys says. "Well... probably." Brieanne looked down at herself. "It wouldn't be quite as good as having one of Asteria's minions do it, but I can adjust this, quickly, for you." Noys offer. "Some things you just don't forget." Brieanne looked around for a wash basin, quickly washing the dust from her hands, arms and face before discarding her old clothes. "I don't think I'm taller, just maybe a little ....'fuller' in places." She picked up the white cotton shirt that went under the jerkin and wiggled into it. It fit but it was tighter in the chest than it had been before. Brieanne frowned at her front and picked up the pants. They took more wiggling but she got them on. "I'm not sure if I could sit in these or not." She moved experimentally, trying to get comfortable before attempting the jerkin. "Of course, I don't know that I'll need to sit any time soon." "No, perhaps not." Noys says. She circles around Brieanne, looking at the overall effect. "It fits, but only just. I do think if you are going to do any more of these sorts of arrivals at Court, you really do need a new set." Brieanne nodded in agreement... of course, she was hoping she wouldn't be doing more arrivals at Court. "Right now, well, as you say." Noys smiles slightly "sitting down might be problematic." She takes Brieanne's hand and brings her over to a full length mirror. Brieanne can see that indeed, the uniform is tight, but it still fits, and it still marks her in a very martial, serious sort of mode. "Hmm..." Brieanne frowned, wanting to be more comfortable, and headed for Noys' dresser. She glanced at Noys, waiting to see if it was okay to dive in before she opened the drawer. "See, you were dressed in this the first time I met you, remember?" Noys says. "You were bringing some message to the Regent about something you and your brother tangled with in Arden. I had just been brought to the Court by Uncle Gerard for a week. I was in the corner of the big hall, waiting for Gerard's big announcement of naming me as Eric's daughter." Brieanne stripped while Noys talked, trading her old undershirt for the 'borrowed' one and loosening the laces along her ribs. The shirt peeked through the looser ties but nothing gaped or poked out and the white on white affect allowed it to blend. "Your news brought the house down, so to speak. It's funny, but I don't remember exactly what it was that you and your brother met." "A cat of some sort." Brieanne answered as she retied the laces and gave herself another look in the mirror. "It had extra front legs and tentacles and it was making a mess of everything and Carl sent me because no one seemed able to hit it and we were loosing men and hounds and then they'd lose the beast, too. I think he thought they'd deal with it before I got back, but I move fast and I was worried. I lost those whites in that fight. The thing came as close to gutting me as anything has ever gotten, but that's when I realized that it was never where we thought, that it was magic too and not just twisted and I closed my eyes and listened for it. Died just the same as everything else once we put enough holes in it." Satisfied that she'd be able to breath deeply if she had to, Brieanne turned away from the mirror to look at Noys. "You were wearing blue and you looked worried, but I didn't know who you were, and I didn't have time to talk." It was an apology of sorts, though no wrong had been done. "A whole other lifetime ago." Brieanne flashed a wistful smile and glanced at the mirror. "Good enough, I think. If people are looking at the lacing, I'll be insulted. It can't be said that you have to show a lot of skin to leave nothing to the imagination!" Covered from shoulder to ankles, the pants hem just brushing the floor, Brieanne donned the arm guards for otherwise bare arms, put her quiver and WoundWeaver in place, strapped the hunting knife to her thigh and gestured for Noys to lead the way. Backlinks |
