The Fall of Amber: Corwin's FollyIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | The Fall of Amber: Corwin's Folly
Larissa was approaching Corwin's Folly from above, so she could clearly make out the pocket of resistance which still formed a fragile ring around what might have been Gerard's shattered command post. They were being harrassed from above, and hammered at their edges, but a familiar enough man, dressed as a Ward Captain, was delivering orders to his troops. A teenage boy with sandy blond hair and a bloody halberd stood at his right. Larissa could tell that this force had no chance of retaking the Ward, let alone the rest of the city, given the forces arrayed against it, but it was holding this small patch of dirt for the time being. She made her way past their lines, a feat that required rather more effort than she had expected. Though Larissa had planned to bypass the group entirely in her search for Gerard, she stopped short when she got a good look at the Captain. "Damien?" She threw back her hood. "Where's Gerard?" The troops which formed the perimeter looked to their captain before allowing her to pass within the perimeter. As Larissa called this man 'Damien,' his eyes hardened somewhat. "Ah... I believe you have me confused with someone else. Captain Darling, at your service, Your Highness," he said respectfully enough, without diverting too much of his attention from the ongoing skermish. "Oh, fine," she muttered. Then, aloud, "My mistake, 'Captain Darling.'" "Your worthy uncle... I'm very sorry to have to say this, Your Highness, but he was beneath this building when the roof fell. I have been able to spare only two men to undertake a recovery of his body," he said quietly enough to not disturb the morale of his men. The young boy standing beside him looked both furious and frightful at what he overheard. "You know damn' well it would take more than that to kill Gerard, cousin," Larissa hissed, practically in his ear, only willing to play the 'Captain Darling' game when there were others in earshot. "Point me in the right direction and I'll leave you to your charade." "I am in an exposed position, and am as likely as not to be captured before the night is out. My ruse is far from sport... and put your hood up before someone recognizes you and our position is bombed again. If I divert more men to the task, if I don't coordinate our tactics, the position will fall and I won't be able to extract Gerard. As for whether it was enough to kill him in one blow, that is open for debate... that he could breathe rubble is not. Either he trumped out, and there is no body, or the press of the smouldering rubble has killed him. You would be best served retaking the city, while I preoccupy myself with this longshot rescue attempt," he hissed back into her own ear. "Where, Damien?" Larissa demanded icily. But she did put her hood up. He sighed and pointed, then returned to the lines with the blond boy at his heels to deal with the latest upswing of violence at one of his barricades. This holding action was a delicate thing. In the direction he had indicated, there were two guards working at clearing rubble. One clearly had a wounded arm in a sling, and was using his other arm to support a tower shield which protected both men from incoming arrow fire as well as concealing their position from the wyverns. The other had a field splint on his leg, and was working at clearing rubble while prone. The page who had summoned Larissa suddenly climbed back over the rubble towards Larissa, his face pale and strained. "Your Highness! I've found him! He's over here!" He beckoned her urgently to an area of rubble some hundred yards distant. Though she gave no outward sign, Larissa found the page's sudden appearance a little too convenient. "I thought I ordered you to stay as a runner for the archers," Larissa said, knowing full well she had given no such order. The page gawped at her, bewildered. "But, my Lady - you said no such thing!" Then he cast a nervous glance back over his shoulder, towards the twisted heap of fallen masonry. Larissa relaxed, fractionally. She motioned the page to show her as she jogged closer, still keeping some distance. The page scrambled over the rubble, hurrying now. There was a dark yawning hole in the side of what had once been the Club - the boy hesitated, looking at Larissa. "Do you want me to go first?" he quavered. "Yes," she said grimly. As soon as he was down the hole, she moved to follow him. After her eyes had adjusted to the darkness within, she pressed on. At first, she heard the boy's footsteps pit-patting before here in the darkness. She could see his vague outline, an even darkness against the surrounding gloom, pierced by shafts of light here and there. But the light was fading, and the air was becoming colder. It seemed as though they were deep within the bowels of the club now - and around her she could smell the heady aroma of brandy. They must be on the level of the wine cellars - the force of the explosion must have smashed the casks. The fumes seemed almost overpowering ... but there seemed to be a faint light up ahead. It was then she realised that she could no longer see the page at all. Larissa paused and held her breath, listening for the page. Hearing nothing after several seconds, she drew her sword. <<Bugger this,>> Larissa said (loosely translated) in Tradespeak, and started toward the light, slowly and en guarde. The light grew clearer ... and bluer ... Suddenly she emerged into a high-ceilinged underground room that seemed awash with light, reflected on the walls and ceiling and even the floor - although there was no hint as to wehere the light was coming from. On the floor, a heavy body was sprawled - with a pool of dakness spreading around him. There was no mistaking that size or shape of man - it was Gerard. And he was still breathing. <<How convenient,>> Larissa muttered. She worried her lip with her teeth, torn between suspicion and hope. Still, if there was even the slightest chance that this was not illusion... <<I hate high-risk investments,>> she griped to maybe-Gerard, or whomever was listening. Shutting her eyes against distractions, Larissa drew the glowing curves up the Pattern up from memory, to wrap around her mind as a defense. Once she assured herself that the mystical protection was in place, she opened her eyes again, to find out if she still saw Gerard lying there in the strange room. She did - although the pool of dark liquid around him was sprewading. He lifted his head and looked at her - and she saw his dark eyes, filled with pain. His mouth moved and something emerged with a gasp ... "Liddle ... Riss ... " No-one else called her Little Rissa in quite that way ... <<You didn't need to twist the knife,>> Larissa muttered to the air. <<I was going to walk into the trap anyway.>> The more sensible parts of her mind screaming at her to turn back, Larissa sprinted to Gerard's side. Her sword fell to the strangely-glowing floor as she dropped to her knees, reaching out to staunch the bleeding, or to grapple with a foe when the illusion melted away.... "Be careful," said another voice, cool and remote. "You're walking into the web of a powerful healing spell." Larissa's head whipped around. "Will my presence interefere with the spell?" she asked sharply. The light around her seemed to writhe, and twist ... and then settle. "No," said the man. "Not now." Gerard gave a faint, choking rumble of laughter. "It's too late for that now. You can cast all the spells you want, and it'll not buy me a moment's breath longer. The stranger sighed. "One can but try. I never sought to encompass your death." He had moved a little closer, but was still on the far side of the chamber. The blue flickering light made it hard to distinguish his features, but his hair seemed almost unaturally pale, and the bone structure of his face was clear and beautiful. The blue lights writhed a little and Gerard gave a sort of a snort. Then he stretched out a hand towards Larissa. Disregarding the stranger and the pool of blood slowly soaking into her trousers, Larissa took her uncle's hand, one set of fingers resting over his wrist, where the pulse beat thready and intermittent. "<<Oh, hell.>> Your peripheral circulation's going--where's the bleeding? Do you want me to do field surgery?" The quaver in her voice belied the apparent calmness of the words. "My legs," said Gerard. "My back too - can't feel anything below my waist. Bleeding into my chest too ... there's just too much, Little Rissa. The building came down on me ... I should have got out while I could." He closed his eyes briefly, and his lips twisted with pain. "You're going to have to let me go!" It was a gasp, and then his blue eyes opened, staring at Larissa, and then turning to the man beyond. That was the last thing Larissa could remember clearly about that day...
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