Coronation Masque: The Sound and the Fury

There is a great crash from one of the side-rooms, followed in short order by a scream.

Cambina looks at Jerod, and then turns her head to look at the King.

Jerod glances only momentarily in the direction of the scream while releasing his sister. "Show time..." he whispers. "Watch your back."

Knowing his uncles are faster, stronger, and usually smarter than he is (and that he has no sorcery skill to speak of), Jerod opts to disappear into the crowd which is certain to be shocked and looking in the direction of the scream. He's looking for whatever isn't behaving in that way and might constitute a new threat. If anything appears, he deals with it (four feet of sharpened steel does wonders sometimes).

On the floor, Random and Flora stop dancing. Random whispers something to Flora, who heads for the bandstand. Random exchanges glances with Caine, and perhaps passes some signal to him. Random seems to be waiting for something else.

"No party would be complete without one," Solange says, shaking her head. "The only question is, is it a simple matter of an overturned punch bowl or falling chandelier, or something worse? And should we investigate?"

Solace looks about at the movement of people and says "I think that's in one of the side rooms. There are people going already." She sounds a little frightened, but not terribly so.

Marius looks almost more relaxed than he has all evening, save for a slight time he spent after confronting Cambina. "It is just a different kind of dance," he says, almost in an explanatory fashion.

"Are you armed, Sir Otter?" she asks Marius.

Lucas and his lady cat have faltered in their waltzing as the music faltered at the sound of the scream, but are picking back up.

"As it happens, Otters do have claws," he says, casually touching where they had been readied at Aisling's strangeness. "But when in doubt, I also carry two of these," he makes fists and smiles at Solace warmly. "I see you ladies have them as well," although he is really asking, "Does the Sun have more than the brightness of her smile?"

However, the question asked suggests that there needs to be a more protective stance, and thusly, Marius will oblige. He is nothing if not a gentleman.

Wait a second... he's not really a gentleman. Hmmm.

"The heat of her rays, perhaps," Solange answers, lacing her fingers together and stretching her hands out in front of her in a gesture that says "loosening up for unarmed combat." She then turns them palm-up. "No more."

Marius smiles indulgently at Solange. "We are not without friends," he points out, pleasantly enough. He raises a hand to casually catch the eye of one of his Knights, Sir Xenial, dressed as a macaw.

Marius will smile and greet the man, and suggest that perhaps he would be so kind as to deliver a couple of messages. The messages are simple: one is to the Knights of the Ruby as may be found, and prepare them to help hold back the crowds from any unpleasantness. The second is to perhaps speak with one of the other groupings of royals (he's thinking Brennan's group) and give them the satisfaction of knowing that there will be little meihem from his corner that is not close (hand-to-hand) range.

Conner's first instinct is to rush to where the scream and crash came from especially since that's the direction he saw Brita and Robin wandering. However, he is forced to admit that anything those two can't handle would be rather beyond his abilites. "Well, it seems being normal is no longer necessary." Conner comments to Llewella. "Hmm. Vere seems to be in a hurry to find someone. That's worth looking into I think."

"We're on-stage, Conner, best diplomatic face outward. We should wait to see what the King does. You keep an eye on Vere." She pauses. "I suppose you've considered that that might be a shapeshifter who looks like your cousin?"

"All the more reason to keep an eye on him." Conner smiles. "Anyone moving with purpose is not an innocent bystander. Friend or foe is yet to be determined."

"Speaking of dangerous territory..." Reid gives up the pretense of waltzing, but doesn't necessarily relinquish Fiona's hand as he spins them towards the commotion. "Shall we?" He starts briskly clearing the way to Danger Central from where they stand, without much regard for formality or politeness.

[Assuming Reid is Chuck-sized, he's quite a bit taller than Fiona. Like on the order of a foot. Which leads me to:]

Fiona follows in Reid's wake. "Are you armed?" she asks him in a low voice.

"Never come to a family event naked, is my motto. Cousin Paige doesn't agree, unfortunately... But yes, I'm properly adorned. You?"

Fiona smiles at Reid's words, amused. She replies, "I have a dagger. I hope I'm better with it than I was last time."

The crowd is confused and frightened. A stampede is not imminent, but not out of the question, and Fiona could easily be in physical danger if she and Reid were separated.

Reid will make sure that doesn't happen. He's got a firm grip on her with his dominant hand, and will move at a pace that is deliberate, but won't afford her the chance of being pulled off her feet. They continue towards the fray...

Vere allows himself to think a silent swear word, and rapidly calculating the possibilities decides the best thing to do is to continue to focus on the Raven. Other members of the family will attend to the disturbance, if they aren't already involved.

He alters his course to intercept the Raven. Whether he aims to intercept him just before or just after he reaches his target depends upon what that target is, a fact that Vere is attempting to determine based on the Raven's trajectory and the focus of his attention.

The movement of the crowd baffles the Raven's path such that it's impossible for Vere to tell quite where he's going.

As Vere walks determinedly through the crowd, he passes by Mistress Free, a close friend of Lady Vesper's. Mistress Free's husband is a merchant and probably a little low-ranking to be in this crowd, which means Lady Vesper probably pulled some strings to get her an invitation. She is quite recognizable, in part because she weighs about 350 lbs.

[Think Shelley Winters from the Poseidon Adventure/Cleopatra Jones era, only much wider.]

Unfortunately for Vere, she trips over something as he walks by and drops her heaping plate of hors d'oeuvres all over his costume, staining it, and lands practically on top of him. Any mortal man would surely have been flattened beneath her bulk, but a son of Gerard is only distracted and staggered.

Mistress Free is apologetic. "My lord ghost, I'm so sorry, let me help you clean up--" she says as she begins to pat at the stains futilely with a napkin.

It's the sort of accident that used to happen to Lady Vesper all the time.

Vere steps back from her, waving off her attempts to clean his costume. "My fault, Mistress Free," he says, using most of his attention to relocate the Raven, and wondering just how coincidental this accident was. Worst possible interpretation would be that the Raven is a member of the Family, a Pattern initiate, aware that Vere was following him, and aware that Pattern abilities now work in Amber. Hopefully it's not that bad, but Vere notes the possibility. "This will wash easily, but I fear your lovely costume may not fare as well. Do see to yourself as quickly as possible."

Mistress Free is a bit flabbergasted by the whole thing, and Vere escapes.

And Vere is away from her, moving more quickly now, following the Raven if he has spotted him, if not then moving in the direction the Raven had been travelling and scanning the crowd for him.

The Phoenix's head snaps around. Green fire is lighting in his eyes - so much like his sister's - but just now his eyes look through the beak's nostrils, so the effect just misses being disconcerting.

Aisling jumps. Three silver threads, once around the only fingers on her right hand, fall severed to the floor, the noise of their arrival at their destination lost among the murmur of the crowd. The grey suede of her right glove is floppier without them.

"That," he pronounces, "has got to be a diversion." And, counting on only one man in the hall to see the whole picture despite the ruckus... he searches the crowd for Vere.

If he notices the vector of his father through the crowd along the way, he will not ignore this information.

Brennan obviously agrees, but he doesn't say anything. The air has been tense enough the past half hour that he has been expecting something to happen, and consequently barely twitches, except to make sure his hands are near his swords.

"I... I don't know," Folly counters uneasily. There are different kinds of screams; and she could feel the fear in that one, all the way to her teeth.

She scans the crowd again -- only this time, she's looking for Random.

Easy to spot, he's on the dance floor, and Flora is leaving him. He's giving signals to Caine. _hold up, let's see what they do..._

Its pretty much what Syd would do if a fight developed during a gig. Wait to see if it spilled out or died out.

Aisling checks the environment once again, with quick darting glances; anyone who didn't see before now has another chance to note that unlike many human-shaped things, she lives in three dimensions. Is there anything looking to, or coming for her with intent? Is there anything looking to, or coming for Ce'e with intent? Is there anything looking to, or coming for the king with intent?

A group of men in dragon costumes are coming towards your group. You don't see anyone going for Ce'e or Random. Vere just almost got run down by a 350 pound dowager, though.

Brennan shoots Jovian a look, half inquiring, but no more. He's going to assume Jovian knows what he's about.

The Phoenix notes Vere's position, plots his vector from the horsehair crest of the Charioteer, and narrows his crowd-scanning to an arc of moderately small angle off that vector, continuing across the floor. The ever-shifting sight line of a moving crowd doesn't help, surely, but being over six feet tall and having a vague idea what he's looking for, it's worth a shot.

Aisling narrowly watches to make sure he gets back up intact. Now, he's moving with intent. To what end, she spares a moment to scan for.

And then [Aisling] takes in Caine and Gerard and Benedict and Corwin's little group.

The one thing [Brennan] doesn't do is turn to look at the disturbance, unless he's already standing facing it. Rather, he looks in whatever direction will given him the widest view of the room (away from the nearest wall, if he's off to the side, for instance) and seems to be trying to take a perfect mental snapshot of the scene, looking for (or to later look for) any "wrong" reactions.

In a moment [Jovian] adds, tightly: "The castle will be cordoned against anyone leaving by air."

Robin scrambles up; tall, proud, glowing and furious. "Oh, no you don't!" She shouts with indignation. "This is our kingdom. We've fought for her. Suffered for her. Made her great. And scum like you don't get to crash our party!" At the same time, the Ranger starts and keeps up a steady barrage of wreckage from the side-board, flung hard with a vicious side-arm. But now she's aiming to main and kill.

You get a few off, He blocks a few and some seem to hit him, but he doesn't seem damaged.

She's also trying to inspire the blown party-goers to become similarly motivated to do the same (as opposed to acting like panicky sheep) - though she'll trip any idiot (besides Brita) who looks like they want to go for hand-to-hand. Hopefully, there's some military types among the downed guests who can be rallied.

No Rallying. Much cowering and scrambling away. Someone is dragging the bleeding guy away. The screamer is getting hysterical.

As a bonus this will hopefully keep the Chaosi's attention herward and with its back toward the main hall.

Brita is also up and, having lost the champagne on the way down, throws the mock battle axe forward with her right hand as her left reaches down to pull the not-mock war hammer. She quickly follows the battle axe, attempting to stay out of the line of fire from the Huntress. "If you didn't want the champagne, all you had to do was say so," she growls, half to herself.

He does not even bother to dodge the axe and smiles as he sees her pulling a weapon. He draws a wicked looking sword and leaps forward to attack, swinging a mighty blow that Brita manages to parry with her hammer's hilt. The force of the blow drives her back and costs her her momentum. He's a lot stronger than he looks.

"Cleph goes where he wills."

[Is he taller than Brita at 6'2"?]

On the order of her height. Six foot +.

Brita takes the blow with a soft grunt. Mentally, she is a little annoyed that everyone she gets to fight puts up such resistance [;)].

He fights like a God.

As the blow drives her back, Brita leans even farther backwards to draw 'Cleph' in, putting all her weight on her left leg. She then whips out with her right leg in an attempt to sweep his legs at the same time as she twists the hammer to her left in an attempt to drag his sword to the side.

Robin no longer has a clear shot at Cleph. And as he is away from the door, there is a rush on it from those who were previously trapped inside.

Cleph leaps over the leg sweep and Brita doesn't get the hammer back around into line. The sword has the hammer controlled and Cleph pushes it to the ground. As she starts to recover it, he completes the motion and hits her hard in the temple with the heavy pommel of his weapon.

Brita's head rings as she goes down. Her nostrils are filled with the smell of blood, both hers and that of the wounded. The bastard is smiling beneath his skull mask. If Brita is hurt, she cannot feel it, only the red rage that is threatening to overcome her.

It is possible that Cleph is succeeding due to luck (i.e. cards), but Brita's intuition tells her that he knows exactly what he's doing. He may be a better fighter than she is.

Aisling glances to Folly, a twist of fey humor around her lips as she answers her question, "Perhaps it will be easy!"

"Now I'm not so sure I want to find out," Folly replies with her own grim humor. "Or let anyone else, either." She's keeping a close eye on the crowd, ready to step in with a diversion of her own if things look like they might get out-of-hand.

"I think," Aisling states as if casually leaning her weight on an overstuffed suitcase, "that this commotion has been raised by a soldier whose wife ran off with another while he was gone, and who has gotten, regrettably, drunk. It should not merit more than a sidenote in tomorrow's gossip." That's a statement of intent. "I believe that my late comrades, the Otter and so forth, would come to the same conclusion. Perhaps my lady Swan could bring this to their attention?" Aisling is honestly offering Folly the job of recruiting Solange et al for crowd control and spin, willing to hear "no" or other ideas. She herself is glancing towards the noise as if she feels she should be there soon.

"If it's crowd control you want, we've got more immediate concerns, I think," Folly replies, glancing toward the nearby doors to the side-rooms. Brennan's original trajectory brought them toward those doors, so they should be in a good position to see the sudden surge of rattled partygoers fleeing Death, assuming said partygoers surge toward the main hall.

[Folly et al. are sort of at the foot of the dancing area, which puts Folly in the middle of the great hall. People are coming out of one of the groups of side rooms.]

Aisling's expression does not change as she takes in the surge of shrieking socialites. Except maybe she looks a tiny bit more like Benedict, for some reason.

[The socialites who are actually shrieking are still in the side room.]

[Well, so much for that smidgen of smirkiness... ;) ]

If they do, Folly crosses to meet them as they emerge, assessing their needs (injuries that need tending?), calming them down, finding out what happened. In particular, she tries to keep them in a group at the edge of the room (a bit away from the entrance) so they don't go spreading panic pell-mell through the crowd. (And how many people are we talking, here? Obviously she's got a much better shot at this if there are twenty of them than if there are seventy.) Aisling is welcome to join her in this, though Folly reads from her cousin's body language that she'd rather be on the other side of the doors assessing the threat -- and that's OK, too.

So much for sending Folly away from danger, Aisling thinks. But with way the situation is developing, yes, she is needed over there now... Aisling shoots a powerful gaze over to the Otter group, looking to catch someone's eye, so she can suggest with a tiny jerk of her head that they join them over there-- they're almost a perfect group for this.

Aisling thinks Solace has noticed her. There's another fellow there, perhaps receiving instructions from them based on his deferential posture.

Between the city reintegration and this sort of thing, perhaps she and Folly will get to be a decent team, and she couldn't have picked a better person for it, if only she didn't have to continually worry about Folly's safety...

[[Upshot: "I do what she does." ;)]] Except Aisling is playing the part of the helpful,-genteel-yet-indignant socialite, looking to spark other fires of indignation that burn within the lines of "Some people! Getting drunk and causing a scene at the King's Coronation Masque! Why, their mothers must be so humiliated!" So she's being comforting by offering a familiar foundation for people to stand on while they re-locate their spines and answer the call of the defense of social niceties.

Gerard starts wheeling his chariot through the milling and suddenly-confused crowd towards the Queen and her protectors. His horsehair-topped helm is clearly visible above the crowds as he rolls forward, a little heedless of interfering toes based on the number of squeaks and grunts from those nearby.

Ossian nudges the trio even closer to the wall and scans the room for anything that looks hostile. (Yeah, this is not the kind of situation Ossian is best adapted to.)

He throws a glance at Lilly, ready to follow any plan she has.

Lilly's stance changes. She looks like a tiger ready to pounce. For the moment she refrains from actually drawing the sword. There was no point in causing more panic. Her eyes were on fire as she scanned the room looking for anything that might be suspicious. Her most pressing concern though remained the queen. For now she was content to get the trio into a good defensible position and wait.

"Stay close to me. There is no need to panic just yet. I may not get a chance to warn you before reacting if it becomes necessary to go on the defensive so please listen to me now. If I draw my sword get as near to the wall as possible and remain at my rear." Lilly says to Ossian and Vialle. "I gave my word to the King that I would keep you safe your majesty and that is what I intend to do. Please trust me and follow my instructions if things become difficult. I know you wish to remain by your husbands side and I find that most noble. However I know from a warriors standpoint that it is best to not have to face distractions of any sort when dealing with an enemy. Worrying about the well fare of a loved one can indeed be such a distraction."

"I'll need [insert time (GM's please..)] to Trump us out." Ossian says.

[It's under a minute, but for Magic Formula purposes it fits into the minute category, because you have to establish contact, send Vialle through, and step through.]

Vialle says to Ossian, "What's happening?" She sounds vaguely panicked, but is trying to be brave.

"Damn. If I was taller... " Ossian stands on his toes, trying to see what happens. He turns to Vialle "Well, something happened in a side room; I cannot see what from here. That side room is so far away from us, that you should be safe from whatever happens there, at least.

"Gerard is heading our way, it seems." he adds.

Paige's comments are cut short by the scream.

"You seem overly optomisitc that we're going to make it to closing time, dear," Paige deadpans.

"I'll follow your lead," she says, ready to find that stiletto along her thigh without a care what she flashes to who...

Martin's mouth opens slightly as the scream fades. Then he shakes it off and what Paige can see of his expression goes deadly calm.

"This is the hit. Go to the band, keep them playing. No matter what, keep them playing. Relay any messages. I've gotta get to Dad. Go, go," he urges, relinquishing her.

He releases her and turns to move towards Random.

"You!" Robin commands in a strong confident voice, pointing at the shrieker. "Stifle it. Now!"

The Ranger soars into position, placing her body between the moving herd and the combatants, one hand pulling a sling from the small of her back, the other pulling sharp pointy beads from her hair. As the people rush by, Robin lays the force of her personality upon them. She is a Ranger and a Princess of Amber, and these are her people. She will protect and guard them. With glances and nods behind her, she attempts to calm and direct. No panic, just an orderly retreat.

The girl purses her lips. Last time, she didn't make it back with her report. This time, dammit, it was going to get there. Shortly a piercing whistle rises above the crowd, floating out to the room beyond in ranger code. 'One hostile engaged.' Robin tinges her tone to indicate to anyone who fought at Kolvir that the hostile is a Black Roader. 'Send back-up. Injured coming.'

People respond to Robin's presence and command and while there is the edge of panic, she manages to keep it suppressed. If there are Rangers in the next room (and there are!), they've received her message.

Sir Xenial pushes his way through the crowd, arrives and bows to the ladies.

Solace says, "Who is the Lady Moth? I think she's trying to get our attention--" and is interrupted by a piercing whistle from the side room.

"Alas, our attention is split many different directions, and the moth may only flutter to the flame." Marius doesn't seem particularly concerned.

"Meihem and malarky are words that such a man as yourself need not be concerned. However, it seems to me most imminent that we quell them in others." Your mission, should you choose to accept it... no, wait. That's been done before. "I believe that trouble has made its entrance, and however it is costumed, it did not have an invitation. While trouble is a Cousin of mine," he chuckles, "I claim no kinship to it if it puts others at risk. Certainly, I think we must round up any gatecrashers. If you and yours, at least of mine," he refers to the Order of the Ruby, "can begin to handle those of risk?" He gives the waggle of eyebrow that says quite clearly, "Comprende, mi amigo?"

"Consider it done, my lord," says Sir Xenial, and nods once to the ladies before leaving to follow Sir Marius' commands.

Folly and Aisling are able to herd some of the retreating people off away from the crowd to the extent that it's possible. They're unnerved and a little abashed.

Then there's a piercing whistle from the side room. The musicians stop playing, Folly notices, and not nicely either: they merely raggedly drop out of the tune. Everyone is unnerved, and Folly knows she will have to work hard to keep the people she has cornered from succumbing to fear again.

"Why, I know that sound!" Aisling says brightly, in one of those voices that carries much farther than the possessor of the voice thinks it does, "That's a Ranger whistle! I think it means, 'I've nearly overmatched something'... And look! Isn't that Prince Julian, there, the winged man, moving to tip the balance? He will get this sorted out in short order, you mark my words. Oh, to think that he had to take time out from celebrating to deal with this ill-mannered boor!" Aisling momentarily runs out of ways to lament the rudeness of the "drunk", and fixes some of the people she's been particularly working with a gaze to draw such things out of them.

Get people into the flow of scapegoating this social-contract-breaking guy for their fear: they'll forget about the details, they'll pick up the desire to prove their own adherence to the social contract by celebrating soberly... That's the ticket.

Meanwhile, Folly hears the orchestra die away and knows exactly what she has to do.

"Clearly, we should've hired more pub musicians," Folly says lightly to those around her. "They know how to play through a distraction or two." She is calm, collected, and in control, already fully in on-stage mode. "If you'll excuse me, please, I'm going to go see about the music." As she turns, she flashes Aisling a "keep doing what you're doing" look and then strides purposefully toward the orchestra, ready to rally the troops even if it means borrowing a violin and striking up the next number herself.

If she meets any cousins along the way who aren't already occupied, she directs them toward Aisling.

[Reid and Fiona push their way through the crowd....]

It's hard going. People are moving away from the screaming, which is continuing. A few people are moving towards it, mostly family or perhaps agents, and they all have to fight the tide of motion.

Julian, clearly recognizable by his white wings, is shoving his way genteelly through the crowd. One hand is on his blade, which he has not drawn yet. He starts to form up with Reid to make a protective wedge around Fiona, and his mouth is opening to speak when there's a piercing whistle from the room they're heading towards.

"That's Robin," Julian says, drawing his blade. And then he's shoving his way more urgently and even less politely through the mass of people pushing away from the fighting.

Reid pulls Fiona in Julian's wake, doing his best to stay close while at the same time not pulling Fi off her feet.

Fiona mutters halfway under her breath, "Whoever thought I'd spend the coronation ball of the new king chasing after Julian?" as Reid pulls her along. She's not quite running to keep up with him, but is definitely moving at a quicker pace than she might normally in this dress.

It might be spooky how much Brennan and Jovian think alike in some situations, given that they really haven't known each other more than a month or so.

Brennan's first thought, on seeing Vere blindsided by the partygoer was, "He was going somewhere." His second was, "Getting blindsided is not Vere's style, either." Not at all, not even disregarding his prior dancing with Robin.

He reaches the same conclusion Jovian does, in about the same time. And you know what? With people moving about in seemingly random ways, it seems very likely that the crowd will accidently jostle and swirl in a way that leaves Vere's quarry exposed to Brennan's or Jovian's view.

Granted, Brennan doesn't know that Vere was stalking a Raven, but the Raven was recently described as having been hunting Merlin, and Brennan is still in mind of black costumes.

The elusive mystery quarry is not spotted.

And yet, Brennan is persistent. Foolishly persistent, but persistent nonetheless.

Gerard arrives at about this time. "It's Gerard, Your Majesty. There's trouble afoot. Vere's spotted someone who he thinks is causing some of it. Red-headed fellow dressed as a raven. Plus whatever's happening in the side room. I've two shields and a short blade, if ye need 'em."

Gerard's voice seems to calm Vialle's nerves a little.

Lilly nods. "Good to know. My Queen wishes to remain near the King's side. I will abide by her wish as long as I deem it safe to do so. We have an exit planned should it become necessary."

There's a piercing whistle from the side room. It unnerves the people around Ossian and Lilly. Gerard frowns. "That's Ranger sign," he says.

A slight frown comes to the sword maiden's face. With silent grace she reaches for the hilt of her sword, pulling it free. At once she adopted a defensive posture that involved keeping the blade as low as possible. The feel of the blade in her hand calmed her nerves and aided her focus as she surveyed the crowd and waited.

There's a murmur from those nearby at the sight of the suddenly-bared steel of Lilly's blade. It ripples outward, as people nervously stop and stare.

There's a quiet "ah." from Ossian.

For the moment the safety of the Queen comes before anything else. Lilly needed to be prepared. Being prepared meant having the sword in hand. Let the crowd stare. It was not as if she was about to start slicing off heads, her posture was defensive after all. The fact that many of them might not realize the difference between a defensive and an offensive stance did not seem to be occurring to Lilly at the moment.

Ossian turns to Gerard and says quietly "I will Trump us out of here if things gets too bad. That sword of yours could be useful on the other side. If you don't want to keep it, that is."

Gerard hands him the blade. His expression is grim.

Ossian puts the sword in his belt.

Conner looks over. "Seems the King has stopped dancing. Still why waste a waltz." He smiles leading them at a slower pace for better viewing of the scene."

"You realize that you and I and Lucas are the only people left dancing?" Llewella asks. "Perhaps we ought to--" and then there's a piercing whistle that stops the musicians dead.

Conner recongizes the sound if not the meaning from his time in Arden with Brita. "Ranger sign." He murmurs looking towards the side. "Julian, Reid, and Fiona. If that's not enough, then we don't have enough." Conner turns his attention back to Vere and sees his hand gestures and those reacting to them. "Well, we either herd sheep, play guardian or start hunting. I think I'm in the mood to hunt."

"Are you armed?" asks Llewella. She moves along beside him, looking concerned.

"What would a dragon be without teeth and claws?" Conner replies, then more plainly. "Daggers in the boots."

Off to one side, Gerard and Lilly and Ossian are with Vialle; Lilly's blade is bare, to the consternation of those nearby. Flora and Paige are trying to get the music going again, but no one is dancing. Random is standing around watching everyone else; Martin has a hand on his arm and appears to be speaking to him urgently. Corwin is still talking to Merlin, but he's drawn his blade.

Conner has a very bad feeling about all this. It's not going to rank as one of Random's most successful parties, he's certain.

"From now on, I think non masked parties should be the norm." He comments dryly, moving towards Vere and seeing if he can spot where Vere is headed.

Vere catches sight of the Raven. He's moving off in a somewhat different direction, as if his own target has moved.

There's a piercing whistle from the side room. It startles everyone, including the Raven.

Vere uses the moment of startlement to attempt to spot potential targets, considering who has moved from the direction the Raven was originally heading to the direction he is now moving towards. He's also on guard now against potential distractions, he does not wish to be taken by surprise by any more third parties.

As well, he's peripherally aware of the positions of all family members that are within his sight, and if any of them give him more than a passing glance he intends to attempt to direct their attention to the Raven through subtle hand gestures.

[To make them visible, they're about as subtle as stage signals to an engineer. If the Raven has made Vere, he wouldn't miss the signals.]

Vere sees the Raven approach a woman in a dark garb. She's not necessarily Cambina, but costumed similarly.

By prior agreement with the GMs, Brennan has seen Vere's hand gestures, and so....

The dragonriders arrive and L'tarn is about to speak when a piercing whistle rises above the crowd. Anyone looking in the direction of the kerfuffle is likely to see Julian draw a blade and increase his speed towards the side chambers.

Jovian, who is attuned to such things, hears a dragon roar. Or perhaps it is in his head.

...hopefully this doesn't overlap too badly, and Jovian catches it.

"When I do this," Brennan makes a quick gesture, brushing his hand through his hair, "I'm looking in the right direction."

With that, Brennan begins to move cautiously in the direction Vere is trying to indicate. Where possible, he uses his height to get a good look in that direction, looking for anything suspicious.

Jovian nods to Brennan, having not quite heard but generally gotten the idea he knows where he's going and what that implies. The dragonman keeps tabs on his brother Knight's progress through the crowd. After a few seconds he gestures for L'tarn without looking at him. "The Fox is hunting. Look ahead of him for a redhead in a raven mask." His look of concentration is intense.

Having seen Vere get run over, Brennan is a lot less inclined to waste time with similar distractions. Anyone less than Family bumping into him (or Vialle) or getting in his way gets quickly stepped around, or subtly elbowed and a hand-written letter of apology the next day-- if we all survive the Masque.

He's as alert as he can reasonably be for other such spontaneous impediments as well.

It's hard for Jerod to tell what's going on. He sees a lot of people moving around, mostly away from the screaming, but not all. Various people who look like family members aren't doing that, but they might not be who they seem.

It looks like Martin's moving towards his father, but he is hidden behind that half-mask. It could be someone else. Cambina's over there too. Is that really Caine with M? Hard to be sure. There are too damned many people in black at this shindig.

There's a piercing whistle from the melee. People about the room start at the sound, and some are moving about with purpose. Jerod doesn't recognize all of them. Julian, who was moving for the door, has drawn his blade.

And is Julian focussed on one individual?

Julian is heading towards the melee, the screaming, and the whistle.

If Jerod cannot figure that part out, then he was going to fall back to plan #3 - watch the King and guard that point. But if Martin (and we cannot assume that everyone is a shapeshifter cause that would make it too much like Call of Cthulhu) is heading for the King, then Jerod goes to plan #2 - where's Folly? Once she's found, move into position close by. Jerod's figuring she won't be far from Martin and the King.

Random is on the dance floor, observing the situation. Martin is talking to him. Something about his posture and demeanor suggests urgency.

Folly was over by the door/archway where the fleeing people are emerging, doing her level best to calm them. She is quite some ways away from Martin and Random. There's no way they can have a sight line on each other, given that she's short and he's not tall. Aisling is also over by Folly, helping her.

Folly does seem to be heading towards the musicians, which will take her back in the direction of Martin and Random.

Knowing Uncle Julian will help deal with the situation over there, Jerod moves fully into plan #2. He'll move into Folly's wake, keeping on her perimeter but not disturbing her. He doubts that she is threatened, but Martin has more knowledge of Chaos than he has let Jerod know about. And if Martin knows about them, Jerod assumes the enemy knows about Martin, and his weaknesses. If he can, he'll keep Martin and the King in view along with her.

The emerald dragon curtsies to the black swan and moves toward the bandstand. Seeing Aunt Flora there, she smiles, "So what's the next set?"

"Anything I can get them to play," says Flora, a little grimly, under her breath. She's waving to the musicians, who are starting, haltingly, to pick the waltz back up again.

She adds, "Smile, dear. The Royal family must be a model for the people, and right now we need the people to be brave. And since His Majesty seems to be falling down on the job, we must pick up the slack."

Paige's green lips slide upward in a practiced manner. Her mask keeps the assembled from noticing that it doesn't meet the hazel eyes, scanning the room from a better vantage.

Paige can see Lilly and Ossian and Gerard with Vialle; Lilly has drawn her blade, to the consternation of the crowd. Llewella and Conner are headed away, as if they've spotted something. Random is still standing on the dance floor, observing the situation; Martin is by him, one hand laid on his arm, his posture bespeaking urgency. Paige surmises he's trying to get his father out.

She chuckles to herself, "Know thyself, know thy Father, young prince. He knows his place is here, and you wouldn't leave either."

Corwin is still with Merlin. The younger man looks unnerved, and the elder has drawn his sword.

There's no sign of Paige's father.

A moment of concern passes before it registers. Troublemaker would be bringing the reserves, it's what he does.

Julian is leading Reid and Fiona in the direction of the screaming. There are Rangers over there helping people out. There are others moving in the crowd, too, many of whom Paige doesn't recognize. Knights, perhaps? Others in the Royal service?

Folly is headed in Paige's general direction, or perhaps Martin and Random's.

The crowd is wary and frightened. It wouldn't take much to cause a serious panic.

Paige turns to speak to Flora only to be rudely interrupted...

Brita is pissed enough with being beat down by a party crasher who has no concern for innocent lives that her control quickly snaps. She goes Berserker. [Assuming Cleph is still over her - if not, describe the scene, please] Having gone down on her left side (she was leaning that way in her attack move), Brita continues the roll, coming up on her right knee with a Berserker yell that would do Uncle Thor proud as she swings the hammer out from under her and back at Cleph.

Robin takes advantage of her cousin's fall to launch a barrage of deadly pointed missiles at her opponent. She steps forward from the flow of people slightly, as her hands rapidly fill and launch from the sling in a blur of speed. Her expression is confident and proud (for the benefit of the retreating partygoers) but in her eyes an eerie green fire is burning and a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

Cleph steps back with remarkable speed and ducks to avoid the majority of Robin's projectiles, although some almost certainly hit his cloak and likely him. He times this so that he also neatly sidesteps Brita's powerful swing with the warhammer. His sword clatters to the ground and his grin is feral. Before she can recover from her swing, he has closed. He bends down, wrapping an arm around Brita, they are too close for her weapon to come to bear, and he looks as if he is about to stand.

He is again too close to Brita for Robin to get a clean shot, except at his right arm, which is akimbo.

Prince Julian has just reached the doorway and has instantly taken in the scene.

Brita attempts to head butt the idiot that has gotten close enough to her. She will also surge upwards, trying to unbalance him before he gets a chance to stand.

[Meta: Cards do not look favorably on Blonde Redheads. Also, your Berserker nature has kept you from noticing that your knee gave way in that smashdown and won't help you surge up.]

Brita attempts to surge upwards in a head butt, but she finds she has no power to put behind the surge. Cleph rises, his arm wrapped close around a writhing wildcat. Brita attacks but he maintains his grip. He seems to be making soothing sounds as one would to a cat that did not want to be held.

Or a lamb being led to the slaughter.

"Calls itself Cleph, sir. And it's pulling its punches. Don't know why yet." Robin reports tersely as she looses another barrage at the akimbo arm. Her eagerness for combat pulling yet a little further from the herd moving behind her, but she still keeps the shepherding presence on full power.

Brennan rapidly crosses the floor, scanning for trouble or impediments, seeking whatever or whoever it is that Vere has been following. The crowd is remarkably thick and many people are trying to see over their fellows to watch whatever has armed Princes chasing after crashes, screams and whistles. Brennan gets around a group of elaborately costumed Llamas with large headdresses when he spots both Vere and, apparently Vere's quarry. A man in a black costume meets a woman similarly attired and Brennan sees them both pressing their hands firmly down towards the floor and rising into the air.

The woman he immediately recognizes as Dara, but the man, he realizes with a shock, could easily be confused for Brennan himself.

Or Brand.

The ragged silence following the crash and the scream grows slightly longer and those with discerning ears can hear something very loud roaring outside. It is a sound reminiscent of the monster attacks of the Black Road days, but it seems far away. Those who hear feel conflicting urges both to run and hide and to rush to a window to see if Amber is indeed under attack again. Random, in the center of the dance floor, is the center of attention for most in the crowd.

Before more than a measure of silence is filled by the faraway sounds, two figures rise majestically from the edge of the crowd. The woman is wearing a black gown with a white ruff and the man wears a bird costume, the head thrown back to reveal a face that looks tantalizingly familiar. He seems smug.

Brennan calmly, casually, if somehwat belatedly, runs a hand through his hair. Just in case, y'know, Jovian or some of his sharp-eyed dragonriders, or anyone else in the entire room managed to miss the spectacle.

Anyone who knows the signal and saw it now has no doubts. Sadly, the dragonriders are sorta tied up right now.

Yes, well, it was intended as momentary tension-breaking levity, not something that would have an actual effect. I mean, how do you miss two Chaosi floating above the ballroom?

Aisling scans the room in lightning glances again, noting how the danger situation has changed for those she's looking out for.

No one seems to be in any more danger than anyone else, except for Julian, Reid, and Fiona, who are attempting to get to whoever is causing all that banging in the side-room.

As they finish rising, he takes a quck glance around the room, trying to account for Cambina and his Elders if he can, but otherwise not moving.

In a voice which seems to carry unnaturally through the crowd, the woman speaks.

"Hear me, Random King of Amber, there will be no security and no peace in Amber until you give me recompense for my losses. I demand blood payment for my father and I demand the return of my son whom you hold! Thus speaks Dara, Duchess Borel!"

And Jerod thinks that it would be a good idea to move to Paris right about now. He could get to like Uncle Corwin, after a fashion I suppose.

A number of thoughts pass through Brennan's mind, and probably across his face. 'Ah, still dangerously insane,' is one of them. 'Can't dance until you quit with the hot air balloon trick, snookums,' is another.

Everyone who can hear Brennan's thoughts snickers.

By the time she's finished her speech laying claim to Merlin as personal property, though, the only thoughts running through his mind are de facto declarations of war of Amber against Borel, and probably the rest of Chaos. But that's formally Random's job, so he's pretty sure he doesn't actually say any of them.

Four weeks ago and a cosmos away, Brennan drew his blades and placed them across his knees when the Moonriders appeared through the curtain of advancing rain. His blades belonged to Benedict.

It's unlikely that Random can see Brennan now, given the height differential, or that he is looking at Brennan, given the other distractions. But, while Brennan does not actually draw his blades in the middle of the party, he places one hand on either with calm dignity. His blades belong to the King.

[Note: Crowd control is someone else's job. If the crowd around Brennan takes comfort from his calm reaction, so much the better. But it is not his primary intent. His primary intent is to be ready for whatever scrimmage is coming up.]

Aisling's probably masked better than anyone who might look at her could see through; one might guess, though, just on general principles, that she's angry. /I-could-trigger-a-lynch-mob-but-no-I-mustn't-cause-a-riot-but-a-group-hate, now-that-might-be-productive.../

Even before Dara finishes speaking, Aisling is hissing, like at the villain in one of the melodramas on Flat Street... And she punctuates a strong hiss with a bit of easily-overheard chatter from the slip-of-an-uncowed-socialite she's playing currently, "Of all the vulgarity! If she wants to float, the only place she belongs is in a Parade!" Pause for people to catch that, probably in which time Solange launches into action, and the situation changes again...

A few people nearby catch it, although you're not sure how they're taking it. Most people seem to be waiting on Random.

Well, scores and scores heard it. They'll laugh tomorrow, if they live.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Still moving, Folly scans the crowd. She's got a pretty good idea where Random is: that's probably where everyone who's not looking at Dara is facing. But she can't actually see him -- or Martin.

Shit. Why couldn't she have a thing for tall men?

Her fingers tense into fists -- and she realizes she's still got her Trump case palmed in her left hand. Maybe she could.... No, it's no good. She's almost reached the orchestra, which puts her about as far as possible from the emergency exits; and anyhow the emergency exits seem all full of emergencies of their own....

And then she emerges from the edge of the crowd at the orchestra... and sees Paige. She closes the gap between them, her jaw set, her footsteps double-time, and slips her free hand into Paige's.

"Can you trump somewhere safe and contact Merle?" she asks in an urgent whisper. "-- In case we need to get him out of here in a hurry. I'll try to reach Martin, tell him to get close to his dad -- you can pull them out too if things get bad...."

"Like either of your men have enough common sense to do that," Paige says turning to look toward the King and Prince in the eye of the storm.

Under slightly less stressful circumstances, it might occur to Folly to be alarmed that Paige said that out loud, in public -- within earshot of Flora, no less. As it is, though, her only reaction is a tiny quirk of her lips.

"I'll do what I can, but you've got to help like only you can," [Paige] nods toward the still-fumbling musicians. "If ever Syd needed you as backup it's now."

Folly nods, gives Paige's hand a gentle squeeze for luck, and takes her place with the orchestra. It takes her but a few seconds to get her gloves off and a violin in her hands.

Paige fans the two cards, her home in 'Frisco and the room at Maria's. Quickly the Shadow Earth Trump goes back to the bottom, based on the fact that she hasn't tried it since it became cool again. Then her eyes are back to the floor show...

A moment later, a clear treble line, full of gentle strength and confidence, trills like birdsong through the room.

No one familiar with Folly's music has any doubt who's behind it.

The music flows like honey into the grand hall, and those who hear it tend to be taken by the dichotomy of the confidence and the tense situation. The bandstand is mostly abandoned and the musicians who are nearby do not seem inclined to regain their abandoned seats.

Under his gauzy hood Vere lifts an eyebrow and idly wonders what sorts of defenses those two have in place if they're willing to make themselves such easy targets in a room containing some of the finest warriors in existence. However, that isn't his concern at the moment. Dara and her companion have made themselves known, following their moves is no longer his duty. Instead, he falls back towards a wall, finding a good spot to watch as much of the room as possible. There are two of them taking center stage, and something going on in one of the side rooms, but that by no means proves that there are not more accomplices waiting to take the opportunity provided by Dara's distraction. If anyone is doing anything other than watching the levitating Chaosi Vere intends to spot them.

Vere sees dozens of potential trouble-spots: people ducking out, Venesch moving towards Random, (or is it a shapeshifter who looks like the captain of the guard?), Solange has attacked Dara, people moving near the champagne fountain room, lots of people with their hands concealed. There are too many threats to catalog adequately.

He's also listening keenly to the roaring from outside, trying to determine if it's getting closer, and if it sounds like something that might have come out of the Black Forest.

It's getting quieter, and it seems like it could have come out of the Black Forest. It sounds like something inhuman or several inhuman somethings are very angry.

Vere has stopped moving and so has most everybody else while Dara makes her speech. Llewella has stopped too, and is watching Dara.

Jerod ends up at the edge of the dance floor, with a decent sight line for both Martin and Random on one hand and Folly, Paige, and Flora on the other.

Martin has his blade drawn and releases his father's arm, which he was holding with the other hand, to knock the swan-bill off the front of his helm. It breaks so easily and precisely that Martin prepared it in advance to break that way or helped it along with Pattern, or both. Martin is keeping an eye on Dara, but is alert for an attack from some other direction now that he can see what he's doing.

[Jerod can also see and hear Folly's actions as described in the Paige-Folly thread.]

"Cousin, I'm going to open the Trump. That way it only takes a moment to drag us through. I won't be able to hear or see what happens in here, though." Ossian reaches out and takes Lilly's free hand in his. "Give my hand a good squeeze and I'll pull us through.

"If you want me to break the Trump contact; tell me so. You might have to shout."

"Yes. That is a wise idea. I would ask that you signal me when the contact is made. Again I believe a simple squeeze of the hand should suffice." Though she was speaking to Ossian, her eyes never made contact with his. She was far to busy scanning every inch of the room, looking for any further signs of trouble. There was no way she was going to let her attention be strictly drawn to the figures floating overhead. That would give an enemy too much of an opening.

Gerard has one of the shields on his arm. He rolls to one side and pushes Vialle behind him, shielding her from Dara with his bulk and that of his chair. Vialle is silent. Whether her silence stems from terror or good judgement is unclear.

Ossian does not wait for Random and Dara to finish. (He hopes one of his cousins will give him a detailed description of what happened later.)

"Hang on to my arm." he murmurs to Vialle.

He shifts the way he holds Vialle's arm and flips the Trump from under Vialle's hand. As soon as he has the Beach Trump visible he opens the trump contact. (For clarity: Ossian now stands hand in hand with Lilly, and arm in arm with Vialle, with the Trump in the hand of the arm that holds Vialle.) As soon as the Trump is opened he squeezes Lilly's hand firmly.

Solange reaches behind her head and grabs the jeweled end of a hair ornament.

"I hope this'll provide a distraction, at least," she murmurs to her companions. "You might want to duck."

And with that, she whips a very sharp, pointy dart with a fetching emerald finial at the hovering Dara.

"I like the way you think, Lady Sun," Marius mentions. He does intend to move out of the way, as long as "out of the way" still provides some sort of shielding for Solace. As it is, he does not think himself necessary to the task of stopping them, as long as dialogue is what they seek. If they ask for sharp blades he will attempt to provide them for their guests, as unwelcome as they may be.

Solace is torn between looking at Dara and glancing about the room, probably for her husband.

Cleph's free hand sparks as he draws it down, a single finger outstretched as if he were scratching the air. There is a sound like claws against a chalkboard and the space his finger has passed through opens like a wound. The rip in space reveals an empty place beyond. Cleph begins to step through, dragging Brita with him.

Robin notes that her missiles that hit this rent cross into another space. Whatever is on the far side of the opening, an icy breeze is coming out from it.

"Stay back!" Julian replies to Robin. He is pushing his way through to Cleph, and it is unclear if he will arrive before or after Cleph crosses pulls Brita through to the other side.

Reid and Fiona enter the room and see the action. Fiona yells "My baby!" and drives through the stragglers after Julian.

[People in this room (including Reid, Fiona, Julian, Robin, Brita) are not subject to the card attack. Lucky you!]

Reid follows his former dance partner in hot pursuit. "I'm getting too old for this $#!+"

Robin drops the sling and, despite the fact that Fiona is in the room, calls forth the heritage of Amber that she's been holding smoldering within her. Blue fire flares along her nerves with a 'foomph' of power.

Brita's blood on the floor. A fake ax thrown and disregarded. A man whose attention is on the struggling woman in his arms, and the rent he's created, and two of Amber's finest charging him. A simple misstep.

As Cleph begins to step into the reft, his foot comes down on Brita's ax, which skitters out from under him on the slick floor. Causing him to fall skid backward toward this side of the rip. If he ends up actually falling - with Brita on top of him - so much the better.

[META: this doesn't work as described. He's right beside the rift, since he made it with his hand. Best you could do is knock him through. Also, Brita hasn't really bled here (she was punched, not stabbed) and the axe was thrown before the two of them closed, so it isn't in the right place. Given that no amount of probability manipulation can make something impossible happen, we'll assume that Robin is trying to make him trip, preferably forward, since that honors the intent of the post the closest. All that said, however...]

He doesn't trip.

Brita continues to writhe: kicking with her good leg, "punching" with her bad knee (the thigh muscles still work, don't they?), and using her hands to poke out eyes, box ears, or grab anything she can to distract him. When she sees the "doorway", Brita will also spread out her six foot+ frame in an attempt to catch the edges of the "door" or anything else nearby. She is NOT going easily into the void.

Dara is paying attention to Random and so does not notice the speeding dart until it passes by her, some feet away, and falls to the floor.

"Well, 'King' Random? Is that your answer? I demand so much more than one poorly executed attack." Dara has what might be a deck of cards in her free hand and is spreading them.

Random looks towards Solange, then back at Dara. He pulls himself taller and replies. "My answer is that you have no right to come here making demands. And if you come in war against us, then all there is for you here is a cell. You'll have my old one. It can be made comfortable enough."

Beside her, the smug young man seems to be doing something.

She laughs, bell-like tones ringing incongruously throughout the place. It is a sound that is disturbingly familiar to those who fought at the abyss. "You can't take me and you can't hold me. I am the heir to Borel's demesne and I will have my due."

Random shrugs. "If that's the way you want it, so be it." He nods, once, abruptly.

"As you will." She says, and flings the cards in her hands outward in a great arc that covers most of the hall. They move unnaturally and there are many, many more of them than can be accounted for by mere numbers and they are accelerating towards almost all of the crowd. There are screams as the closest observers are hit by the attack.

Although few can spare the attention to see it, the familiar looking man's free hand sparks as he draws it down, a single finger outstretched as if he were scratching the air. There is a sound like claws against a chalkboard and the space his finger has passed through opens like a wound. The rip in space reveals an empty place beyond.

Folly plays through the exchange between Dara and Syd and she suspects that she helped him, if not with her power than with her steadying presence and musical familiarity.

Neat trick...buddy with the claws that rip open space is very interesting. A pity Jerod can't talk to him without probably having to try to kill him...:)

Jerod will be armed once he sees Martin so - he doesn't waste any time (yes he's always armed and voluminous robes are really nice for carrying swords at costume parties).

Also some poor schmuck (the GMs may choose) gets the unfortunate duty of falling into the path of the card meant for Folly. Jerod is absolutely certain that's going to happen (yes, I know, he's Eric's kid. Mean, nasty, ruthless - but he made a promise and he keeps it. How he keeps it is just a minor detail.)

Oh, and assuming he's got a chance, he ducks...:)

Folly, concentrating on her music, has perhaps not kept as close an eye on Dara as she should've. And so, by the time she realizes what is happening, all she can manage is a forceful "Get down!" to the people around her while dropping to the ground herself.

A wingless emerald Asian dragon soars incongruously over the bandstand, stooping on a sitting duc^h^h^h^swan, hopefully bowling it over and out of the path of the missile. As the tense moments seem to elongate during her flight, Paige finds herself scanning the crowd for the Devil and then impacting Folly.

The Devil has stepped in front of the dragonriders and is doing something with his sword. Perhaps he is parrying cards...

Vere immediately moves to push as many of the noncombatants to the ground as quickly as he can manage, shouting "Get down!" to those that he can't reach. He's more concerned with protecting as many of the women, children and elderly as possible than he is with getting out of the way of the cards himself.

Aisling glides to the side, to see if the card heading for her tracks her specifically. If it does, she'll put one of the particularly sheep-like of this lot of cowardly wastes of blood between her and it... She dodged the direction she did on purpose.

[Per IM with Madeline, 'glide' doesn't quite capture the required urgency. "Aisling moves to the side, gracefully, but with all required haste, to see if..."]

The card does not track Aisling, they are dangerous in their individual selves and in their shotgun like quantity. This attack could have staggered a charging Army. Perhaps if Borel hadn't gotten distracted by Corwin, things might have been different on the field...

In any case, Aisling manages to avoid being hit.

What she wants to do is disembowel Dara with her bare hands, and then walk around smacking various people with the steaming reeking entrails. But she's too far away to get there in time.

"Should've beena sorcerer like Mother wanted." Conner murmurs. His arm lashes out and grabs a metal serving tray abandoned by a panicked server and procceds to use his makeshift shield to guard himself and Llewella.

Conner holds up a tray, brightly polished silver reflecting Llewella's image and his own. He adroitly stops two cards which clang like thrown rocks against his makeshift shield.

Solange quickly moves her wings to "displayed" and turns her back, stepping in front of her companions so that they're at least a little shielded from the oncoming cards.

Well someone has to do something action-oriented and suicidal, er, daring.

In Brennan's minds-eye, there is a smooth, flowing image:

He takes a step forward, down into a crouch.

Brennan times this well, and two cards pass harmlessly over his head, although it is possible that someone further behind him may not be so fortunate.

He retrieves the throwing knives at his boots-- they had some moderate success against Grackleflints, as Brennan recalls.

He takes a second step forward, out of the crouch, throwing one at Dara and the other at the man who could be a long-lost brother. Bonus points if it lodges in his throat right where Caine's arrow hit Brand.

//J'lin g...//

Canareth's strong response comes as soon as you open your mind to speak to him.

//Anger! Anger! Intruder! Defend the Clutch! Kill it! Kill it!//

Canareth is enraged and you can almost feel the wind on his back as he flies. And you get a faint echo of a vision of Brita being attacked by a man who looks like Caine.

In an instant's mental focus there is nothing of Jovian left except the sheer strength of his bloodline - he is utterly J'rim, and he is of Canareth, and he is In Control.

The full force of his will comes to bear on his leviathan bondmate. Bright, sharp, pure focus...commanding without words as he did over the Abyss. ~Trap the intruder,~ the force of his will impels. ~The Sire defends. The wings will not let it escape!~ The fire in J'rim is laser- tight, drawing a saurian grid that no being within could slip through.

J'rim's strong, even touch brings the wild wrath of his partner under some measure of control and his will is battered by more than a score of angry dragons reflecting and amplifing a huge surge of emotion and anger amongst themselves. After a moment or so, it is clear to J'rim that his will is holding and that he and Canareth are beginning to help the others maintain or regain control. The two push their power out, a steadying that all the dragons and riders need.

J'rim maintains his focus on the dragons and takes in the scene. Surrounding him are his most senior riders, sweat on their foreheads and eyes closed, apparently fighting the same mental battle he is engaged in.

Somewhere nearby, a flying woman is speaking. J'rim sees her throw what seems to be a pack of cards. They are flying everywhere out from her and some are heading right at him and the riders.

J'rim seizes the shoulder on either side of him and pulls as he drops to one knee; when he's sure they're following he whips the wings of his cloak forward and to the sides - a defensive move fit to be echoed by cavalier-era duelists all over Shadow. The swirling motion also happens to bring his right hand over and down to V'laren's hip area.

V'laren has his belt knife, because he always has his belt knife. He's never without it, therefore he must have it.

He doesn't. If he brought a knife to an event where he would be in the presence of the King (like a coronation, knighting, or ball), it would be taken away from him. If they couldn't take it away from him, Julian, Jerod, or Jovian would have been summoned to do it. As he is in the hall, he has no knife.

No NPCs are armed unless they meet one of three criteria:
1: They are members of the Royal Family. Sons and Daughters of family members are in a gray area. It's probably officially wrong, but tolerated. Random may have something to say about that later.
2: They are members of the Castle Guard or the King or Queen's Bodyguard (Lilly).
3: They are willing to risk trouble.

~Hold. Prevent escape.~

Lilly reacts in way any overconfident person wielding a sword would when faced with a deck of playing cards, she tries to cut them in pieces while knocking them from the air. Not just hers either. Any card within a few feet of her is fair game as far as Lilly is concerned. Her main goal is to keep the cards as far from Vialle as possible.

None of the cards come close to Lilly's little huddle. They are miraculously spared.

Also, as soon as Ossian Squeezes her hand, she is squeezing back. She wants Vialle out of here ASAP. Things are getting just a bit too strange for her taste.

[Ossian doesn't know what happened, but he has not been hit or wounded.]

Paige lands atop Folly, knocking her out of her chair and landing on top of her. Folly's head hits the music stand behind her and it smarts, but the dangerous cards don't hit either of them.

There is an instant of quiet, like the silence after an explosion. Near the front of the bandstand, Folly sees at least one musician on the floor, bleeding. Beyond the bandstand, she sees a number of people down on the dance floor, Martin is on top of Syd. There doesn't seem to be any blood and they're both moving. Unlike some of the people near them, like Lucas and Cambina.

Two cards lodge in the supports of Solange's wings. Marius, Solace, and Solange are all uninjured.

Everyone around them stands stunned for a moment as Dara and her companion vanish.

"Sir Otter," Solange asks, "do you think it's possible to remove the cards I've caught without injuring youself? Someone ought to have a look at them."

If the answer is "yes," then Marius makes the appropriate grunt and does so. He'll want a look at them.

He looks wistfully at the place where Dara and Friend vanished for a moment, but won't say what he's wistful for, exactly.

Brennan surges up and knows that he will miss; his targets are disappearing into the opening ripped into space beside them. Brennan throws anyway, hoping for a lucky shot into the void, but misses. He does see Dara get hit by something from behind before she is pulled through. Didn't look fatal, but perhaps you all could be lucky.

After they disappear, there is an instant of stunned silence from the bleeding and battered crowd in the ballroom.

If the card aimed at him didn't go over his head when he crouched, and if he has time, he'll side step. If he's able, his next intent is find Cambina and make sure she's all right, but no doubt events will overcome that intent.

Cambina was on the dance floor. She's down. You don't know if she ducked or fell. Lucas is lying next to her. There's a pool of blood. Neither is moving. Nearby is Martin and it's likely that Random is underneath him. They look like they're moving and there isn't any blood there.

Merlin and Corwin have been standing on the edge of the dance floor where Paige and Jerod abandoned them. Corwin has Grayswandir in hand by the time of the attack.

Merlin reacts to the attack with amazing speed, snatching the blade from his father's hand and passing it, vertically, as if it were a staff, in an arc between himself and Corwin on one side and the cards on the other. He speaks three syllables as he makes the arc, but no one can hear them clearly enough to make sense of them.

In the wake of the blade, there is a silver shimmer left in the air. When Dara's cards strike it, they burst into flames and evaporate.

From the expression on Merlin's face, this wasn't the result he expected. He hands Grayswandir back to Corwin a little too quickly, as if passing off a poisonous snake. Corwin looks mildly amused at the his son's discomfiture.

Aisling watches as Dara and her companion disappear via some sorcery. There are any number of attacks that are too late, although it looks like at least one throw hit Dara. After the weapons clatter to the ground, there is a moment of stunned silence.

She can't get to Random, or to anywhere else useful. Crowd control is now hopeless, her immediate thought there being "F*ck this for a lark". The most she can do for Amber now is to provide a sterling example by holding her ground.

No, wait. There's going to be a stampede, with people getting crushed as they run like the lemmings they are.

Ok, given that we have a break here, Aisling will spend the time taking in the damage to see where she can be of the most use. Oh, and raging internally. And the future may occur as below.

Aisling waits for the stampede to trickle towards a beginning, and then rides the wave of it, all pretenses of femininity abandoned as she shouts out orders in a booming full-lunged voice, bodily lifts people and throws them, lightly slashes people to break them out of panicked glazes so they'll follow her commands, and generally does what she can to tend to the herd and keep it as undamaged as possible as it removes itself from the ballroom.

Gerard tosses his shield at Dara and her companion. It's too far, and he's too slow, but nobody should ever tell the strongest man in the world that.

Although it's too late to catch Dara and her friend, the shield strikes the high ceiling of the hall with a clatter in the instant of shocked silence after they vanish.

Bleys, who has been moving about in the crowd, reappears among the dragonriders at this juncture. He steps forward, naked blade in hand, and whips the blade in a circle before him, almost like a shield. Cards in the general vicinity of the blade snap to it, as if drawn there.

As Dara and her companion vanish, Bleys steps back in a way that's not quite a stagger, blade still in hand. The cards are still stuck to the blade, but after a moment, they all fall to the ground, as if simultaneously released.

Bleys looks a little grey around the gills. There is a momentary silence after the interlopers depart and the last of the things thrown at them clatters to the floor.

Benedict calmly parries a card that comes too close with his staff, which he then reverses and hurls like a spear. It passes through the space where Dara once was a moment after she vacates it.

In the moment of stunned silence that follows Dara's departure, Benedict, unshocked, nods, as if he expected this outcome.

Vere pushes several of those nearby down and more take his advice. He is hit in the shoulder by a card. It slices off a portion of his costume and a layer of flesh, but it does not cause him to drop. It looks worse than it feels.

After Dara disappears, there is an eerie moment of silence in the vast hall.

Vere ignores the minor wound, instead scanning the crowd to see who was or was not injured. He's nowhere near the king, and there are other people to see to him anyway, so he quickly absolves himself of any responsibilities there. Gerard and Solange are both uninjured, and it appears that Paige prevented Folly from being injured as well.

Vere therefore immediately begins running for the side room where he last saw Robin, the area from whence he heard a scream and a Ranger's whistle, and where he saw Julian go.

Caine is somewhere deep in the crowd, actually behind Dara and her companion. Since he's out of her arc of cards, he doesn't need to dodge before delivering a beautifully thrown knife directly into Dara's back.

He grins in wicked satisfaction as her companion pulls her through the rift in space, then begins moving towards Random as the crowd stands in stunned silence.

Jerod ducks, but he thinks that he wasn't going to be hit anyway. Jerod sees a lot of people getting hit and falling down. The pattern trick works and an unfortunate Sackbut player finds himself falling in the path of a card that might have hit Folly. He does not manage to have a musician intercept the flying cousin (Paige) who does hit Folly. Jerod also notices that Flora seems to have dropped and rolled under the bandstand.

After Dara and her companion depart and the clatter of things thrown at them ends, there is a moment of silence in the hall, as if everyone is taking a needed breath.

Jerod doesn't bother catching his breath - it will catch up when he needs it. He makes his way quickly over to Folly and Paige, offering hands to the pair to help them up as he says, "Duty calls for the medics.", noting the location of the wounded, before the colour drains slightly from his expression and he makes his way (very quickly) towards his sister.

As Dara looses her cards, Random starts to move forward towards her, as if to close and attack. His movement is short-circuited by Martin, who throws himself on top of his father.

They have not risen by the time Dara vanishes, although both of them seem to be moving and there doesn't seem to be a pool of blood underneath them.

In the moment after the attack and the departure, there is an instant of silence, like a void waiting to be filled. Conner notes several wounded people in the reflected image behind him and his aunt. "Thank you," says Llewella, quietly.

"My pleasure, my Aunt." Conner replies letting out the breath he was holding. He places his platter on the ground quietly as if not wanting to disturb the silence. "Now I must see to my own." Conner heads away from the scene on the dance floor and hurries toward where his sister and Robin were last seen.

There are several weapons coming at Dara from different directions after she fans the cards at the crowd. From one side, a familiar-looking hermit's staff; from before her, three daggers, and assorted other items; from behind her, a knife with a green pommelstone.

All three daggers from the front go wild of their intended targets (two at Dara; one at her companion). The dagger from behind plants in Dara's back with sufficient force to drive her forward momentarily, as if it staggered her.

Dara's companion grabs her and drags her through the rift, which seals behind him as if it had never been.

The staff is a moment late, and Gerard's shield a moment behind that, as the onlookers take a moment to recover, or gawk, or assess their wounds.

Brita's attacks like a wildcat and Cleph seems to be just soaking it up. She gouges an out and it seems more like sticking her finger in clay than like touching a human. She hits and hits and doesn't seem to faze him. The edges of the rift give softly when she touches them and she can't get purchase on them. Once she is through, Cleph speaks a word in a strange language and the rent begins closing like a wound, getting smaller and smaller.

Julian arrives as the rent is perhaps the size of a child and stabs through the opening, piercing Cleph's shoulder. Fiona is but a moment behind him. She seems intent on throwing herself into the breech. Julian drops his sword and grabs Fiona by her shoulders. She struggles helplessly against his strength for a moment while the gap in the fabric of reality finishes reknitting itself. She looks up into his eyes, questioning.

The room is, though not empty, silent, for the moment.

The Ranger's eyes roll wildly for a second, an unnoticed keen starting in the girl's throat, as she looks around for something anything to do. Robin's green and liquid gaze lands on the Harlequin. Brita's beloved mentor. Who Draws.

"Reid! Can you Call her?!" The Huntress cries out in desperation.

"I can try, but I'm wondering if a trump connection at this point in time might distract her from whatever physical defense she might be attempting." Reid looks to Julian for guidance on the matter.

Julian shakes his head. "Reid is quite correct. It would only endanger her."

"Sir. She was frenzied." The Ranger says to Julian. "No defenses," Robin's green eyes dart to Reid. "And who knows how much of her time has passed!" Robin's obviously not about to let it go.

As Vere and Conner come into the room, they see Julian still holding Fiona by the shoulders, as if reluctant to relinquish her. His blade lies on the floor at their feet, the top third or so of it cleanly sheared away by the closing rent.

"We will get her back," Julian is saying in a low, compelling voice to his sister. "I swear it."

Fiona masters herself with some effort, and nods.