Knight to Tower

After the letters are written, it is probably nearing or after dusk, and he spends the rest of the night packing for his journey. Ordinarily, this would not take Brennan long, but this time he will be away a long time, and there are some things he wants with him without needing to take the time to conjure them later.

First, of course, is the final sample of Huon's powder. He left one with Caine, tested the second for Random in Amber, and the third will stay close to him.

Second, because he suspects he will be entering an area that has seen armies and may still have them present, he packs his armor. It is more for show than for use, but either way it may come in handy. Since he'll be riding Four Iron, he brings his shield as well, with the Lightning-Struck Tower under the Moon as a device, differenced for the Order of the Ruby, and let them all make of that what they will.

Finally, the standard and banner he flew at the Battle of Patternfall. A lance will be waiting for him in the stables, tomorrow, with Four Iron.

Anything else he might need is either so commonplace as to make conjury trivial, or so unanticipated as to make conjury worth the effort. As such, he actively pays no attention to the rest of his packing.

That done, and letters written, he sleeps until morning, then breakfasts in his chambers before heading down to the stables. Four Iron and the aforementioned lance will be waiting for him, and Brennan will depart and make his way to Shadow. His plan is to spend much of the day putting a reasonable distance between himself and Amber, without wandering into Arcadia if he can at all help it.

Dignity wants to know if Brennan wants a companion.

That question brings Brennan up short.

"Dignity," he says, "where I'm going may be... dangerous. Not only physically, but otherwise. You've grown up with stories of what the Family can do. You've seen it with your own eyes, when a few weeks at the ends of the world turned out to be five years here."

Brennan was thinking while he said that, deciding how much to tell Dignity of his plans. "I'm not making a day trip, Dignity. I'm aiming for the opposite of what happened then and there. I may spend years or decades away, much more time than you've been alive, only to return here or to Xanadu to find much less time has passed. I may send you back before that happens, whether you want it or not. Or, once we're in it, I may not be able to send you back whether I want to or not. You may return, a much older man, to find your friends or your sweetheart still in the blush of youth. That is not something I can ask of you.

"If you offer to come with me again, I will accept. You'll bring your armor, your weapons, your heart, and your mind. You'll consider yourself deep in my confidence-- no one else knows where I'm going, either, except that I go for the good of Amber.

"If you choose otherwise, now that you know, then I never even heard the first offer, this conversation never happened, and I will think no less of you."

"Sir Brennan, I've seen the men who went to the war and I've seen the men who stayed, and I know which group I'll be counted in. I will go with you if you'll have me." He smiles. "I'd like to be older than my father. It would serve him right."

"It's your mother I expect to have an issue with this," Brennan mutters. Then, "All right. Get your kit together and meet me in the stables. I'm proud to have you, but don't say you didn't know what you were getting in to." That last, Brennan softens with a smirk.

Once the necessary distance is achieved, he will begin speeding the sun on its westerly course, and make the rest of the trip by night, shifting the stars and the sky until they appear as they did when he cast the stars in his glass orb. Brennan stops to rest Four Iron sleep at appropriate intervals, but otherwise he rides until he is prevented-- and he has no mind for petty distractions-- or until he arrives again at Weyland's Tower.

Brennan continues the martial education of Dignity.

Dignity takes it well, but doesn't have the stamina or speed of an Amberite.

The tower appears on the horizon. The facade is as blank as ever.

Before going any farther, Brennan takes the time to survey the area. If there is any high ground to speak of, Brennan goes there to have a look around in the nighttime. With his first two eyes, he looks about for any signs of Signy's army, or its remnants, or its corpses, in particular...or anything else odd-looking.

There are mountains some distance away, and a forest in the direction Dignity rather arbitrarily calls "west".

With his third eye open and extending his vision fully into the Astral plane, he looks around for anything that might be what Lilly, Marius and Signy described as "the Eater."

The Tower is protected by magic and illusion or some sort. Brennan cannot casually scry on it, nor can he detect what is beneath the illusion without shattering it (and expending energy to do so. There is no sign of the Eater.

Brennan doesn't even try to penetrate the protections of the Tower... not because he thinks it would be beyond a determined effort, but because it would be rude, and Brennan knows perfectly well what his opinion would be of someone trying to scry out his own particular haunts.

The lack of a hostile newborn Lord of Chaos with something to prove is sufficient, and welcome news. The lack of armed forces, though, is... puzzling.

"Last time I was here," he says to Dignity, "There was quite a bit of activity. Signy-- Marius' sister-- was at the head of an army, and had a camp set up about..." he scans the area and points to where it was, "...there. Looked like she had taken the field and was settling in for a siege. And that wasn't all that long ago, from my perspective," he adds, with a scowl.

Dignity looks around. "I'd guess there hadn't been armed troops here in numbers in a year or more."

"A few days, by my reckoning," Brennan says. He's disappointed, perhaps a bit put out by the failure of the place to meet his expectations, but not truly surprised, as such. "Remember what I said about finding a place where time runs otherwise?" He waits for a nod or an assent, then nods in return.

Failing either of those, Brennan and Dignity will approach the Tower at a reasonable pace, with Brennan continuing to keep a good look-out physically and Sorcerously.

It's clearly magically protected, and there is no door at the ground level.

"Well, politeness worked the last time," Brennan says. "Then again, there was a door here, the last time, too." He raises his voice to the level that Dignity has heard giving field commands, and calls out, "Weyland Smith! Sir Brennan Brandson returns, for an audience and for business!"

Brennan glances over at Dignity, inquiringly, if need be-- does the name Weyland register?

Nope, not at all.

"And now, we wait, I suppose."

Brennan is prepared to wait for a full day, or until something interesting happens, whichever comes first. If it seems warranted, he will let Dignity strike a small camp on a previously undisturbed patch of ground a respectful distance from the tower... say, fifty yards off or so. (Or in accordance with any obvious markers that may exist.)

Dignity makes a camp, and prepares food. A day passes with no sign of activity from the tower.

Brennan will not suffer Dignity and himself to sleep without at least one of them being awake, and he lets Dignity take the first one. Dawn breaks over the horizon to find Brennan sitting on a convenient rock, pondering intently in the direction of Weyland's Tower. Brennan lets Dignity sleep until the sun is half a hand over the horizon then, if he's not awake, wakes him, and they'll break their fast. If dawn happens to be over the forest, Brennan will-- very charitably-- say nothing of it in front of Dignity.

Dignity wakes as the early morning pre-dawn changes from dark to dim.

"Not the reaction I was expecting," Brennan says. "Legends paint him as a bit of a recluse, but always as a businessman. That just means his clients need to come to him." Brennan makes a small gesture, as if to say, and here we are, then lets his hands clap to his knees and stands up.

"All right. Waiting a second day isn't likely to produce any better results than the first one, but I'm still not quite eager to break and enter." Pause. "Not quite yet. Let's see what else is here." Brennan leads Dignity over to where Signy's camp had been, and from there sends Dignity to scout the area. He sets him a rough course around the area which, on horseback, should occupy him until around noon, with instructions to call or sound a horn once if there's something Brennan has to see, twice for trouble. The course does not include the forest. It includes, in fact, an instruction to stay out of the forest.

When he leaves, Brennan sets about to see what he can see of the remains of Signy's camp. First, mundanely, walking around, looking, touching, smelling, and getting a rough feel for how long it had been based on what he recalled seeing when he had been there. Then, since he has a few watches until Dignity is expected to return, Sorcerously, by looking back into time. He would like to know at least when they left, under what conditions they left (was there another battle? Did they leave peacefully after Signy never came back?) how many, roughly, there were, and in what direction they went.

If Brennan happens to zoom in directly on an important event or conversation, well, that's a bonus.

Brennan does not let himself get so wrapped up in conversation that he won't hear someone-- Dignity-- approaching.

Brennan's skill and luck are adequate to his task, if not spectacular. His temporal scrying shows the forces packing and leaving. He'd call the force a small company of soldiers. It seems to be of the same size and composition as Brennan remembers it, so no large fights or reinforcements. Brennan sees them packing their gear and leaving. It does not seem to be a hurried action. In all the time Brennan looks, he sees no activity from the Tower.

Brennan will take adequate over abject failure any day. The time for spectacular workings will come later, and he's more or less seen what he wants to see. There is no need to push things further. He does walk back over to the Tower and confirm in a mundane method what he picked up on from the scrying-- he walks back over and looks for signs of footprints that would imply visitors over the last year, or since the army departed. More specifically, he looks for their lack, because he expects not to find any. He does do a thorough job, pacing all the way along the base of the Tower. He won't be disappointed, by any stretch, if this yields something interesting, but his expectations are low.

Brennan doesn't find what he expects to not find.

Then, with a little more time before Dignity should be making his way back, Brennan acts on something somewhere between a hunch and a whim. He goes back to the remains of the fire they had made for the night, rekindles it, and banks it up a little bit... then takes the third and final little vial of Huon's powder, and casts a very small amount into the fire, observing. Brennan does not do extensive experimentation on it, just a quick test. Either it works, or not.

There's an acrid smell and a cloud of obscuring smoke, but nothing that indicates that a firearm could be powered by it.

With that, he waits for Dignity's return and report.

Dignity returns. "It's been at least one springtime since there were troops here, Sir. I found a number of plants growing in the old campsite. If you hadn't told me it was a campsite, I wouldn't have thought it notable or recent."

Brennan nods agreement. "I spent some time looking through the site while you were off scouting. It's been at least a year since anyone was here, and there are no signs of any great battle driving them off. About as many left as I remember seeing here before. Probably decided Signy wasn't coming back about the time their supplies started to run low." He gives Dignity a wry smile. "Funny how that works out, isn't it?"

"They would have waited as long as they could and no longer, yes."

Then, "All right, what about farther out? Any signs of life larger than a rabbit? Signs of life on two feet? Anything interesting at all?" Brennan listens attentively, and knowing that the Black Road had run not far nearby he listens in particular for anything that sounds like a remnant of it. The Black Road weakened the Tower Wards once before, it's worth seeing if there's a trace of it still here to exploit.

[Dignity had most of the morning to travel the course Brennan put to him. It was designed to both get them some information about the land, and to keep him out from underfoot during Brennan's scrying.]

"There are deer in the fringes of the forest, the mountains are bare, but may hold goats. I saw what might be mine entrances in the lower mountain range, and there is a road a few miles to the south. I didn't see any roads into the forest, although there was a path that led up towards it. I'm pretty sure there are predators in the forest, both because something would eat those deer I saw and because I was sure I was being watched."

"I didn't see any signs of travelers on the roads. I don't really trust my weather-eye here, Sir, but I think it feels like it will rain soon."

He didn't see anything like the Black Road.

"Not altogether the response I was hoping for from the man who forged Greyswandir and Werewindle," Brennan says, indicating the entirety of the situation around them. "Still, breaking and entering would be a poor re-introduction, I think. We'll leave that as a last recourse."

Brennan casts about for another recourse, and after a moment, decides, "All right then, the mines. If smiths need to be on good terms with anyone other than their clients, its on the local miners." He frowns for a moment, recalling everything he can about what happened here the last time. "Signy and her staff mentioned 'dvarts' as enemies several times, as well, which would fit. Mines it is. Let's live dangerously, and head for the one closest to the forest, and be there by nightfall."

Dignity prepares the horses and gets the gear, and the two of knights set out. "Just like when you and Prince Bleys set off to scout our route back, except I'm more confident the ground won't choose to be malevolent here."

Brennan gives Dignity a sidelong glance with a very arched eyebrow. "Don't be. By report of Dame Lilly and Sir Marius, a patch of ground started out hostile and became moreso while they fought it. It had originally been set to protect Weyland's Tower, before it grew strong enough to break its bonds and leave. If it shows up, limit yourself to harassing it. And be ready to make a strategic withdrawl. I didn't see it, but if Lilly and Marius describe it as dangerous, it is dangerous."

The ride across the plains parallels the mountains for a while, and eventually Brennan sees a reasonably ornate gate set in the side of a mountain that faces the forest.

"That doesn't look like it's purely decorative, Sir. They could defend it against any putative forest dwellers."

Brennan nods agreement. "Let's hope it's historical. Otherwise, it's not the war I expected to interfere with."

The gate is open and manned (perhaps 'dvarted' would be a better term, but it's hard to tell what the defenders are without magical enhancement or a spyglass), and is far enough away that they haven't seen Brennan and Dignity.

Brennan would prefer not to get shot at without some form of protection, and he's not eager to go in showing off his sorcerous prowess, either, so he and Dignity stop at a place that's out of sight of the gate (they'll backtrack a bit if they have to, this being a plain and all) and put their armor on. He does not have DIgnity break out the banner, the pennants or any other showy signs, and in fact doesn't even ride with his own shield out.

So suited up, they will continue their approach. If they get to within a reasonable range and the gate defenders haven't called out to Brennan and Dignity, Brennan will call out to them: "Hello, the Mountain Gate!"

From above, a voice floats down. "Hullo, the humans! Give us your names, if you be heroes or wizards, and say why do you come to the gate of the mountain." It seems a rote recitation.

Hero? Wizard? Brennan shrugs, almost imperceptibly, and gives Dignity his best now-we-start-tapdancing expression. "My name is Sir Brennan, Knight Commander of the Order of the Ruby, and this is my squire, Dignity!" he calls forth. His voice is not quite the bellowing battlefield one, but it is still pitched to carry and brimming with the polite confidence and authority of his position. "We have come a very long way, seeking news of the Master Smith, Weyland."

They will, hopefully, infer whatever is favorable to infer about his hero or wizard status from all that.

"You'll not find him here, not since he sent so many of our warriors to their deaths at the hands of his daughter. Nor elsewhere, I think. Still, if you come in peace, you're welcome to the halls."

The gate starts to open, slowly.

"We come in peace!" Brennan calls back, then waits respectfully for the gates to open properly before slipping inside. As he does, he still wears his weapons, but keeps his hands casually away from them and nods for Dignity to do the same. Brennan won't let Dignity and himself go too far-- he expects some sort of minders, even if they call themselves an escort or an honor guard, and anyway, he's curious to get a good look at who and what he's dealing with.

The men of this place are build like stone blocks: squat and craggy. Unlike stone blocks, many of them are armed with weapons that are nearly as tall as they are. They provide grooms who offer to take your horses to the stables. From a look at both them and the stables it's clear that they are for guests. You are not completely alone in the stone fortress. What passes for windows are more accurately arrow-slits here.

Smoke rises within and congregates at the roof, then blows out the door.

One of the men walks up to Brennan. "Welcome to Redvein, heroes. I am Lorcan, the Castellan. You say you seek the tower lord Vielandros? What is your business with him?"

Brennan allows them to take his and Dignity's horses. He has absolutely no doubt he'll be able to get them back, one way or the other. Dignity is free to go with the horses and make sure they're treated properly, or to remain with Brennan and the dvarts. Brennan also does not bother to conceal his interest in the architecture, both as architecture and as hard defense point.

"Thank you, Castellan. We are honored. My business with Vielandros, or Weyland the Smith, as my people call him, is simple: I wish to discuss a blade with him. He seems to have fallen into poor reputation, here, though. Sacrifices to a hungry daughter?" he asks.

Brennan indicates by posture that he will accompany Lorcan wherever he is led, within reason, but is clearly interested in this evil daughter.

"Wayland, as you call him, had long been a friend of these halls, as is natural between miners and smiths. He and his child quarrelled, over whatever it is that wizards fight over. She took the traditional route and recruited a band of heroes. He made arrangements with us to defend him. Now both of them are gone and most of our youth are dead. We made a bad deal." He shrugs, and turns to the interior of the stone holding. "He is not loved here, not by the widows and orphans his feud created.

"Come this way, we can talk in comfort in my office." He gestures towards the large interior doors. They are perhaps 12 feet tall, twice Dignity's height and almost three times the dvarts'.

Brennan's voice echoes off the stone halls, for the benefit of all the rest of the dvarts in easy earshot, as he follows Lorcan back to his office: "Neither of them recruited us." Brennan doesn't sound too disappointed about that.

Once they reach Lorcan's office, Brennan is still interested in Lorcan's story-telling. "You can't leave the story at that, Master Castellan-- gone? To where? And who won the war?"

"Drink, Heroes?" The small old man goes to pour himself [and, if desired, Brennan and Dignity] a strong beverage. Once he has settled in a chair by a fire, he says "That's a fine set of questions, Sir Brennan. As we were paid to protect the tower and the tower stands, we won. Yet our patron has left and our sons are dead, so it was not a victory we savor." He takes a sip of his beverage, which is, at least, warming.

If there are human-sized seats in Lorcan's office, Brennan will take one and indicated that Dignity should take another. If not, he'll stand in front of the fire, and either way he'll take Lorcan's offer of a beverage. Having been reared on spices and other bitter flavors that no one but Uxmali and his grandmother had ever claimed to like, he should be able to nurse even Dvartish fare with a straight face.

"If the tower is truly abandoned, it will soon become a menace to the region. Something strong and dangerous will take it, if that has not happened already. We shall need to recruit a hero to investigate it."

As Lorcan finishes his speech, Brennan takes another sip of whatever Lorcan has handed him, and looks into the fire for a few moments. When he looks back to Lorcan, his eyes are less travelling story-listener, but more determined and harder-edged.

"I see," Brennan says. "Recruit and investigate.

"I would like to know what I'm getting in to before I decide to do it. How long ago did Weyland disappear? If anyone at Redvein has been inside the Tower, I'd like to speak to him. If many, then the most recent ones."

"Many have. I have. No one has in the last year. Weyland's home is not in the tower, but that is the entrance to his home. Some say his chambers were high atop the tower, some say that, too was an illusion. I always felt as if I were deep underground when visiting him. Perhaps an Aelf would have felt as if he were in some forest dankness.

"I am glad our tunnels do not run beneath that rock. It does not taste wholesome."

Brennan nods at Lorcan's words. "Tell me, then, what you know of the defenses of the Tower, and of its servants. Separate what you have seen with your own eyes, and what you have heard of second hand either from Weyland or your own Dvarts." Brennan is very focussed on Lorcan's answer.

"One day when I was a younger Dvart, a rock spire thrust itself from the soil less than a day's march from here. It was, as we knew, a Sorcerer's tower. They do that. It was far from the others, and only friendly towards us and the the Aelfs because we supply metal and wood to him.

"I was in the first negotiating party that came to the tower-- we were invited. It was trade he wanted. That suited us. War and battle are for idiots and humans-- no offence, heroes, but your ways are not ours."

Brennan lets this pass with a-- very-- thin smile.

"It was as if we had entered a vast cavern, and the Smith, as he called himself, had no furniture or even possessions, save for a forge, an anvil, and a crate of tools. We were entranced. We agreed to supply him with materials.

"No two times that I have been inside the tower have been the same. There was a human town here when his wife lived with him, but the humans left a few years after she did."

"And, other than wife and child, no servants, demons, or other guardians?" Brennan pauses, here, to look Lorcan in the eyes and wait for a reponse, one way or the other.

"I'm sure he had many: nurses, cooks, maids. I suspect the town was there to support her desires rather than his." He blinks. "That was many years ago, longer than most humans live. You might find a child or a grandchild of the servants, if you searched the coastal towns."

Brennan still holds Lorcan's eyes, then nods, accepting his statement for the moment. It can be made to fit with what he knows, But Lorcan doesn't need to know that. Yet.

Then: "Tell me about this wife and about this human settlement, and the role they played in the war."

Lorcan starts slowly and his speech speeds up as he remembers more. "She looked human, but many said he'd married a demon, and his children were half demon for it. Not that that's a bad thing in a family of tower wizard. She was considered a beauty by human standards, and cruel, and arrogant. She could fight for herself. All of these are important in a human ruler. She was the perfect lady for a tower, which made her unlike him. All he wanted to do was create.

"She was here less than a decade, and then she was gone. The town outlasted her, but without her there was no trade and little adventure, so the people started to leave in small numbers. When the blackness came, the few remaining fled, first to the tower and then away for good. It hasn't been rebuilt since."

For much of Lorcan's speech, Brennan looks like he's reaching a decision point of one sort or another. As Lorcan mentions this 'blackness,' however, his eyes snap back into close focus on the Dvart.

"Blackness?" he asks. "What is this blackness that you speak of?" And almost as an afterthought, "Children? More than one?"

He nods. "She was great with child not too many years after their son was born. Some say she left him when the child died, and others say he had a hand in it.

"As to the other, The blackness came as a vein of ore, running under mountain and exposed under the sky. It corrupted what it touched, and was one of the few things to ever make tower lords cooperate with each other. Where are you from, heroes? I had heard that no place was untouched."

"In Uxmal, it showed itself as a road, a Black Road. I was not there when it manifested, though. I was... otherwise occupied," Brennan says through a scowl into the fire that does not invite further questions. "Understand, Lorcan, a wise hero may ask questions he knows the answers to, in order to gain a fresh perspective." Brennan glances over at Dignity-- there are other reasons, as well.

"Did this wife and these children have names? And was Weyland among these Tower Lords goaded into co-operation?"

"It would be unusual for them not to, don't you think? But it was centuries ago and I doubt she was here for a thousand days. The girl stayed with her father. Signy, that one was. Her name has power. 'New Victory'. I always wondered if it was his victory or hers that inspired that choice."

Brennan smiles faintly, but not without some degree of humor. "You understand why I ask, of course. I will admit that some is simple curiosity, since the legends of Weyland among my people make no mention of wives or children. But the other is very practical, since it is Weyland's Tower you are asking me to investigate. After centuries, a child might return to claim that Tower, or perhaps even a wife, and I would be armed with whatever knowledge I can before I go there.

"So, Master Castellan, please tell me what you can of these other children, even if it lore or supposition. Perhaps a place to start, if it helps: Why would Weyland even be thought to have a hand in the death of his own child, at such an age?" Brennan can think of at least two reasons, but doesn't bother to say them out loud.

"If the boy lived, the ways of tower lords are different from those of heroes or dvarts. They do not pass on inheritances. Still, I want you to succeed, so I will tell you all I can recall. Be aware that it is not likely good information." He sits back and puts his rough hands behind his neck.

"All that I have heard is rumors and stories and it was all so long ago that few care to remember. The rumor that it was not his child. Some say the boy was a monster, some say she bore the child of her brother and attempted to pass it off as the Smith's. That tale is infinitely baroque, and involves a gift of great smithcraft that is secretly a curse on the brother. None of it is more than hearsay and fabrication.

"One tale says there were twins, but the dark haired one killed the fair haired one, and the father killed the murderer out of justice. I do not believe a tower lord knows of justice, so I doubt that tale.

"Some say the child was locked in the basement alongside his mother's corpse. That one is false; the rocks would have told us that."

Brennan lets Lorcan speak his piece, listening as he stares into the fire. When the Castellan has finished, Brennan stares into the fire for long, long moments more, before finally saying, without looking up, "Perhaps the ways of heroes and Tower Lords are not so different. Children. Always the children." Then, looking back at Lorcan: "And no custom, habit, formality or legality would stop me pressing a claim of inheritance I felt valid."

"A child raised here would feel no valid claim on a father's tower. Tower Lords make their own towers, and they fall with the Lord."

Brennan lets this pass without comment or apparent interest; he has what he needs from Lorcan on that topic, and if Lorcan is unwise enough to take the word, so be it.

He moves his hand in a gesture of finality, letting that part of the conversation drop. "All right, I've asked of his servants and of his family. I ask now of what you called the Blackness, and we know as the Black Road. You say it was threat enough to have the Tower Lords band together to fight it. Was Weyland among these Lords?"

"Not ... fully. Weyland graciously did not take advantage of any of his opponents who did fight. He also took much credit for the actions of his daughter, which would infuriate her were she to know of it. He made weapons for Heroes during the time."

Lorcan finishes his drink and looks up at Brennan.

"But he was not a fighter."

"No," Brennan says. "In another land, he would be called an arms dealer, and in another still, a merchant of death." Despite the words, Brennan's tone delivers no moral judgement, just a casual, conversational statement of fact. "Such merchants thrive when they are too powerful to kill and too skilled to boycott, selling to both sides if they can. It is the way of such things. Did the Black Road or its forces ever approach his Tower?"

Lorcan frowns thoughtfully. "No place was completely free of them, but this part of the world was less menaced than most. I do not think he was selling arms to them, if that is your concern."

"Really," says Brennan, with genuine rather than cynical surprise. "Interesting." Dignity will recognize Brennan's expression to mean that he'll be toying with that piece of information for quite some time, re-arranging things in his mind until he can make that new information fit.

"All right. Former servants, family, and remnants of the Black Road I judge to be the most likely new occupants, and we've spoken of all three. Thank you, Master Castellan.

"All right, then." He claps his hands to his knees, then pushes to stand erect. "We will investigate Weyland's Tower for you, but the hour is too late to set out tonight. If you've not eaten your even evening meal, we would be honored to join you, and honored to rest here until the morning. Dignity," Brennan says, fixing his attention to his squire, "Spend what time remains after our meal in rest and contemplation. I will answer your questions on the way to the Tower." Brennan's arrangement of events, if they go even close to his plan, does not prevent Dignity from spending more time among the Dvarts and asking questions of them on his own.

"Master Castellan," he says, "I would find it fitting if we Heroes, who investigate a Lord's Tower at the behest of the Dvarts, carried tokens of the Dvarts for luck and fair fortune. I can think of no better symbol than pick-hammers, or similar weapons. Perhaps in the long history of Redvein, some were made with hafts appropriate to the arms of men."

Brennan is given what he requires.

[Brennan will spend the evening meal conjuring in the background to make this so, if need be. Also, because he has a good idea what he's looking for, and would really like to have them before he sleeps. Brennan's got nothing further until he and Dignity are shown to their chambers for the night. The GMs, on the other hand, very well might....]

[GMs have nothing. The night passes uneventfully.]

[May we stipulate that this dream wakes Brennan in the middle of the night?]

Brennan dreams of a woman enthroned, lifting a sword which burns bright white to his third eye, and dropping it on the shoulders of a man who looks like a young Benedict might look.

Almost every dream that Brennan remembers past waking is a bad one. This one might be an exception, but he still wakes in the same way-- eyes snapping open, body tense but still, listening, forcing the muscles to relax. He lets the air out of his lungs slowly.

It's pitch black, but Brennan does not light a lamp.

Instead, he sits up in the bed and reachs a hand down next to it to grab the stone tablet and parchment and pencil or writing stick that someone had left there. Brennan hasn't got the smallest, slightest shred of Trump talent within him-- and doesn't want it-- but there was no escaping childhood under Brand without knowing how to sketch, and even to paint. And so, before the details of the dream leave him, Brennan sketches out the scene freehand, in the dark, without his eyes to deceive him.

At a few key moments, he reaches blindly for other pencils, tinted appropriately, especially the hair and eyes of the woman, possibly for the man, and for any other key details that his hands demand.

Only when he feels he is finished does he light a lamp in the room, to survey his work. Does he recognize the woman or the sword? Are there any details his hands remembered that his conscious thoughts did not?

[Long shot reminder: Brennan has seen Solange's sketch of the Floaty Woman.]

It looks so much like Floaty Woman that Brennan might think he's projected his desire to make a connection onto the dream. Brennan does note that his impulse was to use muted colors and silvers and grays. Except for the sword. There's no easy was to draw "shining too brightly to look at directly."

[For the record, despite the reminder about Floaty Woman, my expectation was that this was going to be Moins. I was, obviously, dead wrong.]

Brennan looks at this, and thinks back over the dream he had, and is baffled. The temptation is strong-- very strong-- to do some Sorcerous investigations of this dream, but the matter doesn't seem quite urgent enough to justify the time he'd need to put in on it. Not quite. He does make a mental note to have a conversation with Fiona about the metaphysics of dreams and astral projections at a later time, though. When he looks back, the tablet and the pencils he used are gone, but the sketch remains-- it might come in useful, later.

Sighing, even though it is the middle of the night, he rouses himself and pulls on some clothing and boots. There won't be any more meaningful sleep, anyway. Pursing his lips, he finds his thin trump case and pulls them out, shuffling and reshuffling.

"What do I face in Weyland's Tower?"

[I believe the actual Trumps in Brennan's deck include Benedict, Caine, Bleys, Fiona, Uxmal, Amber, and a sketch of Paige that may be past its use-by date.]

Brennan deals out the following cards:

Bottom row:

Sowing Stones

The Smith, reversed

Bleys

Middle row:

The Usurper

Amber, reversed

Top row:

Striking the Dragon's Tail

"In the Fate position...?" Brennan mutters under his breath, in a tone of voice often-- but not this time-- accompanied by a rude gesture. "Lovely," he says, before hunching over the spread and forcing himself to address it properly.

He ponders the spread, for a time. "How... thematic. Past: Unceasing, fruitless activity. Certainly applies to the Dvarts, to hear Lorcan tell it. Possibly to Weyland, as well. He raised Signy, got nothing from it. Not even the joy of fatherhood." Brennan smiles cynically at that. "Present: traditional read on that is misspent effort. If we take it as a face card, could mean a child... but Marius and Signy should be back in Amber, and this mysterious third... no. Or the obvious, that Weyland's not home. Future: Bleys."

Brennan stops, and blows the hair out of his face, scowling. "Bleys." He makes sure not to focus on the image hard enough to make a connection. "Stones and Smith are both Earth cards, and both, in their way, both Blade cards. And Bleys bears the Blade of the sign under the mountain." Something is there, but whatever it is, Brennan can't quite reach it to grab it and hold it.

"Virtue and Fault," he says. "Another thematic pair. In opposition to Amber, that almost certainly means Chaos, doesn't it? How does Chaos end up on my side, here? I expect to find a very unfriendly Eater. What else?" Brennan cycles rapidly through the known lines of descent from Benedict and Lintra. "Madoc? Known to have an interest with Weyland and Signy. Saeth? A link to the Eater. I wonder what she remembers, and what she told Madoc.

"And Amber, reversed," Brennan scowls, then grumbles to himself. "I don't like that in Fault. The undoing of Oberon's bargains, setting the Hob free? Or is that row telling me nothing more than that Sorcery is of more use here than Pattern?" Then, looking from Fault to Future, "Interesting that Bleys is the only other Amber-centric card in the spread."

Then, finally, "And Fate, the Dragon's Tail. Which in this position I could almost take as a hopeful sign. I know what problem I want to solve in coming here. The whole point of coming here was to get a handle on the size of the problem. And if this probelm," he touches the card, "is that problem, then at least I have a shot, and am on the right track."

Then he eyes the Bleys and the Amber cards. "But you know, I anticipate killing a Chaos... thing." Brennan won't justify it with the title of Lord of Chaos, until he sees it with an affine of its own. "And Bleys does know how to do with, with Werewindle. Amber reversed, my lack of such a blade? But Bleys is still a good source of advice on that topic.... Not to mention, also a Sorcerer, also of Lintral descent." Pause. "As am I, come to think of it.

"All right, then," Brennan says, scrubbing his face with his hands, pushing the hair back out of his eyes. "Enough talking to myself, hunched over the cards." He lets his focus fall on Bleys' image, without removing the spread of cards, and if Brennan gets the traditional response, he answers, "Your favorite nephew, seeking advice."

There is no response. Brennan is not sufficiently versed in the use of the Trumps to determine anything about how or why the contact does not form.

"And by 'future,'" Brennan mutters to the cards, "you apparently meant, 'More than three minutes after this Trump reading.' Yes, thank you for your insights." Then he gathers them up, puts them away, and leaves Bleys' in the top position. A moment later, he stops and swaps that for Benedict-- Bleys is near the top of the list for advice, but tied with Flora for the bottom for escapes and rescues.

But when all that is said and done, it is still the middle of the night, and Brennan is still not going to get back to sleep in the wake of dreams, sketches, Trump casting and failed Trump calls. And there is useful work he can do.

He eyes the weapons that Lorcan delivered. One is something that looks like a pick-hammer scaled up from Dvartish to Human size, then scaled again from tool to weapon. It's got a nasty spike on one side, and a solid hammerhead on the other. That one, Brennan decides, is going to be Dignity's, because he want the other-- less a pick-hammer and more of an axe-hammer-- for himself. That one's spike is broadened and flattened into something more than a hatchet blade but less than a half-moon axe blade. Both are finely crafted weapons and, in the right hands and the right circumstances, should be quite effective.

But these are not heading for ordinary circumstances. Brennan still expects to be crossing paths with the Eater, and while he sacrificed his fear away centuries ago, that doesn't make him a fool. And he would be a fool to engage something that held off Marius, Lilly, and Signy without careful thought and planning... and Dignity, while far from useless, is not of the blood of Oberon.

Still, he can use his time and experience now to shape the field.

Brennan thinks back to the wake of Daeon's death, at the hands of the Dragon of Arcadia's... minion. Was it a true affine that the Beast sent into Amber? Fiona didn't think so at the time, and neither does Brennan, but he remembers vividly the astral tendrils of power all over the battlefield, and his and Fiona's speculations that an astrally extended weapon might be effective against it. That, or a Patternblade. And while Brennan doesn't have the expertise to make a Patternblade, he can astrally extend a weapon.

Now, Brennan is certain that affination is not exactly assimilation is not exactly whatever the Beast did to possess people. But he's still betting that they are related functions-- there is more to these creatures than crude physical matter, and so at the very least Brennan expects that being hit with an astrally extended weapon will do damage to the creature at that higher level, as well. Which is EXACTLY what Brennan hopes to achieve. And so, what Brennan does over the course of an hour or more, is carefully, carefully work both weapons so that their surfaces exist in both the crude material sense and-- for a while-- in the higher astral sense.

Then, almost as an afterthought, Brennan adds a second, much smaller working to Dignity's pick-hammer: Momentum is a function of both mass and velocity, and velocity is a function of distance and time. It is not much work for Brennan to decouple the pick-hammer's momentum from its actual speed, with the result that when Dignity swings it, it will hit far, far harder than its simple mass and velocity would indicate. He considers doing the same for his own, but decides against it. He'd rather concentrate the effort on Dignity's weapon, because Dignity needs it more.

Those are the brute force options. Brennan's final working is the subtlest one. Everything Brennan has heard about the Eater, and its prior component, CloudEater, indicates a voracious appetite. That might be something that passes for "normal" among things of Chaos, if "normal" is a notion that applies. It might not. Either way, Brennan is willing to gamble that the new creature will be similarly hungry... and a predictable tendency can be exploited.

Brennan finds a small ruby, and works it carefully with Entropy. He begins by pumping all of the natural energy out of the center of the gemstone, and continues the process until he has something that should be physically impossible, at least in this environment: a gemstone which contains, in a very real and physical sense, negative energy. This environment should reject such a thing-- probably violently, by pumping energy back in to it-- but Brennan's working prevents that. The next part of his work is to create a barrier that will keep this construct stable for a time. And the finishing touch is, in some ways, similar to what he did to Lorcan's hammers, although the intent is cosmetic: he wraps the construct in a shell that extends into the Astral plane, both to obscure the contents and to make it appear that it is an object of power, rather than just the opposite.

The result is an thin onion layer of shiny astral gemstone, occluding a thin layer of entropic barrier, surrounding a solid core of negative energy.

Brennan has no hope that such a thing would be powerful enough to destroy, or even incapacitate something like the Eater, but he does hope that if a thing of Chaos tries to naively assimilate it, that it will result in some of the creature's native power being sucked into the stone as soon as the astral shell is consumed, at least temporarily. Or, failing that, that it will be distracting and painful.

When those things are done, it should be some time near dawn in either direction, but Brennan's efforts have been strenuous and he wants to be in peak form. He pokes his head out of his chambers, finds a Dvart in the area and sends word to both Lorcan and Dignity that he will join them closer to mid-morning. He does not elaborate. He uses the extra time to sleep and recover from his efforts before going to join Dignity and Lorcan.