A few hours later the three cousins gather in a small room. Ossian has found a shiny steel breastplate, and a heavier sword than he usually carries. He also has a bow and a quiver full of arrows. This is the first time Jerod sees Ossian wearing any kind of armor.
Ossian gives Raven two trumps, one of uncle Corwin and one of a sunny beach. "I will sadly need them back afterwards. " he says, and opens his sketch book. The sketch shows an oddly shaped rock at the foot of a hill. "Anything before we leave?" he says.
Raven accepts the cards gingerly and tucks them away in an inside pocket of her coat. The good captain looks ready to board a ship, complete with a sword that looks like someone might have used the hilt as a club against something hard at some point. "You'll get them back," she answers. "I think I got everything."
"Ok. Get close, and I'll push you through." Ossian says concentrating on the sketch. When the contact opens he lets Jerod through first, and then Raven, before coming himself.
The three cousins are in a valley between high grass-covered hills. No humans are in sight.
"I'll move us a bit closer" Ossian says, striding off northwards. Jerod can sense Ossian's careful shifting of shadow as they walk. As they enter a small forest on the side of one of the hills Ossian turns to Jerod: "We are now rather close to the shadow of the Klybesians. I think it is your turn now."
Raven follows along, looking around with clear curiosity.
Jerod keeps moving silently for a distance before coming upon a trio of horses tied up near a set of low-lying shrubs. From a saddlebag on one of the larger ones he collects a bottle and a thick crystal glass. He then rummages around further, pulling out a leather satchel and looking at it for a moment. "Get comfortable. It'll take a few minutes." he says. He busies himself making a small fire before settling down before it and pouring himself a drink. It is downed in one smooth motion as the bottle is moved to one side, within easy reach of anyone inclined to get some.
Closing his eyes, he breathes for a moment before summoning the Pattern to his mind, letting it fill his awareness, before opening his eyes. Everywhere he looks, he focuses, letting the Pattern touch it, seeing the Shadow before him, feeling its nature, the vibration of life dictated by rules and laws bound by probability. He watches it, seeing it all through the veils of the Pattern, cementing it in his consciousness, letting the ebb and flow of this place move within him, while slowly, carefully, imposing his will upon the substrate of Shadow.
After what seems like an eternity to him, he opens the satchel and looks inside. He pulls a ring from the satchel, silver with a large ruby and he stares at it. One of his father's rings, he let the feelings seep out from within himself, entering into the Pattern connection with the Shadow. For a moment it is hard to maintain the connection and his gaze narrows considerably, using the feelings that come to fore for strength, for focus.
As he places the ring on the ground in front of the fire, he lets the emotion enter into the connection proper, the loss of home and rule, of order and good conduct, a loss replaced by abandon and the fear that faltering laws and order bring. This he pushes into the Shadow around him, letting it ripple outwards as his hand reaches into the satchel.
A cloth comes forth next, an intricate pattern that Ossian would recognize is from Rebma. Jerod looks at it carefully, letting the emotion of security fill him for just a moment before reliving the attack by the Triton, remembering the pain of his ribs, the bitter acrid taste of blood. The loss of faith in security and home pushes out now into the link, to be followed by the fear of the outsider, the malevolence that comes from that which is outside, which cannot be stopped or controlled or bargained with. He pushes this into the Shadow as he lets the cloth fall into the fire, the smoke of its passing wafting into the air, spreading itself upon the wind.
Another draw from the satchel, this time a graven image, brilliant blue and green colours reflecting the sunshine, an image of a fountain set in an idyllic glade, a woman facing away from the viewer, looking outwards to the mountains in the distance. Jerod looks at it for a long moment, remembering when he handed this to Cambina in Paris, a life time ago. He places it carefully onto the ground beside the ring, letting the loss of hope fill his mind, followed immediately by the rage, ice cold and unyielding, a living thing that cares not for mercy or pity or reason. A cold, relentless force...a power of itself that gives focus and clarity upon the execution of its terrible purpose.
Another draw, the final one, and Jerod is looking upon the letter. The letter for Reid, written after Jerod's meeting with Random, in another life, when Jerod had promised he would make the King's wishes known to Reid should he find him, to let Reid "make things right". He looks at the letter, the wax seal of his ring, the careful script of the address...and he places the letter into the fire, letting the ash waft into the air, as vengeance fills the link, vengeance against all those who had wronged him...and those who kept him from helping Family.
The crack of his knuckles, squeezing of his fist, bring him back to the forest and the fire and he lets the link fade, lowering the Pattern and taking a long breath. Another drink follows the breath and he says, mostly to himself. "Better get something to eat.", and another drink.
He picks up the ring and the small plaque, placing them back in the satchel and looks at Ossian. "It's done. The rules have been adjusted...the Shadow will manifest our foreboding for us." he says, climbing slowly to his feet.
A bolt of lighting strikes a distant tree, from the mostly clear sky. It is, Ossian knows, directly between his kinsmen and the Klybesians. Seconds later, thunder rumbles across the evening plains. The night is cool and seems inclined to become colder.
Ossian nods. "That's really impressive, Jerod. Do we want horses."
Jerod motions to the trio of horses, one of which he pulled the satchel from. "Not unless we're getting company." He returns to the larger one, putting the satchel back into the saddle bag and pulling out a wrapped package that upon opening contains travel rations of smoked meats and cheese, which Jerod proceeds to consume with considerable efficiency.
"I'm thinking that should be enough for now...it'll get some people's attention without terrifying everyone into a defensive posture. Unless you've got a suggestion in which case I'd be happy to consider it. I had considered letting a vampire loose but it would take too long to set up the shadow linkage for one to find their way here."
Raven gives the horses a resigned look - the look of a man who grew up in the docks and has spent infinitely more time on a ship than in a saddle. "If we were planning to be here for a bit, I'd say rats," she observes. "Ain't nothing less restful than dealing with rats for days, and all of a sudden they up and disappear."
"The case for horses is that the Klybesians have less time to prepare for our arrival, as we travel faster. The case against - they will probably be intrigued by the quest of how we managed to walk here." Ossian says "Oh, I could do mean things with rats, but let's keep that in reserve."
"I'd rather they be less prepared. But we'll keep the rats in mind though." Jerod replies, concentrating for a few moments, allowing for future probabilities to appear, delicate hooks to await the hanging of just the right amount of fate upon them to trigger the arrival of some very unwelcome guests.
"Let's be off. Time to get what we came here for."
The landscape is bleak and the clouds glower overhead, threatening to storm without doing so. The wild heath looks to be a no-man's land. It is only as the riders approach the monastery on the cliffside that they even begin to see signs of human life. There are cleared trees, and a valiant attempt to wrest crops and livelihood from the sullen soil seems to be an exercise in futility. The weather varies between too warm by day down to far too cold in the evening. The light seems to wash out every bit of color and life, leaving a greyness that looks as if it has long known that it underlies everything, but which has waited for everything bright and alive to die.
The Klybesians' compound fits this place. No one would come here, willingly. It is an information fortress.
The gates are ahead. They surely have seen the three riders approaching up the mountain.
"We need to get someone ranking high enough out here." Ossian says to the others. "I do not think entering that fortress is wise."
Jerod looks over the compound, studying it and the land around it, sifting it for the feel of reality as well as the taint of sorcery.
"What are your colours?" he asks, the question directed to both Ossian and Raven. They can see he begins to rummage through one of his saddle bags.
Raven blinks. "Eh? Ain't sure I got any."
"Welcome to being a Lord of Amber." Jerod says to Raven, riffling through one saddle bag, pulling out two banners and a collapsed pole made from segmented wooden sections of hardened wood. "You'll come up with some eventually. They're good for impressing the hired help and intimidating the outliers." and he pauses to verify the two he has in hand, nodding.
Ossian smiles. "I have suggestions."
"Huh." Raven looks like she's considering all of that.
[Ossian]
"For me: Electric blue, the shade of Amber 's sky on a clear day at
the end of winter just after sunrise as seen through the window in
Lucas' study. And white as the petals of the Arden Starflower."
Jerod goes over to Ossian's horse and riffles through one of the bags on his horse before pulling out a banner that exactly matches the color scheme described, along with another segmented banner pole.
"You'll want to put that up." Jerod says, handing it to Ossian before moving off a few yards and posting the two banners he has. The first uses the colours and markings of Xanadu, the heraldry for a royal emissary on official business. The second is styled in Jerod's colors and contains heraldic markings for both Xanadu and Amber. It also contains, prominently, the markings that denote a Prince.
"They'll be able to see these." Jerod says, getting back on his horse. "We'll see how quickly they respond, and more importantly, who they send out. If we don't get anything in about an hour's time, I'll see about having a meteor impact at the horizon's edge. The explosion won't be a problem for us, but I'm sure they'll get the hint real fast.
"It'll be your show." he says to Ossian. "I'll be in the background watching things."
Raven nods agreement to that.
Within ten minutes the gate opens and a man rides out, slowly. He's dressed in modern earth clothing, and has a leather jacket that looks like it can stop both the fierce wind and an errant dagger. "Lords and Princes of Amber, I am Brother Mago. I greet you in the name of the Saint Pastoral Chapterhouse of the Order of Klybes. Your coming was not unexpected. Please, come in. The weather is unseasonal." His tone of voice is calm, but not friendly.
The entrance to which he leads the group is different from the one Ossian came in by. There is evidence of some higher technology in play. It's quite possible that they used this entrance just to allow Ossian to see the difference.
"You must be tired. Rooms have been prepared."
Ossian grins. "Your hospitality is commendable. However, you are mistaken. We are not tired, and will not be staying for long. Bring us to Hannibal, or another of your leaders."
Jerod is silent as Ossian goes through the introductions, watching all around him, and feeling for the disturbance in Order that sorcery brings. He tweaks a string here or there in the threads of probability, adjusting just in case a meteor really is needed. He'd prefer not to have one though...things gets too messy.
Raven likewise keeps her mouth shut, studying this Brother Mago, his clothes, and the fortress. She keeps her arms crossed, looking unfriendly; she'd try for intimidating, but she's always thought that's harder to pull off when you know you're not the meanest person in the room. If the overall effect is that of a lesser Naval officer backing up his captain at a tense negotiation with the enemy, well...
"Doctor Chew has been summoned. He will not be long. He has been authorized to discuss matters with you." The monk looks at Ossian. "Since you are here, and certainly aware of our role as information brokers, you may wish to conduct personal business with us as a side affair.
"We learn many things. Please consider, " he says, turning to Jerod, "anything you may wish to learn from us, and what you might be willing to offer us."
He smiles and looks at Raven. "Or indeed, anything you would wish to have us keep silent."
Perhaps it is the time Jerod spent with the Pattern in his mind, the immersion of Reality that hardens oneself against the vagaries of Shadow and those who are part of it, that sharpens their personality and defines who they truly are...but there is a look that the monk will see...that Raven and Ossian will see...a look that few see...behind the face of Court and politics and bland conversation concealing threats and promises....there is something...more. Jerod hears the monk and his words, but his own calculations are far ahead...so far ahead...and for the briefest moment there is a flash of that, of an intellect concealed from view, hidden from those that might be apprised of it's true nature. That flash is all that is needed to know that the Order of Klybes has nothing that Jerod wants, or that they could offer that would come close to what Jerod might possess.
There is something else as well, something that is suppressed after a moment, something that says that perhaps it is better that the monks do not possess anything he might truly desire...for the thought might occur to those who consider it...that Jerod might decide to simply take it instead...and crack this world asunder in the process without regard to the consequence.
But the moment passes, the "something" fades and Jerod remains silent, watchful...and waiting.
Ossian just shakes his head. "We will talk with the doctor."
The monk nods. "The rooms behind you are for your use." He makes a gesture at three identical looking doors along the north wall. "You may also tour our sculpture garden and public library. Speak to any brother if you wish anything. Dr. Chew will be with you as soon as possible."
"I do like sculpture, and I don't like waiting. " Ossian says looking at his cousins. "Shall we?"
"Keep your eyes open." Jerod replies.
"Fine by me," Raven agrees.
The sculpture garden is large and the sculptures lean towards the monumental. Amid the many images of monks, there are some more modern works. In one niche there is a a conical statue of a mountain, looking much like Kolvir. There are climbers on it, and they seem to become increasingly happy as they ascend. The ones at the top have wings. There is a bench across from it.
Ossian looks closely at this sculpture, as it shares some elements with the Sundering Monument. He sits down on the bench to see what perspective that would give him. He looks at Jerod, raising an eyebrow.
Jerod looks at it only briefly. "Moonriders." he muses.
It is indeed similar to the Sundering Monument, with subtle changes. Its title plate is labelled "After Amber". It's likely a reaction piece to Ossian's work. Or an interpretation. Given the materials and what Ossian can tell from the style, it might well have been made in Amber and brought here. Not by anyone who was working publicly in the city, or else Ossian would know of it, but someone knew his work and made this.
At a distance from this is a statue entitled 'Lir'. It is more like a diorama than a statue and it looks like Hokusai's The Great Wave off Kanagawa. It has a bench across from it as well.
Jerod looks at it the way a Rebman would look at it, visualizing the three dimensional space of the wave the way that surfacers rarely can, seeing beyond just the surface effects. But the moment lasts only long enough to imprint the statue for future reference before Jerod returns to the here and now.
The layers of the statue do go deeper than are strictly necessary, as if part of the goal is a study of the lower forces. It seems more imaginative than accurate at those levels.
A monk approaches Raven, and hands the captain a piece of paper.
Raven eyes the monk warily as she accepts the piece of paper. She doesn't make any attempt to conceal the note - anyone sufficiently curious to do so could easily read over her shoulder - she just reads it silently.
It says "We are, in addition to sellers of secrets, keepers of secrets. We know one of yours, and we wish to discuss matters with you. It need not be here, it need not be now. You may contact the Brotherhood at a later date, if you wish. We are not unfriendly."
It is sealed with the Wax 'K' seal of the order.
Raven says, "Huh," at the piece of paper, and then wads it up and shoves it in the pocket of her coat, where an awful lot of things seem to end up. "Guess that ain't a surprise. They fancy they've got some secret of mine and want to talk about it at some point. Can't imagine what." She snorts. "Ain't like my Navy career's ups and downs are hard to find out."
"They may be referring to your heritage." Jerod replies, after the monk has departed. "The monks have tendrils in a number of places."
A man enters the garden. He's not dressed as the other monks, but in more form-fitting clothes. He's still covered from head to foot, but he looks more modern than anyone in the castle has to date. He wears a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles.
He bows. "Welcome back, Lord Ossian. Prince Jerod, Captain Raven, I know you by reputation. You are welcome to this chapter-house. I am Dr. Hannibal Chew. I am told you came to see me?"
Jerod continues his watchfulness and his silence, letting Ossian take the lead.
Raven likewise defers to Ossian to handle the conversation.
"Not you in person " Ossian says" We are here, sent by King Random, to bring home the body of Lord Reid, and to relieve you of the woman in your custody. Papillon."
He nods, agreeably. "Then you are here to treat with us. I will send for chairs, and wine if you wish it. We have taken excellent care of each and I am sure we can determine appropriate compensation for our efforts."
Jerod remains silent, but he begins to adjust probabilities, sifting for changes, nudging the gloom. Part of him digs deeper as well, for storms and lightning and hail, and worse if needed.
Ossian does not smile. "The King does not offer any compensation. " he says with a certain hardness in his voice.
Raven glances around the area, curious to see if the conversation is being watched by anyone she can see.
"A pity," replies Dr. Chew. "Perhaps your Lordships," he says, emphasizing the title, "would wish to provide us a private endowment as a token of friendship for our efforts on your departed cousin's behalf?" He is not smiling. "It would expedite matters."
Jerod stop sifting now, and instead starts shoving. Weather worsening, the shifting of earth deep beneath the surface, preparing to release itself in a massive tremor when he but nudges it forward.
He digs for the kernel of the shadow that lets magic work here and finds it, ready to snuff it out the instant that it is needed.
And all the while, at the edge of his rage, lurks something much worse...
"How many have sent to them, to my people?" Marissa asks, her ghost on the edge of his consciousness. "Is it not the destination of the unrepentant, the incorrigible."
Jerod does not answer, focusing on his rage and the shifting, setting the triggers, pushing the world to his will's vision.
A vision of pale skin flitters across his mind's eye. "Must they always have the chance to redeem themselves, to do what you see to be right? The horde awaits those who are irredeemable...is that not the way?"
"Everyone has a chance." Jerod thinks. "You had a chance."
"You gave me that chance." she whispers, the incisors barely visible, blood red eyes staring through him. "And I thanked you for my death."
"I do not want your thanks."
"But you have it anyway. And for that, you have also my home. You know you can do it. Open a path to the darkness. Let them through. The storm on the horizon...the horde that knows you, the Prince who loved she who was named Death in their tongue...."
"I did not love Death. Just you..."
"The horde will not care...they will only care for your rage and sorrow. It will lead them to the irredeemable, those who deserve no mercy. You could be the one who leads them." her ghost muses. "The phrase your father taught you...the one to fear for it is so easy for you to take on the mantle. What was it?"
"A pale horse appears, whose rider is Death, and Hades follows him. Death was granted a fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, with hunger, with death, and with the beasts of the earth." Jerod replies.
"The horde are those beasts...it is fitting." Marissa whispers, as she fades from view.
Jerod is silent in his mind...waiting...
Raven eyes Dr. Chew and amuses herself by trying to decide if he's asking for "compensation" for himself or for the organization at a whole. She finally settles on the organization; most people are more than willing to get rid of a dead body, she's found, so there must be something bigger.
Jerod feels the probabilities shift and move and things are ready at his choice.
Raven thinks they are being observed, perhaps by a team of observers.
Ossian does not smile either. "We know that you are wise enough to give us the body and the girl without the need for any reward. Our memories are long."
Chew looks disappointed. "Of course. My superiors may not be as wise as I am, but I will try to persuade them. If you will excuse me, I will have to discuss matters with them. If you reconsider, you may talk to any brother." He bows, in the Klybesian fashion and makes to leave.
Jerod decides it is time to provide Chew with something by which to "persuade" his superiors. He focuses, shifts a probability, then another, and waits for the few seconds before meteor airbursts over the fortress, high enough to do no damage, but low enough for the air to shudder with the explosion that will emanate from it. Enough for one to realize what a closer burst would do, or a ground strike.
And still he watches silently...sifting for the magic presence, ready to shut it off should it flare.
Dr. Chew watches it burst. "I shall remind them of that, as well, your lordships." He leaves the three alone in the garden, except for the watchers.
Ossian glances at Jerod with a smile.
Raven tenses, glancing up, and then nods slightly to herself. Right. Probably Jerod. "So is it normal for them to be watching us all the time?" she asks lowly.
"I would be surprised if they didn't." Ossian says.
Jerod watches Chew depart, then motions for Ossian and Raven to approach.
"Chew is on Martin's bad side. He's got an interest in our family, our blood it seems. This doesn't bode well and I doubt they're going to release either Reid's body or the girl. We may need to be out of here fast and I may need to crack this shadow in half." he says quietly. "How fast can you get a trump open if the world is coming down around our ears?" looking at Ossian.
Ossian eyes gleam. "It is not instant. But less than a minute. I can contact someone and hold it open. I think the Klybesians will notice that I have my mind elsewhere though."
"Can't promise I'm fast," Raven offers, "but I ain't the one doing the talking, either. It may be kind of obvious, though."
"Be ready to open it then." Jerod says to Ossian. "Get yourself and Raven through if things are going to hell. And make sure that Random knows about Chew." and looks at Raven. "Cover him so he's got time."
Raven nods. "Will do."
"Give me the beach Trump. " Ossian tells Raven, with more authority than Jerod has heard him use.
The sun is setting, and the cold wind is a harbinger of poor weather, probably of Jerod's doing. The monks are fewer in the gardens now, until eventually there is only one by the gates, waiting in his thin robe for the monastery's guests to come in.
"Time to up the ante." Jerod says, mostly to himself. "Don't want to give them time to think too much."
He sifts more, delving more into Shadow and decides the probabilities are good for the earth to shift, plates to adjust to relieve stresses deep underground. Not enough to bring down buildings...yet. But enough to rattle walls and knock things from shelves.
The ground rocks as Jerod intended. In the distance, a promontory not unlike the one they are standing on shifts during its own aftershocks and collapses.
"Are you all right, my Lords?" asks the monk at the garden gate.
Ossian concentrate on the Trump to open it. "Stay close to me. " he says grimly.
Raven moves to block the monk's view of Ossian, casually, and says, "Aye." She's looking at the monk when she says it, but she's acknowledging Ossian as well.
"How long do you want to give Chew?" Jerod asks Ossian, weighing options. "If he thinks he's in a bad way, he may be deciding to make a run for it."
"Do you want to capture him, or just kill him? Capture is more risky, I think."
"I want a threat eliminated and the Klybesians to know that pissing us off is a really bad idea." Jerod replies.
"If that gets us Chew...more or less intact, that'll be icing."
"Got a question," Raven says. "Do we think he's the leader here, or just the guy what got the short straw to come out and talk to us? If he ain't anybody important except that he pissed off the Prince, might as well just kill him and be done with it."
"It might be both." Jerod says. "He's been around too much I think to be a flunky. Probability and realities tend to collide with us because of our nature. I'd guess Chew is involved because he knows Amberites well, but that's a guess. That he was involved with Folly and Martin means there's more here than just a bunch of monks wanting to trade info."
He looks at Ossian. "Your show, your call."
Ossian nods. "I agree that he is not a normal flunky at least. I'm not happy with abandoning Reid's body though."
"Assuming we don't manage to bring this place down around our ears," Raven suggests, "ain't a reason we can't look for him once we're done with Chew. Is there? Maybe one of the monks will be willing to help then."
"I agree." Jerod says. "We can dig it out of the rubble if it's here. And I'm reasonably certain there will be few survivors if the sky starts falling on them."
"Ok." Ossian says "Do it..."
"Find cover." Jerod says, reaching down into Shadow to find the point where magic has its origin for this place.
Ordinarily he would just turn it off, adjusting the probabilities to keep it in that state long enough for stuff to work.
Now, he's not in the mood to be...generous. Now he reach for it, finds it, and with the Pattern summoned if needed, he proceeds to separate it from this Shadow. He wants no magic for the monks before he begins with tearing the fortress down around their ears.
Jerod's work should stifle shadow magics of this shadow, but foreign magics and Sorcery cannot be so easily affected. He spends moments working at it and it should be next to impossible to use regular magics in the monastery and grounds.
Ossian is quiet, concentrating to open the beach Trump. "Tell me what happens. Pinch my arm if you need to get out really quick." he whispers.
Raven nods. "Aye, I will. But we should try that getting under cover thing. Whatever's going to happen ain't likely to help what you're doing." She takes a quick glance around. "Back up some. Gonna have to squeeze in with that wave thing."
Jerod filters more, sifting, checking. "Magic will no longer work. External sorcery only." he says, his expression a little distant.
He reaches out again, this time downward, inward. He is meticulous now, focused to a fault...the effect to be produced absolutely precise. One shock of the earth...short, sharp, powerful.
Focused precisely to cause very selective damage in the monastery...leaving the promontory upon which he stands totally unaffected, leaving the entrance there standing untouched, but collapsing any other one.
And within the monastery, the fissure in the floor that will result from the earth-shock will cross the length of it...and the toxin fumes from the beneath the earth (without lava) will boil up to all the chambers within the structure.
Not fast enough to overwhelm all the inhabitants without warning...but enough to hurt them and weaken them if they escape. Those that choose to be idle inside the monastery, Jerod is certain, will not do well at all.
"We're about to have guests." Jerod says. "I've decided the interior of the monastery is going to become uninhabitable for a time."
The ground shakes and the monastery is damaged. A side entrance and the southern facade collapse, and Jerod thinks he observes a slightly green cloud in the evening gloom.
The brother at the remaining door runs inside and stumbles backwards, coughing.
No one comes out.
"If you want to live, come here." Jerod calls to the brother.
Ossian is quiet. Is the Trump opening?
Raven watches the monk to see whether he's going to be sensible or whether he's going to need to be pulled out of the doorway.
Ossian has made trump contact and could easily pass people through or pull them after himself. The Monk staggers towards Jerod. "What's happening here?" he asks.
The gas is settling but not dispersing.
"A response is happening. Your man Chew decided not to heed the wisdom of experience and thought defiance of Amber would be acceptable now that Oberon is dead. His Majesty Random thinks that is most unwise." Jerod replies to the Monk. "How many people are in the monastery? Answer quickly, unless you want to be the only survivor."
Jerod makes adjustments, allowing for future probabilities to develop that would permit new breaches to develop to vent the gas, but does not yet initiate them. He wishes to know if this Monk will cooperate, or if he is obstinate enough to condemn his comrades.
Ossian smiles. "I am ready."
"The monk at the door might want to live," Raven says quietly to Ossian. "So far, anyway." She deliberately moves to put herself between the monk and Ossian, as well; no harm in being careful.
"People? A dozen, usually." He steps forward towards Jerod, then pitches forward onto his face in the dirt. Perhaps he was overcome by the gas.
Jerod trips the triggers, working to ensure that the gas will vent and dissipate, and checks the Monk to determine his state. "Time to see about what's inside."
Ossian still keep focused on the Trump. " I will keep the Trump open. Good work, Jerod."
The monk is breathing, and should recover if kept in a warm place. He's got a nasty bump on his lip from falling, but it doesn't look debilitating.
It starts to rain, further washing the remnants of the gas away from the outside of the monastery.
Jerod drags him to an area sheltered from the rain and props him up. He then checks on the remaining entrance, noting for the level of gas to determine how long he can operate inside.
"The work isn't done til we get your friend back and find Reid." Jerod says. "Time for gas masks I think."
Ossian nods."Let's check inside. Then I can close our escape door, and be more effective here."
Raven joins Jerod near the entrance, although she stays back a little. "Where are we looking for these masks?"
The gas has dissipated quickly, and while the chapter house smells unpleasant, it's not harmful. There may be pockets of gas in the cellar or near the fissure that are dangerous, though.
Jerod digs through a pocket, comes out with a tiny vial of liquid. He shakes it and then opens it, wiping some of it on the back of his hand.
"It's reactive." he says. "It will respond to the toxicity in the air, changing color to show it's dangerous. If we need masks, we can find them. I have no doubt the monks were more resourceful than even they will realize.
"Time to go looking. Be mindful that any monks still functional are not likely to be in a pleasant mood."
Ossian smiles. He keep the Trump contact open, sightseeing stumbling after Jerod and Raven.
"Aye?" Raven says dryly. "Can't imagine why. Ain't like something tried to kill them or anything." She snorts and heads inside.
The room is dimly lit by a chandelier overhead. Most of the candles are extinguished, although some sputter along, glowing red stumps, providing scant light to the entrance chamber. Hurricane lanterns beside the door are unlit as well. The building creaks, perhaps settling from the recent underground shift.
The hall is lined with paintings, probably centuries old, and covered with generations of candle soot. It would take a team of curators months or years to clean them. The entire monastery could hold three score monks. There's only evidence that a dozen or so rooms are occupied, and only one table in the common dining room seems to have general use. A few chairs are knocked over in here, and also in what looks like it might be a prayer study room and library. At the end of the hall, there's a door to what is very likely to be an office.
There's no one inside the monastery.
The rooms receives cursory inspections, sufficient to verify that there are no threats, before proceeding to the office. Jerod however is more concerned about "home turf" and as such makes no noise while walking, moving heel to toe as he steps, the spear loose in his grip as needed.
Raven follows a little distance behind, checking to make sure no one gets any wise ideas to stick their nose out after Jerod passes. She tries to move as quietly as possible as well - but she's drawn no weapon as of yet.
No one and nothing intercepts either Jerod or Raven as they approach the office.
Once the door is opened, Jerod takes in the contents at a glance. The room has either been lightly ransacked or the occupants left in a hurry. The bookshelves have gaps where materials have been removed, and the chairs have been pushed back to the edge of the room. Jerod notes a basin of water and a number of cloths wadded next to it. Perhaps there was some sort of makeshift gas protection available to some of the monks. It looks like the carpet covered most of the cracks in this room.
There's no obvious rooms or exits that Jerod hasn't checked, and yet there are no monks.
A quick search of the room should suffice to find the exit that they used. Jerod proceeds with all due efficiency...checking for anything out of place, drafts, scrape marks, etc.
"Need to see what they might have departed with." Jerod says. "They took stuff with them...which means they don't want us seeing it. Either it's valuable to use against us, or its something that we'd kill them for possessing. Probably both."
"I'm going to check out that library, then," Raven answers. "Ain't seeing anywhere else likely for them to keep valuables other than here and there, unless they was storing stuff in the furniture and the like. Holler if you need me."
She heads for the room in question to give it a similar inspection.
The library looks intact, with books lining the shelves. For the most part, the books are hand-copied, large, and leather-bound, although there are some which seem more advanced. Those are printed and bound with thinner covers. A sample Raven picks up has engineering data in it: tables of trigonometric functions, simple physical formulae, constant values, and such.
Two books that Raven finds are related to this monatery. One is "The Kybeasian Rule". There are many copies of it. The other is a history of this monastery. It mentions a vault and burials, but indicates that it's in the nearby hills.
Raven grabs a few random copies of "The Kybeasian Rule" and compares a few random pages within them to see if all the books are likely the same or not - basically making sure that it's some sort of standard text that each monk would have and not, say, a multi-volume history or something.
Each book is a hand-copied original, with a unique name of the copyist and birth and death dates and the name of the same burial plot in the nearby hills.
That done, she'll take history of the monastery and one of the copies of the other and head back in Jerod's direction.
Jerod searches the room methodically. The monks didn't have time to take everything, and left ledgers and the minutia of decades or more of presence here. Jerod finds eleven names listed as active brothers.
There are records of foodstuffs and materials of two sorts: those bought locally and those brought here. The latest volumes are gone, and it would take some time to pore over the entire remaining set. The record does show frequent guests although Jerod doesn't recognize any of the names, even though he knows, for instance, that Ossian was recently a visitor. Nor is there any sign of Reid's name.
The shelves conceal a niche, which was not exactly concealed but was not in plain sight. There's dust in it, and it was disturbed lately.
There's nothing obvious here to explain why the Monks picked this place to have an outpost.
Jerod lets the Pattern filter in his mind, seeing if there is something to this place that makes it naturally likely to be a connection point, a place where those who are real are more likely to arrive. Or if there has been a recent disturbance for reality.
Jerod detects no natural or obviously created shadow-paths in the room Whatever happened here was "normal" insofar as things Jerod could detect with Pattern. He also knows he's suppressed most shadow-magic, leaving him with only a limited selection of ways out of the room.
Raven returns, carrying books.
"Looks like they keep the bodies across the way," Raven states, tapping one of the books. "Don't seem like anything's missing except what I just took. Thought they might be an interesting read to somebody."
Ossian drops the Trump connection and looks around. Is this the place he came to last time, or another one?
While Ossian wasn't in this room, it looks the same, except for the great cracks in the floor and the rubble from the collapse.
Jerod nods, making one final check of the room for the proverbial secret exit. He knows of a few ways to get out of a building without magic...exits, trumps and Pattern. The latter two do not bode well. "If there's nothing here, we'll see if that maybe a more fruitful search."
There is a cellar under the kitchens. They find one man there. He may have been asleep when the gas seeped up. He's young, probably still a novice, or a kitchen helper. He's wearing an apron. He's still unconscious.
Ossian ties the boy up with a rope, and checks that he lies as comfortably as possible.
"They had a reception room overaller there. I think we should check it out. " (Ossian wants to check the room where he did his first negotiation with the monks. The room with the trap door in the floor.)
It's over by the collapsed entrance. The three of them can probably dig it out in short order. Other than the collapse, it looks as Ossian remembers it.
Time to dig stuff out, and Jerod gets to it.
Raven likewise sets to digging; she has worked on collapsed piles of rubble before, judging by the tenor of her occasional muttered curse.
"It had a trap door in the floor. I might be interesting to know what was beneath it. " Ossian says, as he also starts digging stuff out.
The trap door is easily found, and is broken like every other thing in this room. The door is very thick, perhaps to soundproof the room, but that wasn't enough to prevent destruction.
The trapdoor lets into a cell, currently unoccupied. The fall isn't far enough to hurt anyone. Beyond the cell is a passageway, perhaps leading to cellars. Beyond the passageway is darkness.
"Oh, damn. " Ossian says. "This looks intriguing and dangerous. I vote for going in."
"Ain't a reason not to," Raven agrees. "Unless what you was doing made it so it'll collapse on us, of course." That's to Jerod. "We'll want some of those lamps."
"It shouldn't." Jerod says, making sure that lamps are available for illumination. "Let's go."
The cellars are not evenly lined up under the monastery, but head away from the cliff's edge. There is a little collection of cells at the end, but it's unclear if they are prison cells or rooms for monks. The walls are damp and the passage looks hand-hewn. If it runs straight, it will pass very close to the cemetery.
There are some more offices down here, and some storage rooms, but it seems different from the rest of the structure. Older, for one thing.
Ossian studies the stonework. Can he deduce the tech level and architectural style?
"Jerod. Would you notice if this passage leads to another shadow? "Ossian asks
"Unless it was exceptionally well placed, yes." Jerod says. "It was a specialty of mine, sniffing out cracks in reality. A change in shadow would have to be very subtle to go unnoticed. Not impossible mind you, just difficult.
"This appears to head close to the cemetary. They might have underground crypts, maybe where Reid is. If they are heading that way, they might be slower as a group. Let's see if we're faster. Be mindful of gas pockets."
"Book I found said something about a vault," Raven comments. "This don't look like a vault, but maybe we can get there from here?"
The walls are hand-hewn and the edges are reasonably straight and precise, so it could've been hewn with modern tools. It doesn't look like miners' work, and it's too narrow to have been a mine that was finished, unless the walls were filled in. Someone went to some effort to make it appear like an above-ground corridor.
The book Raven mentioned covers a long enough time period for that to have been accomplished even with primitive tools.
Jerod doesn't immediately detect any natural shadowpaths, but the tunnel goes some distance into darkness.
If there is a shadow path, it could be hard to detect. One thing Jerod has seen is that many shadow paths are directional, which is to say you can walk east 100 paces and stay in the shadow, but if you turn and walk west 100 paces, you may find yourself very far from home. Jerod can certainly notice when he transits, but not if he doesn't change places.
"Lamp time." Jerod says, making sure to have ample illumination before they proceed.
Ossian lights his lamp as well. "I wonder how many of them escaped this way."
"Only the ones fast enough to get here before the room fell in," Raven answers dryly. "Don't seem like there were many of them living here at all. I was more wondering if they kept the new monks down here or prisoners..."
The lamps are bright, and the reflectors and works seem to be machine-made. The tunnel is finished with plaster all the way down, with almost no decoration along it. It runs for a good distance even beyond the lights range, and the cells run out after the first hundred yards. Even so, this place could house many more than the dozen or so advertised.
The tunnel is nearly empty as they continue down it. The floor is smooth enough to roll things along, and the passage is flat. At about half the distance to the hills and the graveyard, there is a small door marked "maintenance". It doesn't look to have been opened recently, but it's hard to tell.
Jerod makes no sounds as he travels the tunnel, listening carefully for faint echoes. The floor demands attention for marks, dust or lack thereof, evidence of movement, numbers and tracings for movement of heavy goods.
Ossian smiles. "Stay clear, I'll open it."
Jerod nods, moving off to one side, close enough to help but out of an immediate firing line.
Raven takes the other side of the door, setting her lamp down and to the side for the moment.
The door opens easily, and the closet is full of cleaning supplies. It is quite cluttered, but it does seem as if there is a path to the back that is clear. Jerod thinks that there might be a shadow path around here somewhere, but it could as easily be back down the main passage as through the jackets hanging at the back of the closet.
"Something..." Jerod says, before he does a check for the back of the closet, looking for a door or hatch, seeing if there is a passage out from here to the path itself.
Ossian grins. "Where do we think this will lead us? Gateway?"
"Is that likely?" Raven asks.
At the back, behind a sheet of what looks like modern plywood, is a stair that goes up to a pile of rubble and down to another transverse passageway. Jerod thinks the shadow path is below, if it exists. He can't tell if anyone had walked it recently, but it would make for a clean escape.
Of course the graveyard in the hills would as well.
"Can't tell." Jerod says. "We'd have to travel it. If someone travelled it, then we'd have to pick up a trail on the far side. Not easy to do. Not impossible, but not easy. Have to mess with the Shadow at the other end, force a dip in the fabric to bring them to us. That can get messy."
He turns back. "Let's check the vaults first, see what's up there. We can double back for this. I'd suggest we pick up the pace a bit."
"Sounds reasonable." Ossian says and starts further down the corridor. "Your wouldn't be able to detect who made the party, would you?"
"Only if I took time and if they were unique." Jerod says. "We leave footprints...the trace of who we are can be found if we're careful about sifting Shadow for it and the person leaving the trace is not careful. Each of us shifts Shadow according to our personality...we imprint Shadow by our nature....so that can be detected but it's difficult. If this is a regular shadow path, then anyone can traverse it if they know how...they wouldn't enough of a trace to find for me. Maybe Fiona or Bleys could detect it."
"Is it likely they could come back that way?" Raven asks as she follows. "Can't see how we'll be gone that long, but if it is, it ain't going to hurt anything to stick a bucket in front of the door."
"Shadows paths can go both ways." Jerod says. "It's not a bad idea."
With the door suitably blocked by janitorial supplies, the trio head down the smooth, poorly-lit corridor at a faster pace. They're well past any lingering gas pockets and the corridor is very plain. While there's no evidence of it, anything (including doors, cave entrances, or zombie hordes) could be behind the neat, white plastered walls.
After about a quarter of a watch, there's a light ahead. It's a harsh, yellow light, as if from an incandescent bulb or a carbon arc. It doesn't have the warm glow of oil or candles. It soon frames itself into a doorway.
Jerod checks for a shift that might have occurred, sifting his memory of the outpost's shadow feel when he suppressed the magic content vs now to see if there is a variant, any changes. Artificial light leads to technology and guns and those are generally bad unless Jerod is the one who has them.
An examination of the doorway (look, sound) is also in order.
Ossian frowns. "Let's not forget Reid."
Jerod detects no signs of a shift, it seems they have somewhat modern technology ahead that they don't use in their monastery.
The harsh light of the doorway leads into the harsh light of a wide underground room. It looks to be a combination morgue and embalming center. There are a number of cabinets that could contain fresh bodies.
The room is cold, but that could just be the signs and portents that Jerod raised. It seems this room may have been gloomy without any help.
There are signs that whoever was here last left in a hurry. Chairs are overturned, items are not put away.
"Search." Jerod says. "Reid...and anything else. They were searching for something I think. We need to know what."
And he proceeds to search. He is methodical and thorough and leaves nothing to chance.
Raven's search methods are somewhat less methodical than Jerod's, but no less thorough; one might think she'd tossed a room for information before. She starts on the other side of the room, though, so she's not coming along immediately behind him.
Jerod's side of the room contains file cabinets full of the names of dead monks, who have been buried here for centuries. The early entries are of burials, but soon monk's bones began to be used to construct "the chapel", although it doesn't say exactly where. The rest of their bodies were made into plaster, which was used for repairs throughout the complex.
The handwriting changes a number of times, but about 75 years ago it changes drastically, and the records become more precise and less frequent. There's a file for Reid. He is in a temporary tomb below ground while a suitable place is being prepared.
Raven's side of the room contains the physical and chemical compounds of the mortuary. It all seems unnecesarily fussy to Raven. There seem to be more than enough fake body parts to make a saint 50 feet tall with 9 heads, if the monks were so inclined.
Ossian's wall has a set of corpse-shelves that look to have modern refrigeration keeping them cool and a stairway up.
It's pretty clear that the exodus happened from the back room to the stairs up. That's also where Reid's body is supposed to be.
Ossian takes a quick look at the refrigerated shelves. If there are any bodies he wants to take a quick look at them. Are they monks?
They are currently empty. They seem to have a secondary function that involves heating, somehow.
"I suggest we move on. "he says." And we take a few of those files. I'd like to have a look at the handwriting."
Jerod, having memorized the file contents passes the file to Ossian. "Reid." is all he says, making a notation for the "chapel" in his memory, for future reference.
"We need to backtrack. See if we missed anything. That Shadow path is likely where they took him if they've still got the body."
"And not up there?" Raven asks, gesturing towards the stairs. "You think they would have taken him back to that closet? I mean, I ain't going to argue that they look to be a little chummy with the dead here, but if I'm running because a place is coming down, I ain't grabbing a body on the way out. Ruins make a perfectly good grave for just about anybody. Or thing."
"We follow up for Reid's tomb." Jerod says. "If he's there, we get him back. I've got a bad feeling...and I don't like bad feelings. They usually happen right before things go to hell."
Raven snorts. "You ain't the only one. Ain't been through many paths in places I didn't expect to find them that didn't lead to trouble." She scowls. "That well-hidden usually means it's worse than most."
She heads for the stairs.
Ossian follows. He carries the Trump in his left hand to be able to open a connection quickly.
The stairs lead up and reach a short passage. Off the passage is a room that is not where the Klybesians once showed Ossian Reid's tomb. If this is a temporary storage place, then it's unclear what they might've been planning for a more permanent grave. Nonetheless this room is the one mentioned in the file. There are more chambers further down the corridor.
The sarcophagus is marked with a number and there is a sketch, clearly of Reid, on a music stand by the door. It would take many men to lift the lid, or any Amberite. Behind it, and throughout the room, this chamber's walls are lined with the preserved bones of people. There are rows of femurs climbing the walls like ladders, arm-bones wired to hands to hold torches, and decorative patterns of skulls attached to the ceiling. In one corner, the skeleton of a sword-bearing young child is fully complete, and has had additional bones attached at the back in the shape of wings.
There is no sign of recent travel to this particular chamber, although the stairs behind the three Amberites do continue further up towards daylight.
"Where are the sorcerers when we need them? "Ossian asks, looking at the sarcophagus " Let's open that and see what remains."
Jerod goes over the sarcophagus but does not open it immediately, checking instead for triggers and other issues, having already decided that any such traps are likely to fail when activated. "The sketch." he says. "Is it viable for use?"
Raven spends a minute eyeing the bones all around, and then comments, "I hope he's not already on the wall... Ain't got the first clue how we'd find him if he is..."
The sketch is not a trump, but it was clearly executed by Reid or a student of his. Or a good copyist.
Jerod finds no traps, but investigation of the great stone box suggests that it has been opened and closed more than once.
Jerod looks over the lid and decides he's not in the mood to try to flip it off by himself, which would be reckless and messy. "Ossian." he says, moving to one end and preparing to lift. "Carefully. Anything bad happens, let it drop straight down and jump back."
"If you need another hand, say so. Which way are you coming off?" Raven asks, and as soon as she's got an answer, she moves to the other side - clearly making sure she's out of the way. And that she can see what's going on.
Ossian takes his place on the other side of the sarcophagus. "Be prepared to kill things if needed."
And with that, it's "lift and heave"...and Jerod's guessing he's taking most of the weight if it's very heavy. Raven's also in position so it's time to open up the magic box and see what's inside.
Jerod and Ossian lift and heave in concert, removing the stone lid and revealing a simple box, perhaps of pine or other soft wood. It has no lid. The outer sarcophagus lid makes a dull, echoing klang as the two Amberites set it down.
Inside the lidless inner coffin lies Reid. If he weren't not breathing, he could easily be asleep. He looks unharmed. He's holding something in his hands. It looks like jewelry.
Jerod looks Reid over momentarily, cautious as always but knowing that if something is available to be looked at...someone's going to look at it. So he carefully removes whatever it is and takes a look at it, making sure that it is visible to everyone for viewing.
Ossian examines Reid closely. Is this the real Reid?
Then he looks at Jerod' find.
Raven takes a moment to step to the doorway and look both directions, just to make sure they haven't immediately gotten anyone's attention with the noise, and then moves to look at the jewelry as well.
It's some sort of prayer beads, with letters engraved on each. They are old shapes, although not as old a Reid. The letters on them spell out a message. "Sir Reid of Amber, KCHU son of Pastoral, GCHU. Returned by Goddess' Grace."
Looking more closely at Reid's body, it's possible they took tissue and blood samples.
"Bastards" Ossian says. "I guess it would be best if we found those samples also. Do we know if it is possible to grow anything dangerous from that amount of tissue?"
"Martin blew a hospital into smithereens because of blood samples taken from Folly." Jerod says, looking over the beads carefully. "Guess which doctor made a running escape? I'd suggest we tear this place apart but I'd guess that the samples and notes concerning that will be the things we won't find. Samples like that have no value except as weapons against us, so us finding them would be tantamount to admitting you're trying to harm us."
He pulls up the Pattern and takes a look at the beads through the reality filter that Pattern imposes, looking to see if there anything unusual about it (age, materials, magic).
The beads are neither alive, nor so imprinted by the living as to have magical properties. They are worn, as if they have been used for a long time. The letters on them were re-carved recently.
"The book mentioned vaults, if we've got ourselves into that part of their place here," Raven comments. "May be worth it to see if we can find where they'd store that stuff, see if we can tell how many samples they was keeping around here."
There are multiple chambers beyond Reid's. The next one uses all skulls, the one beyond it seems to be built mostly of ribcages. The most likely place they have to store such things would be back in the lab/morgue at the bottom of the stairs.
"Shall we double back, and search the lab once more? " Ossian asks. He also takes the sketch an puts it in his sketch book. " I wonder if it would be possible to track body parts with the help of Trumps."
"An interesting idea." Jerod says. "Not sure if it's feasible though. Trumps are connections to people. Not sure how much you'd want to try a trump call to a liver or a pint of blood.
"First though, I think we get Reid out of here. Then we check the lab. I'd say we trump him through to another location. Someone may or may not have to go through depending on where that is. Once that's done, then lab, then that path I think. I'll be sure to bring down some wrath on this place to make it disappear permanently before we go down the path."
"Why send him to a place and not to a person?" Raven asks. She's clearly curious, not questioning the suggestion itself.
"We'd have to send him to another person if we trump him." Jerod says. "I keep forgetting stuff. You've never used trumps before have you?"
"My place Trumps are not suitable for dumping an Amber body in without a guard." Ossian says "Either one of us go there or we Trump someone."
"Been through one," Raven answers after a moment's thought. "Got contacted by a sketch, which I guess is the same thing...? And had how to use them explained."
Jerod nods, noting both sets of comments. "Random." he says finally. "He'll want to know we've got the body, and Xanadu is the one place it would be safe to keep it. Even in death, we can warp reality."
Ossian nods. "He might not like it, but it's still wise." Unless his cousins protest Ossian pulls out his Trump deck and calls Random.
"I seriously doubt he's going to like anything we've got to say about this." Jerod offers, but does not protest about the call.
"At least then we won't be the only ones," Raven says dryly. She also doesn't protest the call.
Ossian tries to Trump Random
"It's Ossian. I have some news, and a body."
Random grunts, nods, and sits up. He's shirtless and in bed. He holds up a finger to Ossian. "Bide."
He turns his head somewhat, and Ossian can see the bedroom behind him. It's tastefully made up, and very traditionally feminine. The King speaks to someone Ossian can't see. "Go find Gilt and tell him I need him here. Discreetly. Go." After a moment, he turns back to Ossian.
"I should be glad it's only one body. Assuming the body isn't a surprise, hand it through and tell me the news."
Ossian lifts Reid's body an hands it to Random. "We talked with a representative of the monks, a Dr. Hannibal Chew, whom I have met before. Jerod recognised his name as someone Martin and Folly had an unpleasant encounter with, and we decided that negotiation was not an option."
"Jerod is quite an artist, you know. A comet and an earthquake with poisonous gas. Although the color was rather cliche. This Klybesian monastery is no more. "
"But, the monks seem to have fled along an underground shadow path, and they have taken samples from Reid's body."
Random takes the body by the shoulders and pulls it through. As Ossian speaks, Random is dressing, eventually pulling on and buttoning the kind of doublet he favors in the Castle. "Now I'll be able to say I've been found with a dead body in bed." He straightens Reid's corpse, looking at it intensely.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him, but not sure-sure. It could be a shadow, designed to trick us. We'll take a careful look at it." He shakes his head.
"Ok, and these monks are rapidly moving up the 'things that annoy Random' list. They're not number one with a bullet, yet, but we need to rattle their cage. Get everything useful out of there and then destroy it. Jerod doesn't have to send a chemical rain down to salt the earth within a ten mile radius, as a warning to others, but it would be, as you say, 'artistic'. Too bad Reid isn't around to interrogate the prisoners. He was disturbingly good at that."
Random looks downwards, presumably at the body of his older nephew. "Thanks for bringing him back. Nobody deserves to be buried in his enemy's graveyard."
Ossian nods. "Plunder, then destroy. Should we check where the Shadowpath leads?"
Random nods. "Right, don't get the order backwards. Can you do the shadowpath thing without the others? They were on a different mission for me before I attached them to you. I'd rather just send you, because then you can make a sketch of it and we can visit it at our leisure." He looks down. "Man, Reid. I sorta thought you were immortal."
"Ok. I will send them to you when we are finished here then." Ossian ends the contact and turns to his cousins:
"The King wants us to collect whatever evidence we can get. And those monks outside. And then destroy this place. I will follow the Shadow path, and you should report back."
He takes the sketch of Reid, and carefully stores it between two pages in his sketch book.
"Then I suggest we get started." Jerod says, "...starting with the remaining monk. Been enough time that he might have woken up. We might want to collect him if he hasn't, before he decides to wander off. Then we can tear this place apart."
Raven nods. "Aye, sounds good." She heads for the door.
"I'll start down the path immedeately. I don't want the ceiling to come down on my head." Ossian says with a grin. "Good luck, cousins. And thanks for the help."
Ossian heads towards the Shadow path.
Last modified: 28 June 2014