Reality and Rule (Inactive)

Game Master Viscount K

Amber.

And now she calls her children home.

A year had passed in Amber since the First Call went out.

The ruler of Amber in this age, King Random the First, sent his agents throughout Shadow to find the wayward children of Amber and bid them to come to her aid. Throughout the infinity of Shadow they went, hunting for those few pillars of reality that brought the shade planes into focus.

Some were found in mere days, others weeks or months, and very likely many more escaped the scout's notice entirely, but they came. One by one, the sons and daughters of Amber returned to the fold, and each of them brought with them their singular talents and knowledge. Each of them, another sliver of the puzzle that was Shadow, and each of them another soldier in the war that none of them yet knew was coming.

Random met them all as they arrived, surveying his family and his subjects alike, and his heart was warmed. Once, the King had been a carefree soul, though a gadabout with little importance in the grand scheme; and those who thought so had been right. Since the Unicorn had chosen him to wear the crown, though, Random had proven them all wrong, proving a just, fair, and powerful leader worthy to succeed great Oberon. He would be the first to admit, however, that the crown was a burden he would gladly set down.

Today, though, that burden seemed to sit a little lighter on his brow, as for the first time in known memory, a Council of Amber was to meet. All the members of the royal family that could be found, nobles and representatives from across the Golden Circle, all sitting around one table to discuss the fate of the realm.

"One way or another," he thought, "this will be a day to remember."

Chaney had been among the first to return, for, although he had been away for some time, his whereabouts had been no secret. No longer a rebellious youth, the man he had grown to be was ready for some heavy burdens of his own. His martial prowess had impressed even the King. In this light, it was only natural that Random should assign him a post close to Amber.

Chaney had no love of the sea, and a few choice insults of his youth still soured the Queen's opinion of him, making his staying in the Castle overlong a burden on them both. King Random decided on a course to satisfy them both and provide a safe border for Amber; he would place Chaney as Warden of Arden, a post not long ago abandoned by the King's brother Julian.

Chaney agreed to the post, in equal parts to escape the confines of the castle and to provide safety to those within. He set to the task before him with great urgency and pride, quickly gaining the respect and admiration of the Great Forest's soldiers. He found areas to reinforce, and began making some changes in protocol based on his struggles in the Demon Wars and other Shadow battles. These efforts filled the time it took for the others to arrive for the council.

-------------------

Chaney brushed the dust off of his cloak before laying it on the chest at the end of his bed. He had been hoping to meet more of his cousins before the council proper, but his duties in Arden had taken too much of his attention. Still, there was at least one encounter on the road through Arden likely to be remembered for some time to come.

As he dressed, he extinguished such thoughts. "The red one." he slipped the shirt on, tucking it neatly into his black trousers. Over this he pulled a black leather vest. The boots he wore were of a solid, military style, and were designed for maximum traction and protection against the elements. They had been polished to a smart shine. He considered his sword for a moment. "No. This is to be a meeting of friendship and greetings. Nothing that cannot be hidden. So," he turned towards an assortment of smaller blades, "this, the silvered, and ... the throwing daggers." He strapped the smaller blades in secure and secreted places under his garments and then took the time to smooth out the lines.

Chaney examined himself in the mirror, flipping a butterfly razor from the table into his hand. A small amount of stubble had formed, giving him an evening shadow. He made quick work of it with the razor. "Hate to be untidy." So readied, he placed a cap on his head. It was a stylized military cap with a demon soldier badge and a bright red feather. He nodded, and, after securing his chambers in the usual manner, walked into the hall.

Standing outside behind his open car door, the dark haired man in the plain black suit and dark glasses called out, “Mr. Reynard, I understand your reluctance to surrender after your previous dealings with what passes for law enforcement in this town, but I am a Federal agent and I’m telling you, you will be treated fairly.”
“It weren’t m’ boy’s fault. When t’ moon takes ya fer t’ furst time, ya cain’t be held accou’table fer a ded chicken or ten. It ain’t ri’t, I tell ya.”, yelled the slight red-haired man standing in front of the school, double-barrel held tightly in both hands.
“Yes, sir, I agree. The problem has been dealt with. There will be no more trouble from the Purdue’s. But you cannot continue to hold the teacher and the classroom hostage to protect your son. This is over.”
The man suddenly turned, eyes sweeping the sky, as a brown and silver hawk (?) or something like it plunges from the sky. The silver rings on his hand flashed as he raised his arm and the bird settled on it. He unrolled the message from around its leg, stroking its feathers briefly before sending it towards the sky.
He read the thin strip quickly. “That’s it we’re done.”
Taking the glasses off first, he walks to the trunk. From it he takes a bag, opening it before he begins to remove the suit. He folds the dark garments carefully and pulls another outfit from the bag. He dons the brown leather (?) vest and pants, showing no modesty as he strips and dresses.
“Reynard, you’re going to put the gun away and take your kid home now. There are no charges from the other night’s misadventure. I’ve got no more time for this garbage. You’ve been no trouble for anyone for years and I’m sure your boy won’t be either.” He looks at him sharply, “This. Never. Happened.”
He writes a quick note and sticks it in the door pocket before gently closing the door. His hand brushes the car much like he stroked the hawk.
“I’ll miss you, buddy. Take my resignation back to the gang. I’ve been called home. If I’m ever around here again, I’ll drop by.”
As the car turns and drives away, James draws a deck of cards from his vest. Focusing on one, he concentrates, begins to fade, and finally disappears, his afterimage a fading rainbow flash.
Well, It was fun while it lasted.

Roy was sitting in the Sheriff's office when the time finally came. His dusty boots were set on the floor next to his chair, his feet propped up on the desk. His duster and hat were currently hanging from the cloakstand near the entrance of the building, and the man himself was leaning back in the wooden seat, trying his best to make it through another day of paperwork. When he'd been offered a job with Amber's sheriff, he'd taken it in hopes of reliving his days from the Shadow of Deadlands, riding out and bringing in criminals, gunning down those too dangerous for trial and hogtying the ones who needed to face more "civil" justice. Even working more like a private detective would have been fine.

But the damn paperwork! That was a fresh Hell Roy wasn't ready for, and the fact he spent half his time at least in administrative work had ground on him over the past few months. He wasn't even the actual Sheriff, just a deputy of sorts, but with the Sheriff himself away--presumably on business, which meant off in a Shadow--the gunslinger had found himself the only one to pick up the slack.

Still, it seemed things were changing. Roy wasn't privy to all the information, but everyone knew that more and more of the sons and daughters of the city were returning. They'd come a few at a time, for the most part, one or two every now and again, but the fact remained that many of Roy's cousins were coming back. And for Roy, although that suggested bigger things to come, the most important thing to him was that the old Sheriff would probably come back soon, and maybe then Roy could actually get out there and shoot some damn criminals instead of just writing about it.

A young man, dark of hair and skin wearing loose fitting black clothing with red and turquoise patterns, sat cross-legged on the floor with hands on his knees breathing slowly. The room itself contains nothing more than small bed with a backpack at its foot. The mans eyes open revealing haunted jet black irises. He smoothly rises, and exits the room locking it behind him.

In short order, the man walks down the stairs into common room of The Viridian Rose. There are a few patrons already down for breakfast, so the staff is bustling about. After he sat with his back to the wall and near the kitchen door, the waitress goes and gets the innkeeper who reluctantly approaches the young man.

"Any messages for me?" asked the young man in a neutral tone.

For a moment the innkeeper is frozen in place by the younger mans dark gaze "Y-yes m'lord, you got a message from the castle." the innkeeper nervously answers.

"Just Eztil is fine..." he waves one of his hands in the air cutting off the frightened innkeeper "... no matter. My message?"
The innkeeper passes over a letter closed with wax bearing the Great Seal of the Realm. Eztil opens it and after reading a moment smiles then stands causing the innkeeper to step back a moment.

"I will be back later today." He turns and walks to the door, looks around outside, then exits the building somehow leaving the common room seeming brighter than before.

'Weeks since I got off that ship and finally my request was granted to look at the roll of the peerage to see if I can find the Drachenburg family.' He looks up at the castle looming over the city. 'The vision guided me true and you were right mother, all roads do lead to Amber. Some just take longer than others.'

After a bit of a walk, Eztil arrives at Castle Amber. The gate guards' grips on their weapons unconsciously tighten as he approached though the most dangerous thing on him is a simple dagger with a bone white hilt.

"I've been granted an audience with the chamberlain." He holds out the letter for one of the guards.

Inside his private quarters, James checked his mail. It was the usual mix of formal invitations, out-of-date secrets, and cards left by visitors he hadn’t been around to greet. One invitation stood out though. Evidently Belferran had finally wised up and taken the retirement his wifes' had been demanding.

I wonder who Random stuck with acting Sheriff since he didn’t recall me. I hope he didn’t replace me entirely; I could use some quiet paperwork after the last couple of years. Unlikely as that is if he had to send a full recall to all. Oh well, at least there should be some new faces.

He checked in the mirror, nodded at his reflection (thankfully back in the proper colors after a steady uniform of black), and left for the Palace.

Nikolas leaned against the rail of The Selkie. Its maiden trials were going well. Thirty feet shorter than a typical three-masted dreadnaught, it was almost 20% faster than the ridiculously, almost traitorously, outdated vessels left by Caine and Gerard. The shipwrights worked their hands to stumps to get the prototype into production, but the results were impressive. The ship danced around its bulkier peers and the wargames proved that its speed and dexterity more than made up for the slight decrease in firepower.

He glanced toward the coast and smirked at the first few trees of the Arden. Julian had finally been supplanted. A cousin, new, Chance or Chauncy or something, had taken the reins of the wood. Good riddance to it to him. Nikolas made clear his contempt for the forest centuries ago, back when Corwin was lost and Oberon was the king. He loved the sea. And with the elders abandoning their traditional posts under King Random, (Nikolas still had trouble wrapping his brain around the oxymoronic pair of words.) he reiterated his distaste for the trees and took on the Northern seas. The Southern still awaited new family management, so Nikolas was sharing his designs and advice with Viscount DeMorice until a cousin met Random’s weird requirements.

It had been a busy, but boring eighteen months since his return. Mist called to him, but new responsibilities held him close to Amber. No monsters to defeat, but building a new fleet was a challenge of a different sort. The true monsters were likely to be the cousins Random was foolishly dragging in from shadow. A more disparate crew couldn’t have been crafted on purpose. They have been arriving in dribs and drabs over the past year for a conference. Oberon never ruled by committee. Still, new players meant the game would change in interesting ways.

”Heh, So begins the story of Nikolas and the Third Generation.” Nikolas stood and walked back to his cabin. The conference began in just a few days. He should make himself known in court so that the new arrivals could arrange to accidently run into him and size him up. It would be rude to deprive them of the opportunity. I hope they have not spent so much time in shadow that they believe they are superior to everyone they meet here. For now, we meet as equals. It will take many moves yet to determine who truly is greater.

If no one wishes to interact before the conference . . .

Nikolas stepped into the hall and plucked an hors d'oeuvre from a passing tray – olives stuffed with a pleasant, though mild, Begman cheese. Random held the purpose of the meeting close to his vest, so he dressed for any possibility. A blousy green suit with silver trim and belt covered the man from neck to knees. His forearms and calves remained bare, but his hands were clothed in red leather gloves and his feet in thin red-lined sandals. A heavy cloak, also of green, draped over his shoulders, hemmed in further crimson. The clothes were well made, but plain with no patterns. The hood of his cloak was pulled back, revealing sun-bleached blond hair surrounding dark, almost black skin. One eye of brilliant green contrasted with one of eerie red. In his hand Godsblood rested lightly, the crimson stain of Julian’s blood still resting on the tip of the spear. A capped cylindrical case, not unlike a quiver, was clasped to his back, and metallic chain pouches lined with red felt hung from his belt.

Nikolas spoke a few mild pleasantries to the lesser nobles in attendance, but his attention rarely strayed from the Cousins.

The new warden of Arden displayed his military traditions on his sleeve . . . and his boots . . . and his hat, everywhere really. He clearly wished all attending to see his soldierly bent.

The two rustic men in various shades of brown resembled the cleaned-up lawmen that they were. Both served as Sheriff in the past. I wonder which will end up with the job now. Random has yet to announce the post officially. If both still desire the honor, the conference may be more interesting than Nikolas first assumed.

It was early yet, only the four of them. Rumor spoke of at least two more. It was worrying; nothing good ever seemed to come when the family gathered in great numbers.

Looking up a the castle Eztil remembers how he arrived here...

Night shrouds the Amber port in darkness. The sound of the waves mixes with the laughter from nearby bars. A hand thrusts up from the water near a pylon and a naked man begins climbing up onto the dock. For a time he rests before climbing to his feet and shambling toward the distant lights.

"Well, well lads what do we have here?" men step out of an alley between warehouses to block the mans passage.

"Seems like someone had a bit too much to drink and went for a swim." there is rough laughter then one of them notices something around the sodden man's neck glinting in the light and mutters "a fine bit of sparkle around his neck though"

The leader looks back at his lads and smiles "Well me and the boys will be taking that necklace of yours ..." whatever he was going to say is cut off as the bedraggled man looks up through his hair.

"No I think not."

-----
The town guard was near The Crusty Barnacle when he heard the screams and immediately he ran in their direction pulling out his truncheon. When he arrived at the warehouses, he heard boxes falling in an alley and slowly approached to investigate. In the shadows could be seen several bodies lying on the ground while someone crouched over them with a cloak billowing out behind them

"Alright now stand slowly and hands in the air!" The guard raises his lantern and nearly drops it with a gasp as it reveals the alley has been painted in blood.

A naked man stands up covered from head to toe in blood and drops a cloak he was pulling off of a corpse. He raises his hands slowly.

"They tried to rob me..." The man peers at the uniform "officer"

Eventually the guards let Eztil go as those that accosted him were a known gang of robbers.

-----

James checked in at the mirror, nodded at his reflection (thankfully back in the proper colors after a steady uniform of black), and left for the Palace. As was his habit, he Trumped directly to his rooms there and then stopped by the nearest stationed guard to let them know he was in. Family etiquette required each to announce their presence to the Guard if the regular doors were not used, to prevent any 'mistakes'.

Looking relieved, the guard said, "Sir, I'm glad you're here. We have a 'disturbance', a, a 'special guest', you could say, at the front gate that may require a Family member."

"Very well, I'll walk by. As back up, of course."

Turning back to the guard, "And let His Majesty know I've returned."

"We have seen him before sir, claimed to be a shipwreck survivor. Ran into a bit of trouble with one of the former gangs on the wharf."

The Raven sailed smartly into the great harbor of Amber, anchoring in the merchant section. Marjana stood at the rail in common sailor's dress, drinking in the sight of the city. "One visit, close to two hundred years ago, and she still haunts my dreams."

Once again, she wondered if this was wise. The treachery of Amber's Royal Family to its kin was legendary. Still, rumor had spread throughout the Golden Circle of the King seeking to bring all the family home. There would never be a better time and if she wasn't ready to face them now, when would she be?

Nevertheless, some caution was needed, for the crew at least. No need for them to stick their heads all the way into the noose. "Captain, as we discussed. No shore leave. Be ready to fight your way out on a moment's notice, if need be. If I'm not back by dusk, run for it. Wait off of Cabra, if there's no pursuit. I'll come if I can. Otherwise, lose yourself. Amber's fleet can't catch the Raven and there are worlds to hide in." She takes an oar in the longboat, just one more sailor rowing the captain ashore on business.

Some hours later, a very different figure presents herself at the Castle gates. Clad in formal purple and gold with Icefang at her side, she announces herself to the guards as the "Lady Marjana, returned in answer to the King's summons".

From there, she'll either browbeat her way past the guards or work her way up the chain until she comes to the attention of someone in the Family.

"Former gang or former period?"

The guard nods twice.

"I see."

James walks quickly to where the visitor, dressed in his colors, waits with the guards at alert.

Hmm, There's something about this one, something either dark or, more likely, familiar.

"Pardon all, perhaps I can help?"

"Sir, you await entrance? Have you been summoned on this day?"

The senior guard shows the invitation bearing the Seal.
Seeing only the Seal and making a quick assumption, James speaks, "Well, Cousin, if I may call you that, come with me."

He turns, with the expectation that the man will want to speak privately, and misses the guards' reaction to 'Cousin'.

With a sigh, Roy tossed the paperwork back onto the desk. He rubbed his eyes and stood, cracking his back and popping his knuckles as he stretched. The day had worn on long enough, and he needed a break from just writing about things instead of doing them. Maybe I'll take a swing around the streets, see if anything's going on. He glanced into the mirror, wanting to see if the stagnation of the day so far had gotten to him. Stubble was tracked across his jaw, not quite caught up to his goatee in length, but other than that he looked fine: plain off-white shirt, brown trousers, riding boots, and his gunbelt slung low from waist to thigh, bearing his trusty revolver.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Roy turned to see a guard standing there. "Yessir, can I help you?"

"It's about time for the meeting, Milord," the guard said, bowing slightly. Roy rolled his eyes and strode forward, grabbing his duster from its hook. With a fluid swing, he slipped it on, its comfortable weight already making him feel better. Grabbing his hat, he leaned down as though to check that his boots were on securely. The movement also allowed him to double-check that the knife he kept tucked in each of them was still there, ready to draw if trouble started. Seeing they were fine, he stood again and stepped outside, glad to take in the air and sun.

"About damn time," he said. With that, he lit a cigarillo and strode off through the streets, making his way to the gathering of his family.

The Council of Amber was finally coming to order. They gathered in the hall, some with full entourages, others standing aloof, and all of them people of notable prestige and considerable power. Each new arrival was announced to the room, each new name and title another indication of the importance of this conference and its attendees. Yet even among this crowd, there were some who commanded instant attention - The Royal Family of Amber. Descendants of Oberon, masters of the Pattern, Shadow walkers, all of them figures of such raw presence that their very existence presence resonated throughout Shadow to create other legends. Every time a new Prince or Princess was announced, an ominous stir ran through the room, and nearly everyone there turned to give the new arrival their due appraisal.

Random, King of Amber and steward of the Jewel of Judgment, waited near his chair at the great oval table's head, greeting new arrivals as they were brought to him. Seated silently in his place at the King's left hand the great Master of Arms, Benedict of the Silver Arm, kept an impassive gaze sweeping the room, ever watchful. At the King's right there stood a conspicuously empty chair, draped with black trimmed in silver and styled in the center with a silver rose.

Other living legends walked the room, of course. Julian waited sullenly in the shadows by the pillars along the chamber's sides, eyeing the empty chair by the King with resentment. Hulking Gerard stood ensconced near the table of food, offering earnest platitudes to whoever inquired. In a corner, Merlin and Fiona watched the room with equal knowing smirks, exchanging quips and observations. Llewella stood with the contingent from Rebma, pointedly ignoring her siblings to a degree that made her attention obvious. Caine sat in his chair a few spaces down from the King, a bemused expression on his pirate's face. Florimel hovered near Benedict and Gerard at turns, her nervous gaze flitting back and forth.

Yet they were not the only true children of Amber. Others were announced as well; some already known to the court, some only making their arrival now, but all would get their chance to prove their mettle before the day was out.

James entered the hall outside the Council Hall, nodding to the guards.

As he approached the herald outside the doors, he said, "Sir, if it be time, would you announce me- in full formal 'James, son of Cullum Beowulf of Shadow and Deirdre, Princess of Amber, Duke of Faiella-bionin, made Knight of the Stair and Gentleman of her Court by Moire, Queen of Rebma, and Sheriff to the city of Amber' and announce this man as 'Eztil-tlatia-teotl, Nahualli of the House of Razors, once Varick von der Drachenburg'."

He looks down the hall and smiles, "Hold on that for a minute, I believe I must ask this gentleman first."

"Sir," he says to the approaching Family-member, "We have not met, though I believe our paths have crossed. You are Roy MacArran, are you not? I am James, and I have heard that Random has had you at the post of Sheriff. Would you be announced so as we enter?"

Roy arrived at the gates to catch a pair of guards talking about some apparent trouble. Family troubles can't have already started, can they? Roy pushed the thought to the side, knowing that there was little he could do about it. He hadn't been in the city long, but everyone knew about the dysfunctions of the extended ruling family.

When he asked, though, Roy learned that the man who'd arrived in town and caused trouble at the docks--the man who'd given Roy more files to fill--had arrived, apparently seeking audience. Roy sighed and told the guards to carry on, stepping inside himself and making his way toward the meeting.

Outside, he caught what looked like the man in question, along with another who seemed vaguely familiar. Roy knelt to the ground and put out his cigarillo on his boot, then stood to approach the pair. As the familiar one spoke, he nodded. "Yep, Roy MacArran, acting Sheriff at your service. I'll probably go by Roy, Sorrow of the West, Prince of Amber and Acting Sheriff. Leastwise that's what it says on my stationery." He tipped his hat to the herald. "You can just say that, if you'd be so kind."

Turning back to James, Roy rubbed his jaw and looked him up and down. "Beg pardon, but do I know you? I think we met somewhere once. Hopefully on the right side of the law." The gunslinger gave a wry smile, clearly jesting.

Eztil gives Roy a short bow "We have met before but I was not so well dressed or clean. Some of your wharf rats tried to rob me after I finally made it to shore following the Snap Dragon's sinking. I was maybe a little exuberant in defending myself."

He was splattered from head to toe in their blood and was wearing only the cloak from one of the dead. His only other possession was a rather large necklace of gold and turquoise. When asked how he dispatched of the gang in such a bloody fashion, his answer was simply "Sorcery".

"The judge released me the next day after reviewing the gangs increasingly violent history."

Peering into the council room and it is clear this isn't a simple meeting "To be honest, I don't know why I was invited to this meeting. At best I thought I'd speak with the chamberlain and then review the list of peers to see if I could find any mention of my family."

"Roy, I'm James. If the right side of the law is behind the desk, though I sometimes wish it were the other way. It's always so much simpler to break the law than enforce it."

"Has Random made you Sheriff? It was the office I held before I left, but it's his office to bestow. We should probably let this gentleman know before he explodes, trying to decide which to offend or how to announce both of us as Sheriff."

James looks sideways at the herald as he backs away from the group of them. "Ease yourself, man. There'l be no duels here today. My cousin and I are just talking."

'Roy, this man is Eztil. Random has answered his request to learn about his family by inviting him to the council. I'm guessing his questions will receive some answers before it's over."

Roy nodded in return. "Thought you were that fella. Those boys'd been causing trouble for some time, I just hadn't nailed 'em yet myself. Only thing I grudge you for in that incident is the paperwork saying what happened and that it was okay in the end." He sighed and patted a pocket. Was there time for another cigarillo? "As for an invitation here, I'd assume it's cause you're family, some way or other. From my limited understanding that's what this is all about, getting the relations together."

The lawman sighed again and decided against the cigar. They might be entering soon, and while there was nothing necessarily against the things, they weren't too common around here. And Roy knew they marked him as an outsider, in some ways even more obviously than his dress or the gun on his hip. "As for Sheriff, I'm only acting. And you better believe I'm giving that sh*t back to you." Roy grinned at James and folded his arms. "I'm more than happy to work for the department, but it's high time I got out there and did 'stead of sitting at a desk all day. Maybe I'd've got to those boys on the wharf before our friend here." He paused to tip his hat to Eztil. "Not that you didn't do a fine job yourself."

Turning back to James, Roy decided to meet himself halfway. He pulled out his case, took another cigarillo, and stuck it in his teeth, planning to just chew the sweet tobacco and paper rather than light it up. The gunslinger did hold the case out to the others, though--including the herald--in a silent offer. "As for titles, how's about I'm acting Sheriff, and we find out just what Random's figuring to do about the situation as soon as we can. Sound good?"

"I am not, to my knowledge, a relative. Possible though. My parents did travel through shadow and said I would be presented here as one of the peerage but nobody has heard of the von der Drachenburg's"

He smiles when Roy mentions there were no hard feelings "Good, they picked the wrong day and person for extortion. I understand my actions were somewhat extreme for Amber, but I did offer to pay a blood price to their family after I sold my necklace."

"I can't say I blame you about the Sheriff position, I'd not like such a job myself."

James looks at the herald, "Go ahead and announce us that way, would you? Him first, then me, then Eztil. I want to watch and see if anyone reacts to 'von der Drachenburg'."

"Roy, most of the paperwork was for Belferran to keep me appraised so I could get caught up when I got back.
Since Random is Mayor and King and he doesn't like paperwork any more than you do, we just need to keep him briefed and avoid surprising him.
Now Belferran, he liked doing files on everything and making forms to be filled in. I think mostly to get a break from his wives- three wives is entirely too many."

"Three?" Roy stared at James, the cigar barely staying in his open mouth. "Hell, no wonder the man likes to lose himself in the files. I can barely imagine one." The man shook his head and pointed the cigar at the other Sheriff. "That's some fine thinking, though, looking out for clues on this Drachenburg thing. Maybe an assumed name?" He shrugged and clamped down on the tobacco, savoring its sweet flavor as he waited to enter.

"I've known people with dozens of concubines, but not multiple wives." he pauses "There is a difference in rights and responsibilities."

Turning to Roy he shrugs "The name could have been assumed but it is the only one we went by until I was sixteen. The town and castle both got their name because the family lived there. Still my parents did travel, often without me."

"I too would like to see if there is any reaction from the name." he adds nodding to James.

The herald cleared his throat, then boomed, "Roy, Sorrow of the West, Prince of Amber and Acting Sheriff of Amber."

"James, son of Cullum Beowulf of Shadow and Deirdre, Princess of Amber, Duke of Faiella-bionin, Knight of the Stair and Gentleman of the Court of Rebma, and Sheriff to the city of Amber."

"Eztil-tala (cough) tlatia-teotl, Nahualli of the House of Razors, once Varick von der Drachenburg."

The three paused at the wide doors, surveying the room, before entering.

James led Eztil into the room, nodded fondly toward Llewella, before bowing deeply to King Ramdom of Amber.

"I must take a moment and greet Aunt Llewella and those of Rebma. Then, I think wine will be required.'

The room stirred, council members and their guests all murmuring. The Sheriff and deputy, announced in tandem with an unknown? Interesting, the room seemed to say.

Llewella eyed James coldly for a moment, then acknowledged his nod with a slight tilt of her neck. In full Rebman regalia, she was clearly not in the best of moods.

Throughout the chamber, most of the cliques remained stable, a few member shifting back and forth as conversations shifted. Clearly, though, attention in the room had shifted slightly to see what the newly arrived Princes would do.

Chaney arrived shortly after the trio, brushing a strand of unruly hair off his vest, and addressed the herald, "Now, what was the order of formality mother tried to browbeat into me those decades ago? Ah, yes, 'Chaney Barimen, of the House of Dybele, son of Florimel of Amber and John Gaunt of Cynosure, Duke of Eachester, Lord Protector of Cynosure, and Warden of Arden.' That ought to do well enough."

The herald nodded, announcing Chaney as he had directed. Chaney entered, sweeping the room with a smart, appraising gaze. He made eye contact with his mother, but chose to approach the King instead. Understanding the protocol, he awaited the King's attention with a stiff military bearing to his stand.

Eventually, after even Marjana's patience begins to wear thin pacing circles inthe waiting room, the steward returns and escorts her to the hall.

The herald announces "The Lady Marjana of Amber and Alhambra" and she sweeps into the room, ignoring the curious glances as she approached the table's head, bowing to Random and waiting for acknowledgement.

There were several attendees waiting patiently for their turn to speak with King Random, but at the Warden's arrival, he waved them aside. He beckoned Chaney forward, an easy smile on his face. "Chaney. Good to see you here. I'd thought your duties in Arden might keep you away today." Benedict nodded in agreement, his gaze elsewhere.

As Marjana boldly made her way up, the King eyed her curiously for a moment. "Milady...Marjana, was it? I don't believe we have had the pleasure, yet."

A few yards away, Caine stood up from his chair with a casual air, moving over to the table where Gerard still stood, taking up a plate of tidbits and beginning a conversation. Gerard blinked, seeming surprised, and threw a glance over at the newcomers, then turned back to his brother and replied. Caine rolled his eyes, but continued the back and forth.

Eztil looks around the room curiously then says in an even tone.

"Many of these faces I know from tales and the portraits in Castle Dracenberg. Random, I didn't know he was king so did not connect the two. General Benedict, Gerard the Mighty, Sorceress Fiona, Lewella who dwells beneath the sea, Admiral Caine, and the lovely Florimel. It is clear now, that many of the fairy tales I was told as a child were about this place."

He helps himself to a drink "Maybe I'm in the right place after all... but I do not see my parents or anyone I knew in person."

"Your Majesty, the pleasure and the honor are mine." She bowed again as he greeted her.
"I only regret I did not arrive earlier, but I've been travelling and I'm afraid your messenger didn't catch up with me until I returned to the Golden Circle and heard of the summons. "

"Perhaps there will be a less public moment later to discuss my family connection, but I am at your service, regardless."

Chaney returned the smile, but only out of duty as nephew. He nodded, responding "I assure you, Your Majesty, I have able men in place on the watch. This sort of gathering is... unusual... these days, and I wouldn't receive whatever purpose the conference is being held for second hand, especially if Arden needs to react." His eyes scanned the room, and, seeing others awaiting the King's attention, he wrapped up with "As always, the forces of Arden are at your disposal." and made a short bow, moving to the other side of the room.

His eyes flickered momentarily towards his mother, but diverted themselves before she could make eye contact with him.

Roy bowed to King Random, but otherwise he contented himself to wait until more of the purposes behind this meeting were made clear. Helping himself to some food and drink, he looked to Eztil and shrugged. "Sounds to me more and more like you've got a family reunion on your hands. Same thing happened to me, actually. Out there in Shadow, I mean."

The acting sheriff pulled the cigar from his mouth and stuck it in his pocket, then popped a morsel in his mouth and chewed. "Family castle back in Scotland, on the books as my great-great-grand-pappy's. Course that wasn't quite true, but it was in the family, and it did lead me here eventually, so all's well that ends well, right?" He swallowed and gave the sorcerer another smile.

Random let Chaney go, returning his bow with a tilt of his head, and raised an eyebrow to Marjana. "Family connection, is it? Hm." Looking her up and down briefly, he nods. "Can't say I'm terribly surprised to hear that; but as you say, perhaps another moment might be better to discuss this further."

He straightened up and his voice raised slightly, turning more formal. "Amber is pleased to accept your service, Lady Marjana. You are welcome in her embrace."

The crowd stirred again at the King's formal acknowledgement of the newcomer. Some in the throng eyed Marjana more thoroughly. Whatever anonymity she may have possessed, it was surely gone now.

Marjana looks momentarily surprised by his first words, but bows and steps back , moving aside to let others approach.

Taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, she finds a spot outside of the main traffic lanes and watches the crowd, waiting to either be approached or for a sign that the actual Council was going to begin.

"Sounds to me more and more like you've got a family reunion on your hands. Same thing happened to me, actually. Out there in Shadow, I mean."

Looking around at all the familiar faces "I certainly was coached to know many of these people, and some that are not. Combined with being told I'd be presented as a peer, being at least distantly related to the ruling family does seem likely."

"Family castle back in Scotland, on the books as my great-great-grand-pappy's. Course that wasn't quite true, but it was in the family, and it did lead me here eventually, so all's well that ends well, right?" He swallowed and gave the sorcerer another smile.

Eztil returns the smile but it is somewhat shadowed "Not all paths to a good ending are pleasant but they can make one stronger for the journey. The biggest question for me now, is who arranged for me to be here?"

He sips his drink and watches the other guests for sign they are interested in him or wish to speak with him. Should they be half as skilled at the game as my parents, it is unlikely I'll know of their interest unless they wish it.

From somewhere just outside the chamber, there was the tone of a great bell. The sound reverberated through the hall, cutting through the chatter and signalling to all it was time to formally begin the conference. Attendants emerged to show the people to their seats.

It seemed seats had been pre-arranged, set in loose factions, often signified by the personal sigils rendered in cloth heraldry draped across the high-backed chairs. The group from the lush southern Golden Circle, dressed in their loose and flowing robes, took their place with some quiet discussion amongst themselves. Their counterparts from the harsher north sat across from them with a burst of boisterous laughter, their furs and leathers somewhat out of place in the grand surroundings of the palace.

Also present was a contingent from Rebma, although Queen Moire herself had not come all the way from her undersea kingdom. In her stead, Llewella sat at the center of their group, her proud bearing belied by the deep sadness in her eyes.

There were several empty chairs as well, each marked by the symbols and colors laid across them. Many were set for powers too great too ignore but were unlikely to attend, such as the half dozen chairs set directly across from Random for the Lords of Chaos, or the black and silver rose at the King's right, or the chair draped with a golden stair set precisely in the middle.

The largest contingent was made up of the Lords and Ladies of Amber, and at their head sat the King. Nobles from across the city and its lands could be found, ahead of them only the royal family itself...and a few others. Placed together near the children of Oberon was a small but conspicuous group. The Lady Marjana, Roy MacArran, Chaney Grimson, Eztil-tlatia-totl, and James of Faiella-Bionin found themselves seated together. There had been murmurings before, but now there was a distinct sharpness to those noises as the small group found themselves subjected to sharp scrutiny.

Roy took his seat amongst the others, only shrugging slightly as he found himself placed with some of those he'd just met. The Warden and Sheriff being seated near one another didn't surprise him, and he didn't know enough of the new woman to pass judgment, but he'd learned over the years not to wonder too much about happenstance like this. No reason to suspect a conspiracy--well, no more than ever--just yet.

The murmurs of the others gathered, directed their way, though: that was of interest. The gunslinger placed another bit of food on his tongue, savoring the flavor, and turned his head slightly to whisper towards the others. "I got ink on my face or something? Did somebody do something here, or is this just what it's like to be the subject of open gossip?"

Marjana chuckles. "Welcome to court. I guess they're all the same. Still, I suspect it's more me they're interested in. Unless you're all as new here as I am?"

"Anyways, I'm Marjana, as you probably all heard. I think I arrived after the rest of you, so I missed the announcements..."

"Chaney." the Warden of Arden bowed deeply as Majana introduced herself. "And the murmuring likely has to do with how closely we are seated... If I recall my early lessons, such a place of honor is reserved for family members, which I gather, would be news in at least one of our cases." he nodded, indicating Etzil. He subjected those lesser gossipers then with a disapproving eye, as if challenging them for questioning the crown's judgement.

Eztil looks at the chair reserved for him curiously for a while before bowing to those he had not met yet "Eztil, pleasure to meet you all. My seating here does come as a surprise Chaney. Once, many years ago, I was a noble and someone must believe I belong to this house"

He gestures with a hand to the gathering "By far the most pleasant gathering I've been to since those days."

James leaned towards Roy and Chaney, "What's with the look on Llewella? She's usually more reserved in public. Has something happened?"

Roy tipped his hat back as he looked at Marjana, then with a frown, he removed the leather headpiece and placed it on the table before him. "Can't say I've been in the city for too long, although I've spent some time here. Haven't been to court before, though." He popped another tidbit into his mouth and grinned. "Think I heard tell of I'm too 'uncivilized' for most dinners."

He swallowed and extended a hand toward Marjana. "Roy MacArran, Lady Marjana. Acting Sheriff, although I'm hoping that changes soon. At your service, except when I'm not."

Looking to James, Roy frowned and glanced at Llewella. "Haven't heard anything, but then, I've been logging back work lately. Not really my realm of concern, you know?"

Chaney let a slight smile creep over his lips. "My spies haven't informed me of any news from Rebma. Not that I have spies there."he intoned dryly.

Random stood, raising his hand for silence, and the crowd slowly hushed. For a moment, the ruler of Amber looked out across the great oval table, observing all those who had come from across the far reaches of reality to answer his call. His face betrayed several different emotions; pride, relief, satisfaction, and perhaps...perhaps a hint of fear.

His voice rose. "Ladies and gentlemen, Amber thanks you for your presence this day. We bid you all welcome, but if you will forgive us, we will not stand on ceremony today."

He gestured to the walls around them. "We stand today in the heart of Substance, one of the foundations for creation as we know it. But the modern Age is different."

He pointed to the empty chair at the other end of the hall, where the multicolored banner of Chaos rested. "We know now of our brothers in the Courts; and make no mistake," he continued, raising his voice over the sudden murmurs, "They are our brothers. We are not alike in many ways, but over the years since the Patternfall, we have come to know one another. Since those times, there has grown, if not exactly an alliance, at least a mutual respect between our peoples."

"But this is not news to most of you." His face grew grim. "What may be is this - the road to Chaos is gone."

He allowed the room a moment to hear that information. "Yes. The Black Road, the line that led to the Courts and our only landmark on the way to that other end of Reality, has vanished. And what does this mean for the allies of Amber?"

Looking around, he said, "Reality is missing once of its anchors. We know that some of you have seen it; the way to Amber, the established paths through Shadow, they have become difficult to travel. Every day, Shadow itself becomes stranger, more difficult to pass and more inhospitable to those who try. Indeed, today's meeting may not have been possible without the concerted effort of myself and the help of some others of our court."

He drew in a breath, then released it. "And we do not know why."

At the dramatic announcement from the king, Leon raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. Since he'd been in Amber, and only concerned with events inside the city, for some time now, he hadn't heard about any troubles with traveling Shadow. The man pulled the cigar back from his pocket and placed it between his teeth, champing down on the sweet tobacco.

Turning to Chaney, Roy leaned on the table. "So, Warden. Your spies not in Rebma know about this one?"

"I've heard whisperings, but it seems... the Crown... has done its best to keep this quiet until now." Chaney said grimly.

Turning towards the king, he inquired "Any reports from scouts? Is the way lost? What of Trumps?"

Quietly, as if to herself, "The trip here was difficult, but I'd thought..."

Then, to the others, "I've seen nothing of this, but I haven't been near the Black Road in a long time. It's just creepy."

Eztil watches and listens. Maybe the visions and memories that guided him here were inspired by one of the powers in this room had a hand in that for some purpose.

"I walked here through a path of blood, pain, and death. But that is the only path I have known since... "