Roland in the Keep

[Wired*Nun]

Following back to the Great Hall, Roland finds the place deserted. Guards posted in different places seem bored, and give Roland a salute. It seems they have been briefed. As Roland enteres the Great Hall, Aaron runs up and says, "Hello, Sir Roland. Can I be of assistance?" He will accompany Roland unless told to leave, or given a task.

The tapestry which radiates some Trump energy is the kitch classic, "Dogs Playing Poker."

[Shutter]

Roland enters the great hall with no pretense of stealth. He returns the guards' greetings, but does not tary on his way to his objective.

"No Aaron, I don't require anything at the moment...But I will want to meet with the captain of the guard soon, the man who I was with when I first met you. You remember? First though I'd like to see Bill, my horse." Aaron and Roland arrive at the tapestry while Roland is giving his stream of thought instructions.

Well, that's a first.

Roland regards the tapestry silently for a while. He studies it closely, trying to get a feel for the style of the artist; looking for anything about what powers this strange trumplike piece. He feels for any sense of pattern that might be there.

"Aaron, can you tell me anything about this tapestry? If not, do you know anyone who can?"

[Wired*Nun]

Aaron looks puzzled for a moment. "I am not sure who you mean, sir. I saw no one with you when I first saw you, but I can ask the Commandant if he would see you. I can take you to the stables, too, your horse is being well cared-for."

As Roland examines the tapestry, he realizes that, although there is Trump energy here, the picture is not a Trump. He's not sure what it is. The picture does not get cold or begin to activate as he looks at it. The style is pedestrian, uninspired.

"I don't know anything about that," says Aaron in response to Roland's question.

[Shutter]

Hideous thing. Why would anyone bother putting any power in it? It must be some sort of disguise, but what's the point in that when I can feel its power?

Roland turns up one corner of the tapestry, examining the wall behind it, and the reverse of the tapestry itself.

"Who first sent you to see me down in the courtyard, Aaron?"

[Wired*Nun]

"The Young Master sent me down, sir. He said you needed to be shown the way to your interview."

Underneath the tapestry, Roland finds eleven Trumps, encased in glass and set into the wall. There is an empty twelfth. It is a 3-high by 4-wide arrangement. They would not be easy to pry out of their cases. The glass is thick, but could be broken. It looks like a permanent arrangement. He does not recognize the style of the Trumps.

The Trumps along the top row seem to represent the tops of the four bastions at the corners of the keep. The three Trumps along the middle are of three other Great Halls. The four on the bottom show scenes as follows: Snow-covered rocks and a cave; a desert oasis; a rocky coast; and a mountain lodge.

These trumps are not Pattern Trumps, exactly. The do not feel like what he believes Logrus trumps would feel like; kind of like Pattern Trumps, but not quite the same.

[Shutter]

Interesting. A trump relay station throughout the keep. I wonder what the hideaways in Shadow are for? May as well assume that that's Dunstan's handiwork for the time being...The missing trump should be this room.

Roland spends a few moments studying the Trumps and memorizing their style and content. When he is satisfied he lowers the tapestry and take another circuit of the hall, looking for anything else, mystical or mundane, that catches his eye.

[Wired*Nun]

Nothing out of the ordinary presents itself in the Great Hall. "Shall we go see your horse, sir? What's his name? May I ride him sometime?"

[Shutter]

"Yes let's do that. His name was Bill, and yes, you can ride him some time if you like. Make sure you take the time to get to know him first, let him smell you and learn that you'd like to be his friend. Aaron, can we take a scenic route to the stables? I'd like to see the view from some of the battlements." I need to see if these tornadoes are as formidable as Saloelle said. I don't like the idea that Trumps are my only avenue of escape.

[Wired*Nun]

Aaron leads Roland to the inside wall, then out onto the walkway and up external stairs to the battlements. The tornados seem to be placid for the moment. They overtop the bastions - perhaps fifty or more feet high, and ten across of so. They make a circuit perhaps every fifteen minutes or so. "Those things will catch you if you try to go through without a pass, though," says Aaron.

[Shutter]

"How do you get a pass?" Why do I suspect he's going to say "the Young Master gives them out"?

Roland takes a slow turn, surreptitiously looking at the battlements he saw portrayed in the Trumps, and sizing up the place in general.

[Wired*Nun]

"You go to the Pass Office, of course. Only, I don't think they will give you one, because the Young Master said you were not to leave yet."

[Shutter]

Roland claps Aaron on the shoulder. "Fair enough Aaron. Let's go see Bill then."

Roland follows the young boy to the stables, watching all the while, putting together his own mental map of this strange place.

On the one hand it's nice to have something quest-like to do again. On the other hand, a much heavier hand I think, I don't like this Dunstan character, or his methods, in the slightest. Those gateways he sent...Broken pattern perhaps? If he really is Jasra's son...I just don't know...I need to meet more of the family and learn more. Father means well but he lives in his forest and doesn't bother with much else. Uncle Caine would have had more to teach me I know...

Not for the first time Roland feels loss tug at his stomach. Caine was the only uncle he'd ever known, his first and most important teacher. Thoughts of revenge crept in and had to be shoved aside. Reading that book had been hard at times, a tale about a family he did not yet know, about an uncle he had known and lost...

[Wired*Nun]

Heading on down to the stables, the two make a congenial visit to Bill. He seems well cared-for. "Did you want to see the Commandant now, mister Roland?"

[Shutter]

Roland takes a moment to feed Bill and brush him. He checks the saddle bags to see if they've been searched.

"Yes Aaron, I'd like to see the commandant now."

[Wired*Nun]

The saddle bags are hanging near Bill's other tack. It doesn't look like they have been searched.

Aaron heads out into the main courtyard, waving at some of the people on the way. The look at Roland curiously, but without any particular scrutiny. Soon, they end up back in front of the area where Roland appeared originally. Roland notices a sigh that says "Pass Office" as he goes by. Aaron marches up to a door with a sign that says "COMMANDANT" in big red letters. Under that is a hanging wooden sign that says "Cornell macEnzie." Aaron leads Roland inside, where are several young soldiers sitting at desks. They have mechanical typewriters, papers and filing cabinets, pigeonholes, pens and ink. One crusty NCO with his feet up on a desk looks up, sees Roland, comes quickly to his feet. "And how is it I can be helpin' you, sarr?" he says in that debased form of Thari (Tharini was it?) they speak here.

[Shutter]

"Yes, I need to speak to a man, but I did not catch his name when we met."

Roland offers as good a physical description as he can of the man he spoke to shortly after arriving. He forgoes trying to match their form of Thari, not wanting to have his attempt seen as mockery or condecension.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ohh, that would be Marshal Stoud, sarr. I daresay the lad could pick him out for ye, I do believe he's out upon the practice field beatin' some sense into some recruits, yes sarr."

[Shutter]

"Thank you sir. I appreciate the help. Let's go see Marshall Stoud Aaron."

Roland makes his way to the practice yard, following Aaron. I don't understand why he's giving us so much time...he must know we don't like him very much, what does he gain by delaying?

[Wired*Nun]

"There he is!" Aaron points out the man you saw the day before - a grizzled veteran, wearing armor with a well-worn tabard of checkered green and black over his chainmail. He is carrying his staff, which Roland knows in some traditions is the mark of a marshal, or instructor of troops. As he is walking toward him, Stoud is yelling at one of the armored men in a squad-on-squad battle."Keep that shield up boy! Up! Up!" The recruit seems to not be listening, so Stoud swings his staff in a sharp arc that ends above the too-low shield and strikes the man's helm, hard. He staggers, then takes a wild swing with his practice sword at the marshal. The staff rotating parry-and-strike sweeps the man's sword out of his hand and connects with his groin with a clank. No doubt the man was wearing a codpiece, but even so, he ends up writhing on the ground. Laughter from the recruit's comrades probably seal the lesson - he ain't gonna forget that one.

The man turns around and sees Roland and Aaron. His face closes, and he addresses Roland. "Good morrow to you."

[Shutter]

During the instruction Roland sizes up the troops and their instructor, getting a feel for their fitness, skill, style, and dedication. Useful information should he have to fight his way out. Or even if he just needs a few training partners.

Roland bows slightly to the marshal.

"Good morrow to you Sir. I was hoping to speak with you if you could spare a few moments from instruction. I can wait if need be." He hitches his thumbs in his belt in a relaxed and non-threatening manner, hoping that this man will have some useful information, and a willingness to impart it.

[Wired*Nun]

The troops he is working with here are recruits. They suck. Others around are more competent. If he wants horse or armored work, there look to be plenty of opponents. If he wants fencing, he doesn't see anyone out here, though he did see fencing gear in the workout rooms upstairs.

"Yes, I am here. What is it you'd be wanting?" The marshal's [one "L"] attitude is neutral, not respectful like most of the staff. There's no issue of physical threat here; wrong or right, he doesn't seem to fear Roland in any way, just doesn't seem to know or care that he has any special status here.

[Shutter]

Roland is slightly puzzled by the man's demeanor, but can't quite put his finger on what it is. He's not used to people being so deferential in the first place, but this man seems odd.

"I believe we met a day or so ago, you mistook me for a man named Hinton I believe. Could you tell me some more about that, the arrival was strange to me and I would like to hear how it looked to an outsider."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I remember t'at. You're one of t'em Amberite fellows aren't you? It seems you're as tricky as the General always said you were, with yer magical disguises an' all, and strong ta boot. But listen here, I don' have anyt'ing against yer personally, but I don't be likin' Amberites in general, and neither does anyone else here. T'a keepers don't much care, I suppose, one master's as good as anot'er, but I can't afford to be givin' ya anyt'ing, all right? So if yer don't mind, I have work ta do." And with that he turns away and goes back to cracking heads.

[Shutter]

"I'm not asking you to give me anything more than a few words. Tell me if you've seen Hinton since the day I arrived? Tell me if you saw me and my horse appear out of thin air or not? And tell me who the General you spoke of is, then I'll leave you to your business and bother you no more. I'm sorry that you don't like my people, can't say that I blame you, but if being a further pain in the ass is what is needed for me to get some answers, then so be it."

[Wired*Nun]

He turns back around, and scowls. "I'm tired of yer playin', Amberite. The General's given name is Dalt. Yer might have heard of 'im. Feel free to ask him any of yer questions when he gets here next, he usually comes by every week or two for inspections and such. Now, leave me the hell alone." He turns back away again. He grabs one of the recruits and starts talking to him.

[Shutter]

Insolent bastard... Begins an ancestral arrogance that Roland barely knew was there. The kind of arrogance that with a different upbringing would have left the marshal dead on the ground for his rudeness.

Fortunately Roland's formative years were spent in a sort of monestary, among men of calm and peace, even if they were skilled in violence. Their lifestyle had been Roland's, and their beliefs were Roland's. His anger was gone before he even noticed it had been there.

"You are rude for no good reason. I will leave you now." Roland says to the man's back before turning and leaving.

"Aaron, I am going to take a tour of the battlements, you can go if you like, I'm sure you have studies to attend to. I need to think and I don't know that I'll be a very interesting companion for the next few hours." He says to the boy accompanying him once they're out of sight and earshot.

[Wired*Nun]

"OK, but well, I have no studies, I have been assigned to you gentlemen, I suppose I should get back to the apartments and see if the others have anything needs doing." He heads off at a dead run, as boys of that age are wont to do.

Roland heads up to the battlements to take a tour. There is nothing remarkable beyond what has already been seen. He notes crossbowmen and crews manning the scorpions at the corners of the inner keep. These are all in black and green.

[Shutter]

Roland tries to make his way to the top of one of the Bastions, the seaward one, to see if there is an Trump display to be found.

[Wired*Nun]

Roland heads up to the nearest of the bastions, the one at the corner between the desert and sea. There are about twenty men up top, with about ten of them wearing black and green, the others, the gold/silver/green/blue. The ones in black and green are obviously professionals, while the others impress him as garrison troops of reasonable quality. The ones in black and green watch warily.

There is a cabinetlike affair mounted into the inner wall of the bastion, emanating similar Trump to the fixture behind the tapestry. It looks to be locked up tight.

[Shutter]

Roland doesn't pay much heed to the men-at-arms. A glance at the case is enough to confirm his suspicions. After barely a moment he is headed back towards the trio's quarters. He thinks as he walks. The main question he keeps stumbling over is, "why?"

[Wired*Nun]

Roland returns to the rooms. [Go to the thread "Joss, Raevyn, Siodmak, Roland in the Keep"]