Arrotel

[Wired*Nun]

Shall I come through, or would you rather hear the full tale in this wonderfully picturesque shadow I have found?"

"Oh, I have too many pots on the stove right now to take a trip with you - but thanks for asking, perhaps another time." A wink later, she recrosses her legs, showing a well-turned ankle, and bobs her foot in time with an unheard tempo for a moment.

Holding out a hand as if to be kissed, she rises smoothly and says, as if just occurring to her, "Come on through, and you can tell me all about it."

If he does, he finds himself in a nondescript room, presumably in Castle Amber. Light flowery scents and certain telltale accents indicate to him that she probably uses this room more than others. Probably near her quarters, then, but not inside them...and shielded from eavesdropping...

[Icebird]

Not thinking of that... Repeat: Not thinking of that...

If there is an extra chair, Arrotel sits in it.

"I'm not really sure where to begin... Perhaps the begging would be a good place."

Keeping it very brief, he'll summarize events since he met Alamor in shadow. He'll also say that he simply escaped from the Keep after the fight, with no mention of his means or that he did so after surrendering.

[Wired*Nun]

"I'm not really sure where to begin... Perhaps the begging would be a good place."


"Yes, I love begging!" she says with exaggerated attention. "Fell free to beg all you like."

Keeping it very brief, he'll summarize events since he met Alamor in shadow. He'll also say that he simply escaped from the Keep after the fight, with no mention of his means or that he did so after surrendering

"Hmmm hmmm hmmm, all very interesting...and well worth the price of transport...and what shall you do now, my boy? Still dodging daddy? Oh, sorry, didn't mean that to come out like that. I mean, is my brother still the vast but oh so necessary wet blanket on things that you naturally don't want to spend time beneath?" Must not have had enough playtime lately, Auntie, to be toying with the little ones? Damn...

[Icebird]

Oh... Did I just say that?

"I'm not really avoiding my damp coverlet so much as not actively looking for it. Wet blankets with a strong will of their own have a tendency to find me, whether I wish it or not.

"I think that I may want to wait and see what happens to the captured before I do anything other than sleep a lot and eat a proportionate amount.

"I said that I'd start with the begging, but I suppose that failing that, here is as good a time as any.
Oh dear aunt, master of quick comebacks, I'd like to get a trump of Amber, as well as a reasonably remote shadow. It is a bit annoying to have to call someone every time I'd like to get somewhere."

Delayed wit aside, my list of friends grows thin... Oh well. There are still a few I can count on, if not completely like. And of course Asmundson.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, my, I hope you're not referring to me. Heaven forefend if I ever limit your freedom, unless in service to the Crown, of course." She raises her chin, looking momentarily righteous, then her eyes crinkle and she giggles. "And don't let me get in the way of good sleep and food. There's plenty of both around here, more's the pity. Here," she says handing him a Trump of the Great Hall, "here's a Family palace trump. As far as a remote shadow...I'll have to check my files for something suitable. Come to my office when you have time over the next day or three."

Standing, she runs a finger along a shelf, and flicks off a bit of dust she picked up. "Really have to talk to the staff...in any case, your room is still where it was before. I'll have a meal sent up for you. Toodles!" She leaves with a swish and the scent of roses hanging in the air.

[Icebird]

"A pleasure as always, aunt."

That went well enough. I still can't believe I said that thing about begging though...

Wandering back slowly to his room, Arrotel bows his head in thought.

How useless can I be? Everyone else acually did something- All I did was get us past a door, and anyone else could have done that with a little more time.

Rae- Unknown. Roland- Captured. Kat- Captured. Heldrik- captured. Landon- Free, no idea what he'll do next. Gray- same, mad at me. Asmundson- free, still friendly. So what next?

An answer comes looming out of the hall in the form of the door to his room. He flops down on a chair, ignoring the dirt he brings with him from the still recent fight.

Alamor- Now that's a sore spot. I dragged him into my fight and didn't get him out. First, get something a bit more dangerous than playing cards, then I'll see if there's anything I can do about him.

A knock on the still open door proves to be dinner- fried rice with noodles and vegetables. After the staff member leaves, Arrotel digs in with a will. A surprisingly short time later, there is no trace that the plate was ever anything other than dirty- leaving it for later, Arrotel takes only a moment to take off his shoes before laying down on the bed. While it does have a physical component, this a mental and emotional exhaustion.

I haven't been this tired since I stopped training with dad. As Flora said, he'll probably have a few choice words to say when he finds me...

With that, he falls into a deep sleep.

[Wired*Nun]

The next morning arrives without warning in the form of a pigeon, beating its wings against his window. When it doesn't go away, he drags himself up and looks through the glass at the thing strutting up and down on the sill. There is a tiny tube tied to its leg, and he lets it in, where it waits docilely to be relieved of its tiny burden.

Eric's Grave, noon is all it says, and it's signed, B-

Father. What now.

[Icebird]

[i] So early... Oh, wait. No it's not. Now I know why hawks don't move for a day after a big meal. Oh well, no time for that... So many things to do.

Checking in the closet, it seems that a thoughtfull servant has placed another outfit there for him. Arrotel washes a bit and excanges his dirty one for it. A quick nip into the kitchen for a piece of fruit and a roll with cheese and he'll head for the specified location well ahead of time.

[Wired*Nun]

Up high, overlooking the ocean, across a narrow gorge from Corwin's cenotaph...Corwin must have interred him here, after he became King for a Day, or whatever it was...Arrotel gets there well ahead of time. The day is crisp and cold, with the hint of a blow in it. Far out on the horizon, he sees some gathering clouds. Might hit by tonight...He seats himself on the crypt, relatively unbothered by the idea that his uncle's body lies there inside.

His mind drifts with the fluffy clouds, and the sails of the fishing boats far below. Somewhere around noon, he hears the clop of a horse's hooves on hard stone for a moment. Glancing over his shoulder, he is somewhat surprised to see Benedict mounted on Glendemming, and outfitted in buckskin.

[Icebird]

As Benedict approaches, Arrotel puts on his best uncaring look and stands leaning on the cenotaph. "I suppose you heard about my little escapade?" His hardened face quickly melts down and he hangs his head. "I have already lost, or at least misplaced, one friend over this. Be angry or annoyed, anything but disappointed in me."

[Wired*Nun]

"Not in you, Arrotel. Only in myself, for neglecting your education. I told myself before that you weren't ready, then threw you into this situation without proper training. The realm can get along without me for a time, and without you. Let us walk." Benedict dismounts, to lead Glendemming, and walks him up the trail that ascends Kolvir.

[Icebird]

"Not entirely your fault. I was anxious to be off, and would likely soon have found myself in a messy place anyways."

After that, Arrotel walks silently, watching the ocean.

[Wired*Nun]

Arriving after some time at the top of Kolvir, Benedict drops Glendemming's reins to let him graze as he will. He seats himself on the three rough stone steps there, motioning for Arrotel to do the same.

"I know you have heard the tales of Chaos," he begins. "Like any hereditary enemy in any society, the stories grow worse with the telling. They are no worse, and no better, than we. They are just people, who live in a different time, and a different place, and a different way than we do. I never expected you to have to deal with them in the way you did, and so you had no ground on which to stand. I hope to rectify that now."

[Icebird]

Arrotel does so, perching gingerly on the edge of the step.

"Not chaos in general, but Hedrake in specific. I've only really encountered them in the Great Book, and in that Heldrake was always the enemy, someone to be carefull around and not to trust. As you say, that was a skewed perspective. I was trusting enough of the two other chaosites I've met."

[Wired*Nun]

"In reality, Hendrake proper is one of the most honorable, tradition-bound Houses in Chaos. It is we of Amber that have broken with these traditions. It was Oberon who exemplified the idea that expediency reigned supreme - that the ends justifed the means. In many traditions, that makes us the evil ones. In others, we're the rugged individualists fighting the oppresive system. However, everyone's freedom is circumscribed by either rules, or the limits of risk. The difficulty for us of Amber is that we don't study our opponents like they study us. There are seventeen major Houses, over six hundred full-fledged Chaos Lords along with thousands of minor sorcerers, shadowmasters, demons of note, warriors, servants, chroniclers, priests...Dworkin created a thing of great Power in the Pattern, a symbol of Order where before the only order was what individuals imposed. This was an affront to every Chaos Lord who ever created a realm out of Shadow. You know about machine cultures. Essentially, Dworkin used an artifact, a machine, to create another artifact, or machine, each one multiplying his will enormously, so that now, all of House Amber is invested in this artifact, this machine. We are part of it, and it is part of us. That need not change, nor should our devotion to what he created. But we need not accept it as a finished work. Rather, it is a work in progress, imperfect...and if it is imperfect, then so are we, and cannot hold ourselves up as paragons of virtue." He pauses in this soliloquy, taking a breath before he goes on.

"This means that they and we are forever in opposition, unless we come to an accomodation. It is a zero-sum game, for those who watch such things. Each side has its truths, its good points, and its rightnesses. Each has its fallacies...and each is ultimately necessary. Chaos represents the strong dominating the weak, a pyramidal system where wisdom is hoarded, and power determines place. To regulate this, they have come up with many rules, forms of behavior, to create some order out of Chaos. Amber represents, is supposed to represent, a better social order. There is no slavery here. There are no demons or servant races. You can have that in Shadow if you wish, but not here. In Amber, there is the rule of Law. In Chaos, custom is the only rule, enforced by the will of the heads of the great Houses. In some ways it is just as binding - but it is less impartial, and ultimately, corruptible. Some would argue that our monarchy is the same - but we at least have a veneer of law, courts, recourse from tyrrany. Ultimately, though, each system depends on a kind of personal and general morality, ethics if you will, composed of honesty and trust."

"I say this all to you so you understand what you did, and why it was wrong. It was not wrong because you broke some law, or custom of the Courts, to which you owe no allegiance. It was wrong because you surrendered, which meant, acknowledging their advantage and submitting to their custody. In return, you would have been given your just respect, kept your arms, and remanded as soon as practicable. This is how fueds are avoided in the Courts, and how death among the powerful is kept at bay. That you did not know the specifics of this is immaterial. The point of honor, if you will, was when you opened your mouth and made a de facto commitment of honor, at least in their eyes."

He looks at Arrotel in the face searching for his understanding, his recognition of Benedict's explanation. That these are more words spoken to him by his father in the last few minutes, than in the sum total of his entire life before, just makes it all the more overwhelming.

[Icebird]

Arrotel returns the look, doing some searching of his own.

"In their eyes. In your eyes. In my eyes, I saw a problem and a solution, and took them. That always was my problem- my eyes look on the world in such a different way than everyone else's. We each have our own standards- perhaps I would act differently if I could do it again. Perhaps not. Who can say anything with certainty? Not me."

Arrotel turns his head away and stares at the sky.

"You know why I did what I did, and I know why you and everyone else thinks it was wrong. I've never considered stupid or untrustworthy, but I suppose there is still a lot in me that I can't see with someone else's eyes."

[Wired*Nun]

"You don't have to agree with me. If you believe all morality is relative, fine. But if a lot of people disagree with that morality, be prepared to walk a lonely road - and martyrdom is only noble if done for a good reason. I don't think you're stupid, or untrustworthy. I just think you haven't learned the finer points of things. You can decide that you want to learn it all yourself, the hard way. Or you can listen to me, and learn. Like any father, I hope it's the latter - but I'm not forcing you to do anything. Your choices have consequences. All choices have consequences. I will always love my son. My sons. I loved Siodmak, even when I took his life. He made his choices, extreme ones, and the consequences flowed from that. Your choices will bring consequences - they already have. This isn't me telling you what to do. This is me telling you what will happen. The most valuable thing you have is your reputation, You will be judged in the eyes of everyone you know."

He runs down, and sighs, placing a finger against his forehead, then drops his hand, looking out into the distance.

[Icebird]

"It is relative. Chaos has their standards, you have yours, I have mine. They are not exacly the same, so they are relative. But I do have standards, ideals that I would like to live up to, and I broke them. I suppose I just didn't want to admit it, but it's true. I don't want to be the person I acted like."

Arrotel stands suddenly and turns to face Benedict.

"Only fools don't feel fear- I wasn't able to think properly through mine. I had an arrow in my hand, a friend with a sword in his belly on the floor, bodies all around me, and I ran. Hindsight is wonderful; I'll see if I can think better next time I'm in that situation."

He sits back down, shoulders slumped.

"Sorry. You're the last person I should be getting mad at, the only one who actually cares enough to try and help. I just didn't get a chance to say these things to the one person who might actually need to hear them."

Of course, I probably would have gotten my head bitten if I had said that to her at the time...

[Wired*Nun]

Benedict's steady look is less harsh than he expected. "I didn't say what you did was not understandable, nor forgivable. I only said it was wrong. You're old enough to face your mistakes, so that you can avoid them in the future. Combat is stressful. Combat with friends involved, family around you, is worse." He turns to face Arrotel fully.

"Do you think I never made a mistake? Got caught off guard? Do you think I don't think back over errors, could-have-beens? If I had moved just a little bit faster, I would have saved Joss. If I had argued a little differently, or done something else, Siodmak might be alive. The only difference between us is time, Arrotel - time and experience. Time and experience hone judgment - and judgment is really all there is to life. A series of decisions, using your judgment. The best you can do is do better next time."

He pats Arrotel on the knee, fingers inward. "The sun will be going down soon. Then we can begin to really learn."

[Icebird]

"No, it never actually occurred to me that you have made mistakes- I've never seen you as anything other than infallible. Every dad's dream, I suppose, but also another thoughtless assumption on my part."

Comprehension dawns on Arrotel's face suddenly as Benedict mentions the sun, then a hint of excitement. His anger and bad mood of a moment before evaporates as surely as dew in the sun at the prospect of a new place to see.

"I thought we might be going on a trip, but one so close to home I hadn't thought of. A moment while I arrange for escape, should that storm that showed itself earlier should materialize."

If there is no objection, Arrotel calls Telloth- "Remember that Tir-na-something-or-other place in the clouds we read about? Looks like I'm about take a visit. Could you avoid being too high up if it evaporates like it did in the book?"

[Wired*Nun]

A raptor laugh follows. "Books are for sleeping," Telloth says haughtily. I suppose that's a good solid bird-of-prey attitude. "I will stay near the dirt."

Benedict doesn't reply, but shuffles out Gerard's Trump, and then Arrotel's, and slips them in his breast pocket.

"As soon as the sun goes down, we should be ready. The moon is already coming over the horizon, so when light exchanges one for the other, we will ascend."

"Do your best not to become overly involved in what you see. It is all shadows and might-bes, glimmers of the future and might-have-beens. Keep your wits about you, and stay together. Make your escape any time you feel you must, and I will do the same."

[Icebird]

"Over-involvment is not one of my many flaws, but I'll do my best."

Arrotel sits still a moment watching the rising moon, then less patiently as more time passes.

"Can we control what we see like a shadow, or is it more real than that even though it isn't?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I have never been able to consciously influence what I saw, though I have influenced minor probability aspects, just as if I was near Amber. I believe Tir-na N'ogth to be just as real in its own way as this Amber, which is to say, almost immutable - but formed not of the present, but of the past and future, and of alternate pasts and futures, whatever they may be. We must extrapolate our own meanings from these things, judging truth from falsehood, or perhaps, applicability from irrelevance."

Seeing the last of the sun's rays lighting the western sky, Benedict rises, to stand on the top step. "It is almost time. Clear your mind as best you can from clutter and doubt."

[Icebird]

Ok... Done wollowing in self pitty and recrimination, spit out my anger, worked through my depresion...

"No emotions strong enough to everwhelm me left, at least not now. As for clutter, a clean room is the sign of a dangerously sick mind... Is a clean mind the sign of a dangerously sick room?"

Arrotel checkles lightly, his heart not really in it.

"But seriously, I'm as ready as I can be."

[Wired*Nun]

A sharp look from his father reminds Arrotel that this may not be the best time to display humor. I know he can laugh, but he always was a dour dad...

Ghostly steps rise from the rockpile they were sitting on, one, two, three and up. Benedict sets his foot upon the fourth, then the fifth, and upward. He climbs quickly, and Arrotel begins his own climb so as not to get left behind. In a moment they are rising at a dizzying speed, escalator-like. Never taking his eyes from the steps, as his father instructed, it seems but a breath until he stands before the ghostly archway into the silver city, his tall sire at his side.

Benedict turns to Arrotel, looking down at him with strangely gentle eyes. "Go, now, lead the way. We are here for you, though there may yet be some of me out there." Best that I watch your back, he means...

[Icebird]

Arrotel keeps silent as he climbs, and at the top as well. There is no sound from him at all, as if he is so wrapped up in himself and and the stairs that even the air doesn't notice him. At his father's word, he looks up and sees the arch, but still makes no sound as passes through it.

[Wired*Nun]

Through the arch and down the wide boulevard, then up towards Castle Amber they walk, ghosts passing to the left and right, as if in a grand silvery ballroom, everything slightly slowed, slightly out of focus. Gazes pass though, diaphanous as the summeriest backlit dress, feeling of loss and time.

In to the castle now, rotating, turning about him imperceptibly, into the Great Hall. Configured for a dance, the figures in it swirl, two by two, until one lady in a faintly orange domino seems to beckon him to the floor, meeting his eyes. Familiar, familiar, someone long gone. Her hand reaching, cobwebs on his brow and his lips.

[Icebird]

Arrotel steps out onto the floor and meets her, doing his best to immitate the dancers around him. His steps are smooth, but he stumbles a few times and shrugs an appology. I never did learn to dance, in use form of the word.

[Wired*Nun]

The woman in his arms resembles no one so much as his mother, though it is not she. Still...what could be, or would be... the woman seems about his age, perhaps a couple of years older, and he can see his father in her face as well. My sister? In the what-would-be, or what is? Do I have a sister unknown, or is this what would have happened had mother lived? The woman spins away with a blown kiss, and suddenly, Arrotel whirls to a stop, standing perilously close to the battlements of the castle, looking over the great avenue leading up from the city. Troops march along the avenue, directly toward the Castle, and Benedict is nowhere to be seen.

[Icebird]

Questions to ask, no answers to be found. The very definition of Tir-na N'ogth. Still, I have to wonder what ever happened to home.

As the dance ends for him at least, Arrotel stares out at the approaching troops, then up at the sky, then back down to the street.

I feel like an observer, powerless to change or do anything. Hostile or friendly, or both? Not likely friendly, marching that way in the city.

Arrotel sits and tries the best he can to make out the colors they are wearing or any symbols the troops carry.

[Wired*Nun]

The colors of the troops, in ghostly faintness, appear to be red and black - Eric's? But he is long dead, perhaps not in this reality. They pass underneath Arrotel, marching into the castle without conflict, but in force nonetheless. Arrotel is reminded of the march of wooden soldiers in some show or play.

More disturbing is what follows the soldiers - a figure in chains. As it draws closer, Arrotel can see it is Joss, wrapped in heavy manacles and led by a spiked chain around his neck, the chain in a young boy's hands. A fool dances and capers behind him, holding a sign - "MURDERER."

[Icebird]

Friendly with Amber, not so much with Gerrard... I wonder what the soldiers would think of me?

Arrotel glances at the clouds again, and is reminded that reality is an interesting subject with regard to this place.

Perhaps it is saying that Joss' death was just another piece of a game, another manuver in a game of power. Someone in Amber is hiding the who-done-it card and sending us searching the rest of the universe. Someone to do with Eric. Landon? Gray? I wouldn't immagine it of either of them... Or maybe not. Another might have been.

Arrotel turns away from the edge and trys to find his way down to the castle entrance.

[Wired*Nun]

Turning away, Arrotel is confronted by a man in black, with his face covered by an elaborate feathered mask in the style of the carnivale. This man draws his blade and strikes at Arrotel, swifter than he can dodge. Fortunately, the blade passes right through him, and the man spins around and looks in all directions, as if Arrotel were vanished.

Another man, in red with a red feathered mask, steps up to engage the first, and they pass swords briefly before the man in black lies dead at his feet. A man with a crown appears, wrapped in a jester's outfit and multicolored mask, to fall down and weep at the death of the man in black.

The scene begins rising, until Arrotel realizes that it he he who is sinking. Looking about, he sees dawn peeking over the edge of the earth, and Telloth's insistent pecking at his mind reminds him to leave before he takes the long short way down.

[Icebird]

As the man in black raises his blade, a look crosses Arrotel's face - resignation, as if he expected it to have happened a long time ago. When it passes through him rather than through him, he quickly steps back, then smiles at the jester-king.

"Vaporal blades, made of vapor!" he says, and tries to get a look at the jester's face before he steps through to Telloth. He sits on the ground for just a moment, then addresses his longtime companion.

"Ever felt like just giving it all up? Finding a nice place in shadow and settling down for a few hundred years? No? Me neither."

Arrotel stands quickly.

"What I need is a good Japanese restaraunt. I don't suppose you've seen one hereabouts... Ah well, too many things to do. And it's always a bad sign when I begin thinking out loud."

[Icebird]

[I'm going to go ahead and do more while I wait. Edit/interupt at any point where things happen.]

The resteraunt is easier to find than Arrotel expected- a pair of enterprising orientals somehow got lost in a nearby shadow, and have set up shop along a road. Arrotel pays well in gold, and is soon set up with a large lunch, for it is closer to noon than midnight in that place. The lunch is quickly gone, and Arrotel is on his way, walking to Amber. Once he is in the real world, Teloth flies ahead to the city proper and brings Arrotel through.

[Wired*Nun]

It occurs to Arrotel to wonder just which shadow he has gotten to, and how - Telloth must have wandered through shadow, following Arrotel...where? In what direction? Good question, for another day. Still, it isn't too far away and a leisurely walk though Arden is followed by his arrival into Amber, beside a cool stone wall covered in moss, just off the main avenue.

[Icebird]

As he leans up against the wall, Arrotel's mind wanders. All over the universe... From Tir-Na-Nogth above and contacting his father again, through the castle above and if he is still under orders to find Joss' killer, to unfinished thoughts of magic, Asmundson off in shadow, and even all the way to the courts of chaos and his short time friend Alamor.

"Too much." He says out loud, to no one in particular.

"Yes, I think so too." Arrotel nearly jumps at the sudden reply, but manages not to fall down. It is a young dark-skinned stranger, bearing two small baskets of apple pie radiating a strong cinnamon scent.

"Those spices were a bit stronger than usual. Can I interest you in one anyways?" A cheerful boy of about his age, nothing unusual. Arrotel smiles back, but "No thanks. I was just thinking out loud, really. I'm Arrow. And you are?"

"Alomar. Nice to meet you." Arrotel looks more closely at the boy- a vague resemblance, but not really that close. Aside from the whole not being dead thing, of course.

Couldn't be a shadow of him all the way up here, could it? No, and what would a shadow of a vampire look like as a human anyways? Just a coincidence. Except I don't believe in that word.

Arrotel walks along side Alomar as he continues his journey, talking with him and carrying one of the baskets. As it turns out, he runs a pie booth while his mother bakes them. And his father died a few weeks ago. A father with nearly perfectly black skin from another shadow.

That's just too much. If it's not chance, then it must mean something. OK, I get the message.

"Well, it's been nice talking, but I have to go now. There's another friend I need to see to, and possibly rescue. Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."

So saying, Arrotel heads up to the castle. First of all, a note to be left in Benedict's room, just mentioning that he got out fine and will be on an errand of his own shortly, but still available.

[Wired*Nun]

On the way in, Arrotel receives a Trump call. After the usual precautions, he finds himself looking at his father, apparently sitting on a thick tree branch off the ground.

"Just checking," he says, for openers. "I hope that was useful to you, in some way."

[Icebird]

"Certainly thought provoking. I was on the way to leave a note, but I'll be off now. Did you see what happened at the Keep to a vampire-shapeshifter of sorts? Last I saw, he was pinned by a sword but still 'alive'. I'm on my way to find him now."

[Wired*Nun]

The slight cock of the head indicates uncertainty, at least, to one who knows him well. "I wasn't really paying attention to specific combatants right then, so no, I'm sorry. If it's important, I could probably use some hypnotic techniques to recall the visual memory, but it will take a couple of hours. Is it important? Though I'm guessing if he was captured, you may have a difficult time."

[Icebird]

"From the way he leaped at the chance, I don't think this was the first time he fought with Heldrake. I'm not sure how well their sense of honor would treat a repeated nuisance with no familial importance. I'm hoping well enough that there may be ome hope of finding him."

"I brought him to the fight, so I supose I'm feeling guilty that he didn't get out with me, or maybe at all."

[Wired*Nun]

"They don't execute prisoners, for many reasons. Oh, they say it's their honor, but it's also practical. People are goods." He stares at Arrotel. "To them, that is. But is this fellow anything more than a comrade in arms to you? Did he just take advantage of you to get to them? Or do you feel an obligation? For if you do, you might as well see what they want for him. Can't hurt to talk. Tell them you're mine. They will at least listen."

[Icebird]

"No, nothing more than a comrade really, but I've never lost anyone in battle. An obligation really, to at least find out if he's alive. Also, as you say, it's practical. I have enough people who don't like me that anyone who does is worth protecting."

"I was hoping to avoid facing them directly- I think my name has more weight on the bad side than yours does good. Ask other people who might be able to ask for me. Rebis, that guy who was using the Logrus during the fight, for one."

At the suggestion that he has been taken advantage of, Arrotel thinks for a moment then shakes his head. "That hadn't even occurred to me. But if he was looking for a fight, why was he wandering shadow instead of getting into one on his own? I'm not sure where I would come into the picture, if that was the case."

[Wired*Nun]

Benedict looks at Arrotel a little sideways and the ghost of a smile crosses his stern features. "Ah, yes, their Pronouncement. Forgive me for forgetting for a moment. I shouldn't overestimate myself. Still, I could arrange you to apologise, if it's something you want to do. The fact that you were...underinformed...is my fault anyway, and I can take some of that responsibility. I'm beginning to see you are wiser than I was, at your age. Well for you."

At the suggestion that he has been taken advantage of, Arrotel thinks for a moment then shakes his head. "That hadn't even occurred to me. But if he was looking for a fight, why was he wandering shadow instead of getting into one on his own? I'm not sure where I would come into the picture, if that was the case."

"Perhaps he sought a shadow wherin he would find an opportunity to strike at Hendrake...whether that constitutes using you is a metaphysical question." A coughing roar souns somewhere on Benedict's side of the connection, and he glances down, then, apparently unconcerned, back up. "So what are you next about?"

[Icebird]

"Hm... No, I'd call that a coincidence that we were on our way to a fight, if such things can be said to apply to us. Even if so, we used him as much as he did us."

"No, I don't think I want to apologize. Was it not written somewhere that a persons most treasured possession was his pride? I certainly don't have anything else worth fighting for."

"I'm going to head for his shadow, if I can find it. A bit closer to the courts than I'd like, according to Merlin's books, but with Heldrake seemingly moved out, it should be safe enough for me, if I take a bit of time to gather a friend or two. Have you ever met the vampires before? Real ones, not shadows."

[Wired*Nun]

"I think the pride quotation was ironic, if that changes things at all. There are many types of pride, mostly those that go before falls. Make sure you keep your feet."

"I've met many manifestations of things one would call vampires. Most shadows have their own version. And what do you mean by real? If you mean, associated with one end of reality or the other and able to move among shadows themselves, then there are only the Changed of the shadow in the Black Zone called Doracus. I know little more than that, however. While I have made an effort to educate myself since the Black Road War, I have never met one of them in the flesh. You might want to talk to your cousin Josh about that, he knows more of the Chaos side of things than most of your generation."

[Icebird]

"Yes, that was it, in the Black Zone. He called himself one of the Changed, but I was still thinking of him in more familiar terms. A habit I'll have to change, if I'm going to meet one again. Josh... I hadn't thought of him. I'll give him a call when we're done."

"Well, if I can't keep my feet under me, then I'll just have to do a handstand, won't I?" Arrotel grins as he mentions handstands.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, when we are done." He looks speculatively down, then up again. "You mind if I come through? It will save me killing something I don't need to kill, and there's always the chance that I would be lunch instead. I'll not trouble you long."

[Icebird]

"Anytime. Always room for one more in Amber city, and you especially." Arrotel extends his hand and brings Benedict through.

"If there's something that can turn you into lunch just wandering around, I sure don't want to find out about it. If there's nothing else..."

Unless Benedict brings up any other conversation points, Arrotel pulls out Raevyn's card and concentrates.

"Fastest way to find Josh is to find her." He says, as he pulls out her card.

(OOC: I don't think I ever got one of Josh directly...)