Roland

[Wired*Nun]

Turning back to the Sketch he bends his will to the work of opening the contact. Once he has it he will rise, shouldering his satchel and call out quietly to Corwin. "We're done here, ready when you are, Uncle."

Corwin glances back over his shoulder, then does a double-take at the empty cavern. Shrugging, or perhaps stretching, he says to the stymied Chaosites before him, "Sorry, chums, it's been fun, but in time all good things must end. I bid you adieu, and adieu." Saluting with Grayswandir, he steps back and shuts the door.

"Let's be about it then, shall we?" Stepping up to look at the sketch, Corwin and Roland soon stand inside the scene, the sound of pounding on the cavern door fading behind them.

Glancing around, Corwin says, "Nice. Simple, clean...you have good taste. Of course, your father and I always did have a lot in common...especially, despising each other. Too much alike, maybe."

[Shutter]

"Thanks...make yourself at home. Wine in the winerack, should be a case of beer in the stream out back. I need to find out what happened to Josh..." Roland begins to toss his satchel on the kitchen table, realizes it too has a fair amount of gore on it, and checks the motion. Instead he walks carefully into the kitchen shedding bloody garments onto the tiled, and easily cleanable, floor. With a slient prayer for the pipes not to have burst in his absense he turns the faucet for some water to wash his hands with. Damn...forgot I don't have hot water here, I should look into that someday....Just need them clean enough to dig out my Trumps, without getting any more blood on them. Glad this is mostly the guardsmans, not all mine...Better safe than dead, that's what they say.

Once his hands are clean he shuffles out Josh's Trump and focuses on making contact. Come on man...be there...be safe...

[Wired*Nun]

A pinging bounce, a snick and a snap, and Josh pops into focus. "Oh, hey, Roland! You're all right, I'm glad. Have you heard from Raevyn?" He looks anxious.

Josh's face is puffy and bruised, but he looks clean, and in a clean bed. He looks like Roland woke him up, actually. Probably took advantage of fast time, but it hasn't been that long...

"Lester told me some of what happened..."

[Shutter]

Odd connection, and an odd notion of all right. Very correct notion I guess. "Good, you did make it out. As I understand it Raevyn was captured, but should be ransomed out shortly, if not already, she's safe...I'll fill you in soon, in person. I just don't trust Trumps much these days after the tricks your dad used to pull." He gives a tired smile, remembering the time he spent learning from Caine.

[Wired*Nun]

"Captured!" He sits up suddenly, wincing, and then relaxes. "Well...I guess I should recover a bit more before I go on any rescue missions...you want to come here?"

Corwin swims into Roland's vision, at an angle where Josh can't see him, and raises an eyebrow.

[Shutter]

He shakes his head gently at Josh. Damnit, never tell a man that the object of his affection has been taken captive and expect him to remain calm.

"Relax Josh...No, not right now. I've got to set my nose, and I've probably got a concusion...Give me a couple of days to rest up and we'll talk. House Hendrake, the whole damned lot of them, showed up, followed shortly by Benedict. He negotiated our release, and hers I think. Give her a call, if you can't reach her, call me back and we'll ride off to vengeance and whatnot, but really, the Hendrakes showed a lot of courtesy in the whole thing...aside from Dara...right...details...bah. Not right now."

"She's either ransomed and safe, or soon to be ransomed and still safe. I was really just calling to make sure you made it out safely. Neat trick that was."

[Wired*Nun]

At the mention of Dara, he looks sour. "Her again..." he mutters. "Lester got me out, fortunately. People underestimate him, but he's as smart as your average teenager, and follows instructions a lot better...mostly. So all right, I'll rest up some more, I need it. We'll link up again when one of us is well...good enough?" He takes a drink from a glass by his bedside as he waits for the answer.

[Shutter]

"Agreed." Anything else we needed to discuss?....no...not really.

"Rest well Josh. I'll see you again soon." After any parting words from Josh, Roland closes the connection, and puts his Trumps away. He turns to face Corwin, too tired to really soak up the oddity of this legendary family figure relaxing in his simple mountain cabin.

"That was Josh, Caine's son. He was there for the early skirmish with Dara, and apparently escaped. Everyone on our side is alive and accounted for, assuming we can trust Hendrake about capturing Kat and Raevyn, which I think we can...Well, except for the wolfman who came with Arrotel, but if he fled without him....Poor bastard should choose his allies better before charging into a random battle...Anyway..." He looks around the kitchen, feeling awkward suddenly.

"I'm going to wash myself off in the sink here, change clothes, and grab a beer and some food...Do you have some time, or are you leaving immediately?" Almost instinctive impulse to call him Sir after the way he handled those Chaosites.

[Wired*Nun]

"You too, my friend. Glad you got out all right too, hope you did as well to the other guy." He falls backwards onto the pillow, and the connection fades.


"That was Josh, Caine's son

"Yeah, I've met Josh. Decent kid, given what he has to deal with. No, I don't have to leave here any time soon, but do you mind if I tweak this place up a little faster? And all of those things you mentioned seem right up my alley." He begins to build a fire in the stove, and after he gets that lit, in the fireplace. "Got a big pot? Some hot water might feel better."

As Roland cleans up, Corwin looks around the cabin, finding some towels and, in another cupboard, canned and dry food. Putting out more cookery, he soon has a simple stew bubbling. "Don't feel bad about the fight. You win some, you lose some. Kind of like what they say about flying...any landing you walk away from..."

[Shutter]

"I was about to ask you to do both of those things, thanks. I think I could dial up the timeflow myself, but I don't have much experience with that kind of thing." Roland talks over his shoulder while he cleans himself off in the sink. Damn that's some cold water...stings too.

"The big pots are...yeah, that's right, that cupboard there..."

"Don't feel bad about the fight. You win some, you lose some. Kind of like what they say about flying...any landing you walk away from..."

"Thanks...Still though..." I got my ass kicked. He leaves it unspoken. Once he's got most of the mess washed off he slips into the bathroom to change out of his gorestained armour and clothing and into a set of clean but worn work clothes. While doing so he gives himself a once over to check for anything that needs major bandaging. Ok, no big deal if I get some blood on this shirt, just small cuts... When he's done he comes back into the kitchen to find Cowin making good progress on the stew.

"I read once that you've been to medical school. Would you mind setting my nose for me? I would rather not risk it healing up like this." The strain in his voice speak volumes for how little he enjoys having a broken nose. A damned awkward pain.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah...nothing to it, from my point of view. From yours...well, this is going to hurt you more than me. Sit down here, let me get a cloth...yeah, this baby will probably bleed a little more. I really should have gauze and tape and things, but I'll do what I can. You sure you don't want to go visit a modern hospital?" He sets about his work, and, assuming Roland wants it done here and now, sets it as best he can, and wraps it carefully.

"You have to sleep on your back - and propped up, too, for a bit, or you may knock it loose in your sleep." Setting out bowls of stew, he digs in with relish, eating without speaking. Cold water from the faucet washes down the simple food, and there is no need for talk for a while.

[Shutter]

I really should have gauze and tape and things, but I'll do what I can. You sure you don't want to go visit a modern hospital?

"Gauze I have, here you go. And some linen strips to wrap with if need be, tape doesn't work very well in this shadow. Just doesn't stick." He hands Corwin a wad of gauze from the first aid kit in the bathroom. "And I think I'll pass on the modern hospital. It would hurt less, but it would take time, and I'd just as soon get to recovering. The pain will pass pretty quickly. Not the first time I've broken my nose." As Corwin gets ready to set the nose Roland centers himself...slow, deep breaths...clearing the mind, serperating it from the body...insulating it against pain. It works to some degree, he manages to get through the proccess with only a deep grunt of pain. After he breathes deeply, mentaly shrugging off the pain. "Thanks."

"Good stew." Damn good on short notice, glad I keep this place well stocked for cooking.

When the meal is done he pushes away his second empty bowl and reaches accross to the wine rack, selects a bottle of red and makes ready to open it. "Unless you'd prefer beer?" He sets out a couple of simple glasses and fills them both.

"So..." a small tired chuckle, "I don't even know where to begin."

[Wired*Nun]

"Why don't you begin by getting some sleep? The adrenaline and food will wear off soon, if not yet, and as soon as that wine hits you, you'll be asleep. Just tell me anything that might be critical, leave the rest." He salutes Roland with a glass of the red, and sits back, sipping. The warmth, the crackling of the fire, and the suggestion of sleep all hit Roland like a freight train. He's right...I'm wiped out...

[Shutter]

"Aye...Sleep would be nice...My bed is up in the loft, you're welcome to it. The couch and the fire are calling to me." He finishes the last of his wine and pushes back from the table, rising slowly on already creaking muscles. "As far as details...Nothing pressing that I need to tell you, far as I know. You though, could tell me one thing in case you disappear while I sleep." Walking to the couch, refusing to shuffle his feet and hang his head Ah, even now that pride is still there eh boy?


"The family doesn't seem to know where you are, they're curious. Do you have any wishes on their state of ignorance?" Lowering himself to the couch, Smoke layed to rest on the floor next to him, stretching his legs. Damn that fire feels good.

[Wired*Nun]

"Don't be silly. Sleep in your own bed. I'll hold the fort. As for where I am...they know I'm tending to my Pattern. That's all they need to know. Let me be the Flying Dutcheman of Amberites. Thus is a legend born. They don't truly know where Dworkin is either. So what. That's what you can say I said. Tell them whatever you like about where I was...just don't tell them anything important about what I'm accomplishing. Clear enough?" His smile takes any edge of this declaration.

[Shutter]

Roland replies through closed eyes, a look of contentment on his face as he soaks up the heat from the fire.

"...just don't tell them anything important about what I'm accomplishing."

He chuckles. "I don't have a clue what you're up to uncle. So no worries on that count yet." He opens his eyes and gives a tired grin. "But you can bet I'll be asking by morning. And there's no fireplace in the loft, so I'll be staying right here. I'm too tired to think of some rule of etiquette to exploit so I'll just fall asleep and leave it at that. G'night Corwin." His eyes close, his breathing deepens, and soon enough he's out.

[Wired*Nun]

"Night..." Corwin says softly. A sound that might be a chuckle dribbles down from the ladder as Corwin climbs it to the loft, and the last thing Roland remembers is the sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden loft floor. His sleep is a large, dark thing, a dozen hours long.

The sun wakes him, hitting the mantel, coming in through the opened curtains of the front window. Fresh food smells, plus coffee, give him incentive. His pleasure is at least doubled when he sees an enormous pot of water covering half of the kitchen stove, deducing it to be used for bathing.

"I checked out your plumbing, and I took the liberty of fiddling with it a little. Between you and me we can dump this fifteen gallons of hot water into the reservoir and each have a decent shower. Here, have some chow. That pitcher there has grog and strong tee mixed, probably about thirty proof. It will dull your nose some, if you don't mind drinking a little this early in the morning."

[Shutter]

Mmm...what time is it?..meh, want my nose back. I think I can almost smell...oh, yes indeed. Blessed coffee. Roland swings his legs off the couch and pads into the kitchen.

"Morning Corwin...That all sounds damned good. Thank you." He fills his usual mug with coffee, thankful once more that he leaves good beans in stock. Ah, the comforts of home.

"Hmm, grog and tea, better than I'd have expected. I'll remember this one...time to see if this guy still wants to bleed any I think." He heads into the bathroom to take the gauze out of his nose, a tender process to be sure, but breakfast is a sad time to be without the sense of smell.

Nose cleared but throbbing he sits down to feast. Compliments to the chef are delivered after the first few heaping mouthfulls. "Ah, that's the stuff." After his first plate is emptied he piles a bit more back on and begins to pick at it while he talks, slowly running through recent events at the Keep, leaving nothing out.

[Wired*Nun]

Corwin listens without comment. When they are done eating, he picks up the pitcher of tea and his mug, gets up, and sits down in a comfy chair by the fire, apparently expecting Roland to follow him.

"So...the eternal question...what are you going to do now? Exit, stage left? Do what the director tells you? Ad lib? It's your choice, you know. You may not want to be in this play. If you do, you may not like your role very much."

[Shutter]

Roland follows, picking the other armchair rather than return to the couch.

"That is the question isn't it?...I suppose I should report to Random and let him know what happened. I could assume that Benedict, or one of the folks who was ransomed has filled him in, but assumptions like that aren't always a good thing."

"Do what the director tells me?" He snorts derisively. "If he's feeding me lines he needs to speak up. One week ago I was riding around meeting women and looking for Ents. Now I find myself in the middle of a story that has been in the works for years...decades...Longer? Who are the principles and what do they want with me? Dara, may or may not have a bit of a vendetta with me for trying to kill her in the battle. Jasra and her family seem to have had from me the service they sought, are they done with me?" A shrug. "Random would undoubtedly find something for me to do, just to keep me out of the way and out of trouble until things settle down...." He trails off and stars into the distance for a moment.

"In the short term I'm going to lick my wounds, eat, heal, and train. There are some family tricks you and Merlin mentioned in your book that I would like to try out. I need to call some friends, make sure that they are all alright. I think they are, intellectualy it is a near certainty, but still..." These are Amberites...Not as fragile as shadowdwellers...These friends will be ok. "I want to be sure."

"What about you Corwin? I owe you a lot, and Landon, for coming to our aid at the Maze. If there is something I can do for you, chances are you just have to name it. I've bled enough for people who haven't earned it for the time being."

[Wired*Nun]

"I'm doing things for certain specific reasons, reasons that coincide with my interests. I'm not sure you know what your interests are - or where your loyalties lie. Your friends? You family? The betterment of the universe? Peace on Earth, good will toward men? You gotta decide fundamental things before you start on specifics. Let me give you an example," he says.

"Do you figure your obligation to yoru father overrides that to the King? If so, why would you go to Random or Flora first? Go tell Julian, let him filter it...if you trust him to do that. Or, if your friends are primary, then give the State just enough to keep out of your way, and get on with furthering their interests. I know what my interests are...always have, even when I've regretted them later. One thing we all do when we're young, probably, is jump in to 'help' too quick, getting into other people's business directly. It's also the urge to 'do something', I understand that. You just gotta decide what you want to accomplish with what you do. Like, this time has been nice, and I appreciate the help in damage control at the Keep, but right now, it's time for me to move on, get back to my stomping grounds. If something else comes up where I need a strong arm, I'll let you know, and vice versa, but unless you want to become a watchmaker with me, I've got to get back to tinkering with the clocks, soon." Roland realizes that perhaps there is something more, but Corwin is giving him a big out. Probably doesn't need dabblers...jump in, or wait by the side of the pool for a while? Maybe I ought to talk it over with someone I trust before anything...

[Shutter]

"I can answer most of that readily enough in theory, there's a lot of time to think when you're alone on the road as I'm sure you know." Really no need to explain any element of philosophy to this man...

"...Peace, harmony...a just existence relatively free from cruelty and malice for as many as possible. But I would go mad if I sent myself Shadow to Shadow righting wrongs and establishing benevolent regimes. My sense of it is that if things are right at the poles, things will go well in between..." He looks at Corwin, hoping for some sign, a nod, anything to indicate that the older, hopefully wiser, Amberites have found this guess to be more or less accurate.

Sign or no he carries on for a bit. "So that is what I will work toward while I can. In practice though I find myself ill-informed. I've heard the family ghost stories, I know that trouble comes in all shapes and sizes, from all quarters. So I'll do what I can, here and there, pokes and prods..." He sighs deeply, clearing the fuzz out of his brain. "But I'm rambling...If that sounds like the line of work you're in, I'd like to hear more, I'd probably like to help if I can. If you need to go now, maybe give me a call in a couple of days? Once I'm back in shape." He cocks an eyebrow, trying not to feel like a little boy asking his uncle to play with him.

[Wired*Nun]

"It's easy to right the wrongs in front of you. It's harder to theorize what is really wrong with the universe...and there's a risk in treating causes instead of symptoms - just like in medicine. Treating symptoms is safe. Treating causes might even kill the patient if you screw up too bad. In any case...it can piss people off...I think I just ran out of metaphor. You ever study economics at all? Ahh...never mind. I'm not making a lot of sense. Listen, Roland, I have to get back to my home. I'll call you if there's anything I think of." He stands, opening his Trump case as he does. "So long, Roland."

Rainbow.

[Shutter]

"Been good to meet you Corwin."

Where indeed are my prioties he thinks as Corwin fades out in a rainbow. Closing his eyes he sends his awareness out into this shadow, checking the time flow and making sure that he can nudge it as he pleases. If he can he'll keep it going as rapidly as possible then get out his Trumps and begin to make a few calls.

First up is Julian. Dad...Wonder what you'll say about this mess.

He looks at the card, focuses and extends...

[Wired*Nun]

The contact comes quickly. Julian is mounted, armed and armored, and Morganstern snorts and tosses his head, almost as if he can feel the changing of his master's mental state. Why almost? He probably can...

Holding up his hand to unseen others, then lowering it, he says with a slight sardonic twitch, "Good to hear from you, son. You look a bit worse for wear. Sure you don't want some better armor?"

[check your gm comms too]

[Shutter]

Again with the armour sales pitch...


"Aye...Beginning to think you might have something there about the benefits of full armour. I ran into a pretty sturdy Chaosite....Shall I give you the condensed version, or has much news already made it to you?"

[Wired*Nun]

"No, I don't talk to Flora unless I have to. I just heard that there was a certain disagreement at the Keep, and that some Chaosites have moved in to take over. Personally, I'm not terribly concerned. Until and unless our ruling cabal thinks it's a serious issue, I am content to keep to my realm. There are a dozen shadows as interesting and important as that one. But I am glad to see you well."

[Shutter]

"And I you."

"Yes, we had a bit of a land grab. Hendrake took over the Keep, we got our asses kicked. Out numbered and vastly out organized. Benedict arrived, with Siodmak's head, and ransomed us. I had a bit of cleaning up to do, and then got some unexpected help in making my exit....I won't hold you to saying nice things about me in the void though."

[Wired*Nun]

Laconically, he responds, "I'll climb that bridge when I come to it, I suspect. Anything I can do other than validate your faith in paternal meddling? It's a nice day in Arden today, you could come riding. Ahh, well, it's mosttimes a nice day in Arden..."

[Shutter]

I wonder if he got that reference to Corwin...Dad seems a little detached. Could be a front....bah, like trying to outguess the wind.

"Thanks for the offer, give me a day or two to heal up and I'll take you up on it. Right now I need to give Flora my report...Talk to you again soon." If there's nothing else he breaks contact and moves on to Flora's Trump.

Maybe I'll be immune to the sexy if it's through a Trump... He wonders with an inward groan as he turns up the card and begins to extend for contact.

[Wired*Nun]

A sharper look, skeptical. "You owe her something? Do what you must, for the Crown, but remember, her personal and professional interests are inseparable. She never stops taking, and all gifts come with strings." This seems to finish his diatribe, unless one counts a shifting in his saddle, as if to find an impossible comfort, and the conversation as well. His mailed hand raises in farewell, reminding Roland of the question of armor.

The contact with Flora comes without difficulty. She is indoors, and there is a darkened doorway at her back, a cloak around her shoulders. Still, her face is perfectly painted, and she seems relaxed, if vigilant.

"Roland," she says, palming what looks to be a Trump and putting it away. "What a pleasant surprise." This seems to be a sincere sentiment, though one always must ask 'why.' "I was just chatting with a cousin of yours; no one so, oh, I don't know, charismatic as you are." That...that...

[Shutter]

Bah, so much for that idea...

He smiles despite himself. "Hello again Aunt. I'm not sure how much has reached your ears yet, but I may have a bit of an update on recent events at the Keep." If she hasn't heard yet he gives her the basic rundown of how things went at the Keep. Not a blow by blow, but a concise retelling that gets all the important details. When it comes time to talk about Corwin and Landon he simply says, "Luke needed a sorcerer so I Trumped Landon, he arrived and the two of them were able to manage something. They and the Maze were gone in a few moments, at that point I Trumped out to clean myself up and clean my wounds...And there it is. Have Raevyn and Kat made it back to Amber yet?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I believe they have both been here recently, and departed." She is speaking very quietly, as if in danger of being overheard. "I'm sorry I don't know where, though I believe Raevyn and Gerard are still intent on finding Joss' murderer, so they may be together working on that. Anything else I can...help you with?"

[Shutter]

"No, I have what I need for the time being. I just wanted to give the Crown an update on the Keep. And to let you know that I'd seen Landon, last I heard he'd vanished a few days ago....On that note, if you have no further need of me, I will be on my way." He finishes with a slight bow. Ever the dutiful little minion

[Wired*Nun]

"Landon is all right, you could probably reach him if you needed to. Thank you for your consideration, and the Crown thanks you." That last, with a sardonic twitch of her lips. "Need, no...you may go." An impish grin. "Ta-ta, write often, send money!" Even the last is quiet, and she drops the contact.

[Shutter]

Roland inclines his head in farewell, then shuffles the Trump back into his deck. He leans back on the couch, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Tension finaly is beginning to fade a bit.

Alright...everyone made it out. Minimal lasting harm perhaps...And I find I have time to myself.

[Shutter]

When his wounds are reduced to scars, and his nose breathes clearly once more Roland sets upon the upkeep of his cabin. Hinges are oiled, firewood is chopped, a porch step is mended. On a two day trip he hikes to the small town a few shadows over picking up a supply of dry goods, rice, beans, flour etc. There's enough cured meat in the cellar to last another dozen years he figures.

When the cabin has been properly provisioned and mended he gathers up some traveling supplies in his satchel, opens his sketchbook turning to the monastery he grew up in. Home. He focuses and extends....

[Wired*Nun]

Regan seems the same, timeless...but still, they say you can't go home again, and there is something different. No, it's me, I'm sure...this place is timeless.

A voice from behind, so familiar. "I knew you would come back, son." Turning...

"Father Tibrone!" He looks the same, with a little more weather. Strong hands, an artist's hands, martial and otherwise....

"None other, though with a few more years on me I suppose." He stands with a rake in his hands, leaning on it a little, and Roland is once more reminded of the fleeting nature of life, especially Shadow life...no wonder Josh keeps his friends alive as long as he can...I wonder what I can do in that regard?

"Come inside, we'll have some tea." Handing the rake to an acolyte, they tread the familiar path into the monastery, past the statues of the Ascended Ones and into the main hall. Taking a pot of water from the stove and some tea leaves from the basket, two cups from the shelf, everything in common, everything shared...a deep yearning overtakes him for a moment, a desire to forget the complications and come back here...the simple life...

Seated across from Roland at the end of the rough table, away from others, Tibrone wraps his rough hands around the stoneware cup and blows on the hot brew. He gazes over the rim, through the wisps of steam, and into Roland's eyes, as if to say, "All right, son, I'm here. What now?"

[Shutter]

Where to begin?...He likely knows why I'm here better than I do. Roland accepts the tea with a bow of thanks, and settles in to sip with his mentor. A wry smile sneaks up. Tibrone...always leaving me to speak first, always knowing what I'm going to say before I do....

"I was hoping I could stay with the Order again for a while Father." Without planning to he verbaly sketches an outline of recent events, light on detail, heavy on theme. I wonder how much he knows about Shadow, about Amber? "...In short, I'm here for rest, refuge, quiet thought, and a bit of hard labour if you have any need of it."

[Wired*Nun]

"Sounds like an exciting life you lead. Mine is exciting enough for me...and of course you can stay, as long as you like, and of course, there is always work to be done, for those who live by the sweat of their brow. Your father never liked to get his hands dirty...I'm glad to see you're not like him in that way. But you are like him in another way...the doer, rather than the thinker. Thinking takes time, Roland. Take the time. Take your time. Your way ahead will point to itself, in time." Ironic, coming from one whose time is measured in years and teaspoons, rather than centuries and shadows...

[Shutter]

Roland nods, letting the tea soothe away the sting to his pride. He's right of course, I'm too rash more often than not. But things are in motion now and I need more time. He closes his eyes for a moment, extending his senses and speeding the flow of time in Regan, faster and faster until the shadows beyond are at a crawl. Better. Opening his eyes he looks over at his mentor and smiles slightly. "Astute as ever....Perhaps I'll learn my lesson yet. Care for a game of chess?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Chess it is, then." Searching in a cabinet along the wall, he comes up with a well-worn board and pieces. Setting them down on their table, they set the pieces up, white and black. Tibrone draws the white, and opens with a classical Sicilian which soon turns into a slashing attack on Roland's queen side as he has mistakenly exposed an avenue of attack.

"I have a feeling your mind isn't entirely on this game, though that's understandable. Sometimes the best insights come when thinking about other things...except in chess, of course." Roland manages to stymie Tibrone's attack, barely, and the game settles down into a defensive match from Roland's side, trying to claw back from a knight down.

[Shutter]

While they play Father Tibrone catches Roland up on the news from Regan over the past few years. Deaths and births, weddings and borderwars, life seems to be moving on at its usual pace. When the game is finaly done and Roland tips his king in defeat Again he bows out of Tibrone's study, making his way through familiar corridors to his rooms.

Home again, maybe I've changed but it feels quaint now, almost contrived...but ah I do love it here... With surprising ease he finds himself settling into the patterns of his old life. Time passes.

[Wired*Nun]

...and passes. How long? Only the Shadows know...but eventually he feels as if he ought to do something other than raising plump tomatoes and working on his swordcraft...

[Wired*Nun]

Roland receives a Trump call from Landon [go ahead without me]