Respect Is Due (The Kier)

In a small valley very close to the castle, overlooking the sea but surrounded by trees, stand three tombs. All have a similar design. A rectangular slab, of polished marble, and rising from it a seven-foot memorial stone.

The grandest of the three, topped with a crown, is pure white but with pillars of green marble. A unicorn is carved in tribute, while a single name: O B E R O N can been seen carved deep into the memorial. Below his name is one word: K I N G

Second is of gray and black marble. It reads D E I R D R E and below that the words B E L O V E D S I S T E R.

Finally, in magnificent black and red marble, the words in gold reading E R I C and below that H E R O O F A M B E R.

It is a beautiful spot, where sky and sea and mountains make for a fantastic view, to which is added towers of mighty Castle Amber. Before leaving for the grand ball, where they can confidently expect to meet more royalty, the Kier have come to see their father's final resting place.

Kierenne is torn between approaching somberly in respect for the departed, and dashing ahead in her excitement. In the end, she breaks down and runs ahead of her brother to the tombs.

As she enters the clearing and spots the stones, she slows again, finally stopping an arm's length from the tomb of her father. Somehow, the moment is empty for her. As Kieran steps up behind her, she leans back into his arms. "Is this all? Do we get all the way to Amber, only to stand before cold stones? This is our Father?"

"I find myself unsatisfied with this outcome."

"Do you hear me, Father? This is not enough. You should greet us with open arms. Hug us close and tell us how you'd wished you could have been there for us, if only you'd known." She glances up at the picturesque view of Castle Amber. "Instead, you died for another. You loved Amber more than you loved us, and you died for her. But we should expect no less from the Hero of Amber. And I suppose we should have expected nothing more from you, either."

She turns away from the tomb to hold her brother. "I don't know what I expected here. Something? Nothing?"

Following his sisters sprint to the tomb, he stops just behind her, encircling her from behind in his arms delicately.

"I had expected more. A simple tomb, adorned in his colors, declaring a hero?" Holding Kierenne tighter "He was King, Leader, and much more than just a Hero."

Hearing her words, Kieran shudders once, a tear leaking from one eye to disappear behind the mask, his voice dropping towards disappointment, "Father, we stand before you. All the stories of Amber, and King Eric, everything you worked to build here seems...inadequate for one of your upbringing."

As she turns into him he holds her tightly. "Your legacy left behind, we dwell in it's shadow, a shadow in Amber."

He leans his masked face towards her mask, the lips of the masks touching, he says softly "Love, once again, we are all we have. Father gone, Grandfather gone, Kier gone, and Father's siblings playing their games. We are above their petty intrigues."

To himself What will be left when we are gone? Children of a King, a simple tomb, Fathers colors, and what simple words left in our wake?

Gazing on her shoulder towards Father's grave, there needs to be more than just this left behind...

"What am I missing?" Kierenne paces around the tombs. "It doesn't feel real. That's what it is. But Father's body is supposed to be in there, yes? The other two are just memorials, but he died here and was buried. Maybe if I see him. See what's left?"

The girl considers her father's tomb, and how best to open it without destroying the stone.

"Your father's memorial" says a voice from behind them, "is all around you." The turn and see a thin man clad in orange, yellow and brown. He lanky hair somehow matches the bright intensity of eyes, like black diamonds. The way he moves as he approaches faintly recalls the confident stances of a master martial artist. He does nothing whatsoever even vaguely threatening. Yet something about him indicates a potential for danger. Like a predator, but one without cruelty and not at all hungry.

"Eric died preserving the ground you walk upon, the sky above you, the sea there below, and every single life on this as well as a thousand thousand other worlds. If I should end my days in the same manner then I'll be more than satisfied. This," he indicates the tomb, "is but a marker of his resting place. Were it twice the size of Kolvir itself it would not make his achievement any less great. And good. And profound. As for opening my brother's crypt--" Here he gives a look that does promise violence--and supreme competence at wielding same, undistracted by any sense of fun, "--my condolences you were not present at his funeral. But I will not allow you to violate his tomb. I. Will. Not. Allow. That."

Cowed by his intensity, Kierenne turns slightly sullen. "I didn't mean to violate anything. Just to... get closer to the real him." She waves her hands at the clearing, seeming to encompass all of Amber in the process, "This all tells me nothing about him. He died. He did his duty to Amber. That's the mark it left on him. But what of him is left for us?"

"If it's not in there," she gently kicks at the stone tomb, "will you show us the ghost of our Father?"

Benedict turns his intensity down a notch. "I'm sure Random can arrange a private viewing of your father should you request it." Then he pauses for a moment.

"You seem," he says, "to need some visceral sense of your father. Something concrete. The problem, for you, is that Eric died years ago and there's no bringing him back. What's needed is something to fill whatever Eric-shaped hole you feel in your lives. I'm willing to help. Most of us are, for that matter. But figuring out what you need can't be done by anyone but yourselves."

"We don't even know the shape of the hole. That's the first step. Define him for us, and then we can say goodbye."

And suddenly, Amber represents a great opportunity... see what drove him, what inspired him. To walk in his footsteps. "Thank you Uncle. We would welcome whatever memories of Father you have. And then I believe we have a ball to attend."

Benedict thought for a moment. "I suppose in many ways he was a great man. Like most great men, the flaws loomed as large as his virtues. Mostly the former was his vanity. Easier, of course, when you've plenty to be vain about. But after many years of contemplating it, here's what I believe defined your father more than any other. He and Corwin loathed each other since childhood. One day the two of them went off somewhere. The idea, or so Corwin later claimed, was a mutually agreed decision that one would kill the other. As it happened, Eric won. Then, given the opportunity and the rules of the childish game the two were playing, in the end he did not murder Corwin. Almost no one believed him of course. Certainly father did not, and held it against Eric for year after year after year. We all hoped, though, Eric told the truth when he said Corwin yet lived. Some of us went looking for him. But when Father vanished, and Eric moved to establish his regency, one thing more than any other made it possible. Most of us trusted him, enough anyway. Whether we believed his story, his actions day after day showed him to be a man who might be telling the truth about Corwin--a man worthy of rule. Only Bleys and Corwin really objected very much. Well, and Deirdre. Those three--Eric, Corwin, Deirdre--had a strange relationship. As a result, when the crisis came, Amber was united. Corwin turned out to be alive, and played an essential role in saving the realm--which is to say, reality as we know it. And when Random moved against Eric, he was forgiven rather than executed--held, but not punished. In that he showed more wisdom than any of us foresaw."

Benedict raises one eyebrow. "You've a ball to attend. Enjoy it. Ask me what questions you will. Later. But I'll offer this to conclude--I didn't much like your father. But in the end, I found myself proud to be his kin. Not a lot of men earn that kind of epitaph."

"Thank you, uncle." Kierenne and her brother return to Amber and to the fitting people.

Would he have wanted to be liked, I wonder?

Now, let's talk neoprene. Head to toe, hands and feet, mostly black, hints of red, and a pure white mask.

The outfits prepared for the Kier Twins pretty much meet the specifications. By the afternoon, all preparations have been made and they are invited to join others to be brought by carriage to the entrance of the undersea kingdom.

Kierenne returns to their chambres in thought. But when they have to don the form fitting suits, it becomes a challenge.

"Oh, I feel so racy. Everything's hidden, but nothing really is."

Unless etiquette wouldn't permit it {GM Decision?}, she carries her same sword with her, this time slung low on her hip. It is a fine blade, handed down from generation to generation, crafted in the time before the sun was stolen from the Shadow Kier. It was one of four relics presented to the twins from their Grandfather upon reaching adulthood.

She and Kieran have matching arm bracers as well, but choose to display different faces from their masks.

Once alone, and sliding into their new ball apparel "That was Uncle Benedict. He gave us much to think on."

Adjusting a particular segment that is riding like nobody's business "Why would Father make peace with the Usurper? That I do not understand. Aunt Fiona claims Father was slain on Kolvir and there was peace between them. We must go there. Soon. Who alive witnessed this? Much as Father showed him mercy, sending him into shadow instead of slaying him as Uncle Benedict says, then again by only imprisoning him instead of slaying him. His right as King with a traitor, he showed him mercy twice. Twice."

Kieran fidgets with that particular spot riding and the seam towards the front, "Then on a third time, everything was ok? I'm skeptical to say the least."

Finally getting it comfortable, he stands, faces his sister, adjusting hood, gloves, accessories, and of course, mask. Securing the mask so that in the water it doesn't try to wander off, "After this ball, I want to see Father. Earlier was so empty. I refuse to believe that was all there is to this. The others must know something."

"Come Brother. Let us worry about Father and the Usurper later. When this is all done, we will walk amongst the people and ask them what really happened. There must have been soldiers present when Father heroically died defending Amber, as well as his siblings."

"But, there's fish-folk to meet. And I'm sure there are strange floating Rebman dances we will need to learn." She giggles. "Do you remember that shadow where they danced in pools, for those on dry ground could see? Only their legs or arms were visible at one time. I hope the Rebmans are more graceful than that."

Exeunt Alles -> attend the boarding of the carriages

Weapons are permitted, but bonded. It was explained to the twins that at a certain rank, individuals are assumed to be honorable. Hence they may bring swords and the like if they so desire. The bonding is symbolic, a way of demonstrating that the weapons are not intended for use. At the same time, they're easily broken. Just in case. But in practice, breaking the bonding takes an extra second or so, allowing anyone to cool down should tempers flare.

Both Amberite and Rebman courts don't seem to mind a little danger.

In the courtyard, numerous carriages await. The journey to Rebma's borders is to be something like a parade. Along the way down, the Kier come across Gerard, the muscle-rippling Prince they've met before. Rather oddly, he's not wearing his usual colors. Instead of his usual blue and gray, the man sports green and black. He takes a glance at their own outfits.

"Oh! Nice! Looks good and appropriate for Rebma."

OOC - Wait, have we met him before? Julian / Mint handed us to Fiona / Mint, who tooks us to the King directly. Benedict was at the tomb...

"Oh, don't worry. I hardly ever use this old thing. It's just symbolic." she says to Gerard, accepting the bond on her broadsword before they proceed. She pauses to consider his attire, "Aren't you out of uniform? Those are Uncle Caine's colors, I believe."

"I don't think they suit you as well."

[OOC - several days have passed. You've been given tours of the castle, enough to see just how identical it is to "your" castle. Your grandfather's room was Oberon's old office, btw. The locked room is Deirdre's old bedroom. The local chefs have taken great pride in presenting you with a variety of different meals, so you sampled many different cuisines. Turns out one of the castle's top chefs still feels great affection for Eric. So you've met Julian, Fiona, Random, Vialle, Flora, Caine and Gerard, and Benedict earlier today. Corwin is off who-knows-where. Rumor has it Bleys got back last night.]

"You're right," says Gerard with a sigh. "Earlier today all my clothes changed color. Too late to have something made. So, I make do."

As they enter the courtyard, Caine is waiting next to a carriage. He is dressed in blue and gray. The two brothers look at each other for a few moments.

"Keg of Bayle's best it was Fiona."

Gerard nods. "No bet," he says.

"Well," continues Caine, "would Eric's long lost children like to ride with me? Julian is taking his own sweet time."

"I can wait for him," Gerard says. He looks at the Kier. "You're welcome to go with Caine if you want."

"Why, thank you for the invitation. We would be most honored." She pauses while both of them are still nearby. "Uncles, might I have a scrap of what each of you is wearing? I always enjoy a puzzle, and I'd like to see what I can find about this change. It may be nothing, but it amuses me. Maybe I'll even be able to impress Aunt Fiona.

"And you both say these are your original clothes... you recognize the items as genuine, except that the colors are changed? Or could this just be an entirely mundane case of someone making off with all of your clothing and leaving behind clothes that fit but of different colors?"

Kierenne raises the Pattern in her mind, and tries to inspect whatever items Caine and Gerard hand her.

"My entire wardrobe?" Caine lifts an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"Mine as well," confirms Gerard. "But, here." He hands over a glove from his belt. With a sigh, so does Caine.

Nothing about the Pattern here. More likely...sorcery? A spell? To what aim?

Caine opens the door to his carriage. "Flora, Winnow and that new fellow--Fergus--they went ahead. You two coming?" He smiles as he says this, a roguish and somewhat sinister smile that strangely seems pretty friendly for all that.

"Oh, poot. I'd hoped to meet our cousins before the ball proper."

OOC - Book says I can use the Pattern to enhance my visual perception, especially of magical phenomena. If I see nothing,that's fine. I'm hoping to see that it was a spell that changed the colors, and perhaps to be able to repeat / reverse the process. But, barring that, to get a feel for the mystical "fingerprint" of whoever did this working.

"Uncle Caine... I'm curious about Rebma's relationship to Amber. Other than the mystical nature of their similar shapes, how do the two governing bodies get along? Moire has a child by Corwin the Ursurper... Random has a wife taken from Moire's people. Triton and Martin hale from there as well. And yet... I get the impression that, unlike the other nations in your "golden ring" or whatever it's called... they view themselves as vassal states to Amber. But it feels like Rebma does not, even though she is particularly influenced by events in Amber, who also shapes policy for most of those who trade with Rebma."

Thinking that was parhaps too much of a deep question this early in the day, she blushes under her mask. I ask because Grandfather had just started teaching us of the interchange of rulerships
between nations. I'm curious about what our welcome will be like.... and I guess I'm curious for reasons more relating to us being executed, but I doubt that would happen with Amber so close to Rebma.

By now it seems certain sorcery did indeed transform the colors in the clothing. Good guess--the same magic-user. Feels the same. But who? No reference for comparison.

"Dierdre also had a son there, name of Alexander," Caine notes. "The fact of the matter is, Amber and Rebma has a peculiar relationship. Entwined by independent, bound by blood to some extent. Llewella is Queen Moire's niece for example. Part of that's probably psychological, since the Rebmans don't like being compared to their more powerful neighbor. They certainly don't like any hint of being vassals! Neither do the Golden Circle states, for that matter. Sometimes with cause." He shrugs. "It helps that neither one can really threaten the other, while both can cause all kinds of mischief if they really want to. So Dad went along with treating Rebma as allies. Eric continued that policy. Then Corwin and now Random. Maximum benefit for all involved."

"Oh," he continues, "calling Corwin the usurper is fun and all, but some folks are bound to take offense. Technically, it isn't even true, since he never took the throne from Eric, only succeeded to the Regency. That is what the courts decided Eric's rule was--a Regency, while the real King was out of contact. couldn't be a new King until Oberon actually died. Anyway, up to you. Just thought you should know. Oh, and if Corwin shows up could you wait to call him the usurper until I'm around? It'd be great to see his reaction!"

Kierenne commits the scent of this sorcery to memory, in case she encounters this magician again later.

"But 'Corwin of Amber, the man who twice failed to usurp the throne from his brother Eric' just doesn't flow off the tongue as well, uncle." To herself, she adds Nor do I like 'Regent' over 'King' Eric of Amber.

That gets a steady roar of laughter from Caine. "Oh this gathering looks to be more fun than I'd thought!"

The carriage by now has left the city and is headed along the coast. Seagulls cries fill the air, while ships are visible on the waters.

Enjoy the ride. Admire the sky, with all of its grandeur, and the tricks of perspective possible when looking at far distant things (especially clouds). All the stuff in the foreground is just details... but nowhere else could she look upon infinity like when staring at the sky.

"What would be the proper title for the Usu, for Corwin then? So that we may avoid making errors that would be embarrassing, regardless of their truth?"

Looking over the water, to himself Those ships, mayhap those would be the answer that was missing at Father's.

Enjoy the ride, "History is wrote by the winners dear one. Usurper and Father made up, who witnessed it?"