Tonight We're Ganna Party (Winnow, Mint, and Kieran)

On the day of the night of Crown Prince Llyr's Birthday Ball in Rebma, tailors and seamstresses bump around the castle, getting sundry individuals ready for the Event. As circumstances would have it, neither Fergus nor Winnow have yet been introduced to a brother and sister set, the children of long-deceased Eric. Fergus has been shown the tomb Random had constructed for Eric, of black and red marble--quite close to a cetotaph for Deirdre in black and gray.

But today, he has his latest outfit on and looks at himself in a mirror when he hears a knock on the door. When he opens it, Winnow stands before him.

Fergus has on an outfit of mauve and gold suitable for the environs of Rebma which seems to contain the illusion of twisted puple and gold ropes meeting in the centre.

"Ah friend Winnow do come in. I am afraid I had to allow the servants to make this for me due to expediency." Fergus points to his new clothes. "When I fled the Nexus I only had the clothes you saw me in and well it is not sanitory to continually wear the same outfit forever. I must confess to not having the skills to make this myself, though I did insist on performing some of the manual labour in preparing the fibres."

The room is otherwise immaculate and almost looks unlived in if it weren't for the table with a curious looking box and a large number of tools neatly lined up on one side.

"I have something to show you. I've been working on it ever since we went to the pattern that day. When Random said that cameras don't work here I was intrigued as to why this may be. Indeed my initial conclusion was that he was correct. However I have spent some time working with photographic films and adjusting the formula. It seems that the chemical composition of most normal film is at fault here and the propeties that they normally exhibit do not manifest themselves here. Alas the device I have created is still quite primitive but is functional. Would you like me to take your picture?"

Winnow is already dressed for Rebma - in exactly the same manner as he was dressed before. Between his armor and his sarong, he is ready for any environment that does not freeze or flame.

I am afraid I had to allow the servants to make this for me due to expediency.

"Glad to see you have..." recognized the impracticality of your neuroses "taken a more pragmatic attitude," Winnow says with a smile.

I must confess to not having the skills to make this myself, though I did insist on performing some of the manual labour in preparing the fibres."

By that logic you should not live in the palace unless you laid some stones, nor take a bath without doing some plumbing to earn it.

Would you like me to take your picture?

"Absolutely not," Winnow says immediately, without thought.

That was not conducive of harmony. Foolish to antagonize him, he's well-meaning.

"I mean...your pardon for my rude response, but let me ponder it for a while. Given the power of images in Amber, I would like to understand the process better before I am subject to it. Please explain how it works?"

Fergus is taken aback a bit by the strongly negative reaction to taking a picture. He reminds himself that Winnow does not come from a place where such things are commonplace and tries not to take offensive.

"The process, ah well it may take some time to explain fully about the diffraction of light, so I'll try and keep it reasonably simple. The principle of the thing is that light waves coming from an object can be captured on a special piece of filmic paper to present an accurate version of an image of something. Its a bit like capturing the natural light to make a picture of something. Now my camera here is quite primitive using a pinhole to focus the image which will appear on the film upside down. I have already tested it with a trump and I can tell you now that you cannot capture a trump image on film. It just comes out blurry. I don't know why yet and that's probably something I want to take a look into next. The upshot is that all it will do is produce a lifelike painting of you and fairly quickly. You'll need to stand still in front of it for about a minute but that's all I'll need to do. I'd be quite interested actually to see if your magic armour interferes with the image in some way."

Fergus hardly takes a breath during his entire explanation. Its obvious to Winnow it is a subject he is interested in and has spent much time thinking about recently.

Winnow listens with interest, but then shakes his head, a clear negation.

"I am not going to subject myself to some mystic capture of my image using a new and untested device. Perhaps after you have tested it on inanimate things, then plants and animals. And I will consult with our elders. What if your device caused a threat to Amber itself? What if its images opened doorways to evil? You want to bring shadow sorcery into Amber, and though I have been told we are safe from such things, I also heard the tale of how Amber was safe from chemical explosives until Prince Corwin found something that functioned, and now these fire-powder weapons are a monopoly of the Crown."

Winnow stares broodingly at the box on the table, his hands twitching a bit, as if he wants to smash it, before he clasps them behind his back.

"In any case, we are commanded to attend an event for political purposes in Rebma. You have not been to Rebma before so the time we now have is all the time you have to prepare. And you would do well to be prepared. The subtle differences of Rebma can add up to cause more problems than you might expect, especially since you are not accustomed to the vicissitudes of Shadow."

Winnow goes on to explain the basics of Rebma - the enchanted waters, the look, the presence of watery wildlife and what little he knows of Rebman royal politics and relationships. Winnow's view is obviously colored by the belief that Rebma is, or should be, subordinate to Amber, and any claim of equality based on posession of a functioning Pattern is overreaching.

I also heard the tale of how Amber was safe from chemical explosives until Prince Corwin found something that functioned, and now these fire-powder weapons are a monopoly of the Crown.

I think I will file this interesting titbit under information that may be of interest later to my experiments. There are obviously some chemical reactions that work here and some that don't.

Fergus forces himself to listen to a lecture on Rebma's politics which although has potentially useful information is not of immediate interest. Eager to get back to talking about his camera he changes the subject again.

"There's no mysticism involved in it P-o-a Winnow. Its not even technology as such as there's even no electronics in it. I have already tested it on inaminate objects and myself. I believe I have the pictures filed away in a drawer if you'd like to see them. Its quite safe I assure you. These devices are used extensively in the Nexus, although they are much more advanced than this one. "

Yes, and poisonous reptiles are common on Tagaloa. That does not mean we should loose them in Amber. And how can there be nothing mystic if it captures an image without painting or graving it? How does he know there is not really a little demon in it, scribbling away?

"Do as you wish with the thing for yourself. Just do not turn it on me yet." That seems to settle the matter for Winnow; he will speak no more of the picture-box now.

"So you seem to be garbed appropriately; let us be off. There are carriages waiting for us."

Winnow opens the door to the hall, waiting while Fergus finishes whatever last-minute preparation he has. He then leads them out the main entrance to the front courtyard, where he expects to see a bustle of carriages, footmen, servants and escort cavalry.

Hopefully there is something comfortable for somone of my build...

Fergus sighs at Winnow's technophobia.

"Very well I pomise not to use it on you Winnow. I was going to bring the camera but I don't think that it will will wok underwater so I think I'll leave it."

Fergus has nothing else he needs to do so he quickly follows Winnow down the corridoors. Curious Fergus asks a question of his friend as they approach the carriages.

"Do you know much of the other cousins I will meet tonight. I have heard whispers from the my friend Jorge that there are two strange twins who arrived recently claiming to be the offspring of Uncle Eric. There's also Random's son Martin and someone called Mint that I've heard of."

The Chief steward had decided that given Fergus' rejection of most of the servants he had sent to Fergus' room to try and get revenge on his by assigning the laziest most useless servant in the Palace to him. Instead of throwing a fit Fegus had been pleased about not being fussed over and now when Jorge had shown up Fergus had spent time talking with him and making Jorge tea instead of him doing any real work. An arrangement that had suited both to a tee.

Fergus wrote:Instead of throwing a fit Fegus had been pleased about not being fussed over and now when Jorge had shown up Fergus had spent time talking with him and making Jorge tea instead of him doing any real work. An arrangement that had suited both to a tee.

OOC - nicely punned sir!

He is not your friend, you fool. He will simply lose respect for you as you lower yourself. Not that this situation cannot be made useful.

"You are more aware of the palace gossip than I, Poa Fergus. Perhaps your befriending the help will do some good in the gathering of intellegence."

"I have heard the barest mention of these Kier people. Mint I know as Julian's, either daughter or protege. Or both. Solid. Knows her duty." He smiles broadly. "Loyal to Amber." Winnow stares sharply at Fergus for a moment, as if in question, then climbs into the carriage.

Fergus climbs into the carriage alongside Winnow. He considers Winnow's stare for a moment, shrugs and decides that it's probably something to do with Winnow's disapproval of Fergus' work ethic.

So Mint is a female cousin then. Couldn't get that fom the name, always thought it was a herb.

"Kier is that the name of their race or their surname?"

Fergus looks out of the window to check their route. No sense in having the coachman wait up for them as he could bring it back once he knew where they were going.

I mustn't get too used to the idol life, else I will start slipping like Winnow.

As the coach gets ready to leave, a tall handsome man with black hair, clad in blue and white, paces next to his own carriage. He looks impatient. Winnow of course recognizes him as Caine. He gives every impression of waiting for someone who is late.

Caine...I wonder why he wears my colors today? His own green and black are more seemly.

Winnow glances down briefly at his own attire.

I must be on my guard...all those warnings from Gerard, he should know...this is the first event of its kind I have attended. Does it mean something? And Fergus...he is a babe in the woods.

Winnow will wait and watch, uncertain if they will be in convoy or separate. He is content to let protocol take over.

"Kier, is that the name of their race or their surname?"

"I believe they say 'The Kier', like a title...more than that I do not know. Customs in shadow vary."

Winnow wrote:
"I believe they say 'The Kier', like a title...more than that I do not know. Customs in shadow vary."

More empty meaningless titles. Why do they persist in using such to pump up their own importance?

Fergus settles back into the seat and still keeps his eyes on the road outside so he can recognise the way back.

"And the other cousins friend Winnow. You have been around hee for a year now what do you know of them or is that all of them?"

"I have met Mint, and one called Reena. Wild thing of Prince Caine's. Another of Caine's called Aiden, a capable seaman I met briefly. There is Martin, who is King Random's son but not yet heir...given the longevity of us all, there seems no need to designate heirs here, but rather, they leave it to a power struggle if the King falls. Or to the Unicorn."

Rather suddenly, Fergus might realize, Winnow seems detached, on the outside of the situation.

"He's much older...I get the impression he might be as much as one hundred years, and is rumored to have contacts even in the Courts of Chaos." Winnow's eyes narrow and he frowns briefly, something a bit unusual for him.

"Then there are the Rebmans...Triton, Lyr and Alexander. Children of their shadow-queen Moire. I can't recall who their parents of the Blood are...or maybe I am misrecalling..." he muses.

Fergus listens intently to the very brief descriptions of the other cousins. There was plenty of information in the library on the survining elder members of the family and even some on the missing and dead members, but there was little of none on those sons and daughters of the elders. Winnow's explanation only added a little knowledge to the miniscule amount he already knew.

"My thanks for sharing that Winnow. I must confess that I am not used to social situations. At the ball that I attended last week I mostly hid in an alcove and only Aunt Flora and Uncle Benedict came to see me. Whilst Flora talked at length I got eight words out of Benedict and felt lucky to get those. He's not much of a talker is he?"

Fergus keeps looking out the window of the coach to get a fix on directions. He still cannot get over the landscape outside, so different from his prison.

Winnow grunts, impatient with the gathering of the carriages without motion.

"No, Prince Benedict is not much of a talker. Forgive me if I imitate him here." Winnow dismounts from the carriage ponderously, tired of waiting, to walk over to Caine.

The weeks I sailed with him condescending to Captain and me Lieutenant pay some dividends now.

Winnow bows briefly.

"Highness. What keeps us? Sooner begun, sooner ended, yes? Has it something to do with our matching outfits?" He chuckles and gestures at the correlation between their clothings.

Fergus watches as Winnow dismounts from the coach and heads over to a stange man dressed in the same colours as himself. It is probably one of his men that he must give last minute orders to.

I have a foreboding about tonight

I am with family what could go wrong?

I DID just read the family history last week!

Caine looks at Winnow, distracted. "We're waiting for Julian. Tell you what, though--the rest of you go ahead." He shrugs a little. "This event is more for your generation than mine, anyway. Ever been to Rebma?"

He doesn't want to address the odd colors he is wearing. That in itself might be significant.

"Yes, briefly. It was part of my introductions around. Skipper - " the title pops out of his mouth without thinking much about it, " - ah, Your Highness, frankly I'd rather wait, if it's all the same. Perhaps I could look him up for you? I'd be happy to take a walk..."

Perhaps I can contrive to have someone else to talk to than Fergus today...

Just then, Flora comes out of the castle, looking utterly beautiful and totally desirable as ever.

"I want to get going," she says to Caine, with a smile and a nod to Winnow. "As far as I'm concerned, Julian will show up when he wants. Or not.

Caine gives a gesture as if to say I'm Not Stopping you. Flora slips her arm into Winnow's. "Let's go," she says. "I've been dying for a real chat with Fergus and this'll be a perfect opportunity."

Fergus spots Flora heading over to Winnow. Once again she is looking like a starlet from one of the holo-vids. He had now seen her four times and every time she was looking immaculate. Did she possess some innate magic to do that?

She seems to be ordeing Winnow's soldier around. Good perhaps we can get started now.

As she strides back to the carriage, arm and arm with Winnow Fergus waves at her.

"Good evening Flora." he calls out politely "I see you are looking as beautiful as ever. Is there a problem with the coaches?"

When Flora comes up Winnow bows and kisses her hand as is the custom in these parts. He falls under her spell easily, as any young male might. Immortal he may be, but he has not yet reach thirty and cynicism when it comes to beautiful women has not yet been perfected.

Not even close.

When she takes his arm he remarks, "Chat with Fergus? I have the better part then," and pats her arm...carefully not being more familiar than he should, despite his blood involuntarily redistributing itself into his various body parts.

Intoxicating...be careful!

He will escort her to their carriage, and helps her in, only letting go of her hand reluctantly, then settles in beside her, so Fergus must sit across from them - the better to let her converse with Fergus, of course. After that, he will wait to speak.

Do not babble. Do not make a fool of yourself.

"Oh, Julian is just running late. He does that sometimes," says Flora as she sinks into a carriage seat. "We'll just go on ahead." Then she gives two firm knocks on the carriage wall. On cue, the driver gives a command to the horses and the carriage begins to move.

"I like your colors," says Flora gazing at Fergus' new clothes.

"Designed to match my eyes. I'm not much into undestanding the aesthetics of such things though I'm afraid as I wore what I was given in the prison."

Flora's manner was calm and easy, but in many respects Fergus considered that she was much more dangerous than most of the uncles he had met. She was the youngster of the family, unable to compete in matial arms or magic from what he'd read, but she had developed a far more potent method of getting her way. Winnow seems to be already under her spell and they had only just re-aquainted themselves. Beautiful and charming she was indeed, but Fergus could not understand why the primitive mating rituals held such sway over men in the holo-vids. They had often done some quite stupid things in the name of love as though someone had cast magic upon them. Not logical at all.

"Now I wish that I had brought my new camera with me so that I could take your picture Aunt Flora. I did not think to have the opportunity before going down to Rebma. Such beauty should be preserved eternally."

Fegus however was not above a bit of flattery and he had heard that Flora was not above receiving it.