Strangers in Strange Lands (the Kier and Creampuff)

Kieran appears next to his sister. He finds himself in an outdoor party, on land, in the evening. A large tent to his right contains dancers and musicians. Before him is what looks like a topiary garden of various creatures. To his left are a series of tables where lots of folks seem to be playing cards.

And beside him of course is his sister Kierrenne.

Some guests are giving them some stares. Only a few though. Most are concerned with their own business.

To maintain secrecy, Kierenne continues to communicate telepathically for the moment. The one you left behind appeared to be a friend. She invited me to this party. She brought out a container with a clay bird that flew off, probably to summon help. Later, she fell over and her monacle came off... she changed demeanor... warned me to flee this place, seeming genuinely afraid. She indicated that the mongrel over there in the bearskin was the source of the danger. Then she put the monacle back on, and reverted to the pleasant demeanor, which seemed to have no recollection of the exchange.

I threw her to you. I hope one of the useless cousins can incapacitate her; there might be information later. The mask has not warned me of danger, so this trap hasn't been fully set.

The two split apart and make their way towards the parti-colored eyes, as she continues to consider. The woman was waiting for me at the Shrine. The Shrine where Random sent me to wait for the others. Do you think she was waiting there for me on purpose? That would mean... she was set there before I was told to go. So Random or someone else must have set all this in motion days ago, and only told us about the errand when it was all in place. Who gave you the instructions that one of us would come here? They intentionally tried to split us up, too. Single us out, murder us one at a time, and blame it on catspaws in Begma. Religious fanatics, no doubt. Fringe elements, such a tragedy. There was probably a similar fate waiting for you in the Nexus.

As she works through all the "logic" of what is clearly an elaborate, if hastily thrown together, plot against them by their extended family, the masked girl grows more and more angry. One hand reaches queitly behind her to where her sword is still peace-tied from the Rebman ball. She unties the bond and loosens the sword in the sheath.

She approaches the bear-skinned man, hoping her brother is making his way through the party to do the same from a different angle.

Moving opposite his twin, he moves through the crowd, anticipating something fun happening, his mask melts and shifts.



Last I saw, Aunt Fiona had taken the monacle from the person after I threw them to the floor, a box also dropped but I didn't see who or what happened to it. If there was danger and you were in it, I didn't want to miss the festivities.

A sigh of contentment escapes him as the comforting feeling of shifted mask settles.

Replaying the conversation in his head, Maybe, it could have been set for either of us, since it was stated by Mint it would be our choice who ended up where, and that orders came down from Random and Florimel. Mint hinted that you'd be better suited to travel with her and Triton to Uberwald, leaving me to head to the Nexus. Fiona said I was being sent somewhere.

Flowing through the crowd, dropping into a more comfortable step, wary, How was it Mint had exact locations, while Fiona did not? I fear you maybe right, this maybe a trap.

Grinning he continues, Shall we dance this dance again mirror friend?

Ubervald? Mint sent us here to Begma. Could she have intercepted the King's orders, and sent us here instead? If I died in Begma, while the King was expecting me in Ubervald... there would be nothing to point back to Mint. I'm sure that's why she was late to the Ball, because she was busy setting up this ambush for one of us. If I hadn't come straight here, they'd be in position already. Oh, well done, cousin.

As they near the man at the quibble table, she slows to inspect him and those around him.

The man with two-colored-eyes in long dark robes of fur continues to watch the Quibble game. Within a minute or so, he turns and walks toward Kierrenne. Middle-aged, clean-shaven, he is distinctly on the thin side. "Young lady," he says as he approaches, his odd eyes intelligent and kind, but worried. If she allows him to get close enough he will say "I don't mean to be pry, but did you by any chance reveal to Branwen you were from Amber? If so, you really should leave."

"I told her I'd been to Amber. I never claimed to be from there. And why should I leave?" She gestures at the party going on around them, "What possible danger could there be here? This shadows idea of fun is mock duels." The scorn in her voice is hardly hidden at the idea of pretending to fight.

Kierenne moves closer to the man, clearly crossing the bounds of proper manners. Her left hand reaches forward, finger extended to poke the man in the shoulder with each question. "So, why did Branwen warn us about you? If we really should leave, is your ambush prepared outside the gates?" Her right hand is near the hilt of her sword, though she has yet to actually grip or draw.

"She warned you? You must have made a good impression then." He seems unperturbed by her poking. "But that warning was hardly about any danger I represent. Rather, her other employers almost certainly noticed you and have forces en route. That monocle? It allows them to monitor her every move--each sight and sound. And I fear, they are rather paranoid on the subject of Amber."

"Feh. Forces on the way? Let them come. The Kier does not breed cowards. Nor does it breed fools, to leave a smooth talking enemy behind them while facing his Forces."

As a signal to her brother somewhere behind the man, Kierenne quickly draws her sword and swings at the thin man's arms, hoping to sever at least one of his hands, preferably both.

If he's a caster, it should take him at least several minutes to re-attach his hands and regenerate them to usefulness before he can be a threat again. Take out his legs so he can't flee, please. When we're done with the Forces we can find out if he's really involved.

{OOC - Kieran is at work right now, so can't post to the forum with his response to me for a couple hours. David, can you hold off posting until he's had a chance to? We're coordinating via text right now.}

During the conversation, Kieran glides through the crowd, on the edge of readiness. Moving behind the man his twin is talking with...

On the signal, the bracer melts and forms into a sword the exact twin of Kierenne's. He then expertly swings aiming to take the man off at the knees.

If he's a caster, we can kick him in the face until he's down. We should know shortly. Let us dance love.

This should break the prude's trap nicely. Let them come.

The Twins' blades swing with unerring accuracy--and are stopped with a harsh clanging sound.

Armor. Beneath his dark fur robes this man wears preternatural armor, sufficiently powerful to blunt even these swords!

He opens his robes. From beneath them stream first dozens, then hundreds then seemingly thousands of tiny bats!

They swarm around the robed stranger and his immediate vicinity that neither of the Kier can see much of anything. The size of hummingbirds, these creatures are even faster and more agile. Striking them is devilishly hard and even when one falls, seemingly countless others take its place!

The party of course soon consists of screaming, stampeding people. A frenzied mob. Amidst the tumult, the cloaked man twirls around and a darkness spreads from the base of his cloak along the ground like inky, heavy fog. It reaches the feet of the Kier (this has taken less than one and a half seconds since they swung their blades) and they feel themselves drop...

Landing in a very strange place indeed.

A chilly, windswept area of rocks and trees, a cloudy sky and weird architecture nearby. Both Kieran and Kierrenne land on a steep slope dotted with rocks and weeds. The robed man with two-toned eyes has landed more precisely, atop a flat extension of rock.

Kieran and Kierrenne roll a bit as they land on the uneven surface. It takes moments for them to use their momentum to gain control, and brace themselves, then stand to look. By now the robed man is holding his robes open and the bats are flying back into the darkness under his robe.

"Headstrong and violent," he says. "A not uncommon combination, sad to say. I wonder what you think was going on back there? Never mind. You're safer where you are. This Shadow lies at the edge of a distortion layer. You probably don't know what that is. Not too many do. They aren't that common to tell the truth. I suspect you won't believe me if I tell you--but for what its worth the effects of Trump and even ordinary hellriding are subtly warped. For generations men have come here for exactly that reason. Yonder castle," he points, "is an outpost of same. I wouldn't mention unicorns here if I were you. But you'll do as you will no doubt."

All the bats are bat within his cloak and he wraps it around himself. Then the tendrils of inky blackness begin to form at his feet again. He stands ten yards from the twins and at least ten feet above. "Despite everything, Prospero wishes you well."

Shadows? Try to break his concentration, while I summon the sun.

Kierenne begins to summon another sunlight portal, this time several feet across, to obliterate the creeping tendrils of darkness before they can lead this Prospero from the world.

Agreed, I do not like him, nor this place.

Kieran utters a single word of Power to negate the caster's spell, "Noewe Prospero."

Before Kieran can make more than the first sound of his word, Prospero sinks into the ground and vanishes.

Kierenne curses in several languages, then raises the Pattern to her mind's eye, hoping to deduce something about Prospero's spell before it fades.

{OOC - I'm interested in what "subtly warped" means in the context of a Broken Pattern hellride, which is already supposed to be pretty dark and warped. Either we're totally hosed, or we're the only people who can move in and out of here as if nothing had changed.}

Stand guard while my twin attempts to find out what the flonq just happened. Sword at the ready.

What residual eddies and echoes remain show traces of extremely sophisticated sorcery woven in and around something partaking of Pattern. Immediate impression -- several artifacts of great power drawing upon many forces working in conjunction, done by someone with enormous skill. Kierrenne will realize -- for a moment anyway -- she's in the face of someone with far more power, knowledge and experience than herself. By an order of magnitude.

On the other hand, there's a distinctive style to what she perceives, almost a flavor, that she can certainly recognize if encountered again.

[OOC let me know if either of you approach the very spot where Prospero stood]

During the course of her inspection of the magical plane, Kierenne would indeed have approached the flat area where Prospero had stood while mocking them.

Assuming that doesn't set off any additional traps, she would eventually take out the trump deck and try first a place trump (the ruins in Ubervald). If that didn't work, she'd try a person trump (Aunt Fiona), and finally she'd try her trump to Kieran. She wouldn't attempt to step through, just to make contacts with the far end, for now. To see what the "subtle warping" means.

I'd approach with my twin, if something is going to jump out at her, we both will be there to handle it.

Upon the ground, away from the little outcrop of rock where Prospero had stood, she finds something that looks as if it might have fallen from the man's robes as he stood there. Maybe.

It is a key. As long as a full-grown man's hand. Dark iron. The teeth of the key have an atypical curved look to them.

Both the Kier have seen this exact style of key before now. Many, many times. Such keys of precisely this design used to hang from their Grandfather's belt. In fact, such opened all the doors that could be locked within the Enclave. Neither recognize this key specifically (although there are many doors in the Enclave--this one, if they've seen its shape before, evidently matches up to a little-used door).

Any attempt to contact something via Trump feels unfocused, as if the target were far away somehow, and concentration creates in the user's mind an image of different places and people--in rapid succession and blurred somehow. No contact can be made.

She picks up the key, and shows it to her brother. "This doesn't make me happy, brother. What if he's going to the Enclave now? What if he's been going there all along? We need to get out of here." She tries the various trumps, and gets nowhere.

"Let's try walking." She takes her brother by the hand not holding a weapon, and tries to walk in shadow. {Let's see if Broken Pattern's version of walking in shadows is already suitably warped to ignore this problem.}

"Why would he have those keys? This does not bode well." Taking his sisters hand "You know the way, but if what he said is true, this will be..interesting."

Keep alert, paranoid level watching.

Hurry love, hurry.

[I'm presuming you're walking through Shadow...]

As the pair walk, the hills' inclines gradually grows less steep. The sky changes color a little bit. But trees pop up without expectation. Looking around, the mountains are much further away than they should be. Their movement in Shadow has gone askew. By the looks of things, not horribly so. No visible danger, anyway. Just a little...off...of expectations.

"Shifting the shadows is working. It's just not... doing what I want it to do. If it's based on proximity to some effect in shadow, and we're moving... even if it's the wrong direction, continuing to move will get us farther away from the effect and it'll stop."

She looks at the mountains again. "[color=indigo]Unless it's just pushing us around in some stupid loop, and we never leave.[color=indigo]" Kierenne pushes harder to walk through shadows, going to the verge of a true hellride. Past some trees ahead there's a cave, dark and foreboding. She steps into its shadowy embrace and starts to manipulate shadow in earnest below the ground. Every turn of the tunnel allows her a new place to change, with nothing more than ten feet away to remain of the shadow they had been in. This legacy of the Shadow Kier may serve them well, even after their home is destroyed.

Working together would just confuse matters, I'd be adding some rocks while she'd be removing them.

Upon entering the tunnel "Choosing something more familiar, good idea."

Should I leave a mark? It would help if she's right that we're going in loops. But it would also give a trail to be followed.

"Dear, I had a thought. Trump contact is wonky here, distorted and random. I'm going to try to contact you as we walk. If any order seems to come of the distortion or it gets clearer, we'll be making progress, if it devolves we'll sliding back towards whatever is jamming the frequency. It maybe worth a shot."

[Try continuously to contact her, letting Kierenne lead by the hand if needed as I try to sort through the images, letting her know if it gets better/worse. Kinda of like a shadow based game of Hot/Cold].

"Depending on the interference, it may give the same images if we're tracking back into an area. Seeing if they are truly random images, or just something set up to thwart Trumps."