Raiders of the Temple of the Last Crusade (Aiden, Fergus, Karlsen)

"Will do. Gotta stabilise her first." Fergus replies curtly concerntrating on trying to keep the Old woman alive.

Fergus' amateurish attempts at probing a dying old woman's mind will yield a variety of images, including those of a young woman who resembles the Isobel of the two mystery-Trumps, and lots of others, like a chubby young man with a dazzling smile and picnics, going to a concert, the pain of arthritis in the joints, etc. None last more than a few split-seconds, as her mind is going dark. Within a minute, having received no medical assistance whatsoever in the face of a stroke (brought on by age, physical and psychic shock) she will stop breathing.

Willing someone's flesh to remain alive as its nervous system suffers severe physical damage rarely works.

"Benjamin, how's she doin?"
Aiden, finishing his circuit of the room, heads back to where Fergus and Isabella are.

Seeing that the woman is not breathing, Aiden pulls her to the floor, rolls her on her back and begins to apply basic CPR in an effort to resuscitate her.

Felrgus looks up, his tone urgent in calling to Aiden.

"Aiden, I think I'm going to need help here urgently. It looks like she's had a stroke and I am no medic, but I have read a bit and Oxygen may help. Also we somehow need to get the blood clot down. Can you find something suitable to help her? Anything else that you know that could help would be appreciated. An abridged guide to treating stroke victims maybe?"

A single tear drops from the bottom of his mask, though he tries not to let it show.

My first real act in the world is to kill a helpless old woman. Maybe I am the monster that they say I am?

"Don't worry, kid," says Aiden continuing to pump her chest and breathe into her lungs. "I might can bring 'er back."

The CPR does not work. She is dead. Her cat wanders up to her face and sniffs it, giving a plaintive "meowr" sound.

Aiden sighs. "I'm sorry, Fergus. I did the best I could. "

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't know. The next time, try and be a little more careful with mental probing....Our minds are much more powerful than most of theirs."

Damn! This could certainly create a trust issue if the real Isabel ever finds out we are responsible for the death of her housekeeper.

Aiden picks the old woman up and lays her on the couch.

"Fergus, check the kitchen for a telephone or whatever kind of device they use in the Nexus for communications. Also see if you can find a directory listing. We should notify the medical authorities that she is here. While you're doing that, I'm gonna locate Isabel's old room....on the assumption that she may have left some clue as to where she was heading when she left."

Aiden picks up the photo album and goes in search of the master bedroom.

Fergus stands there looking at the body on the sofa. Aiden's instructions pass him by and the world seems to pass very slowly around him.

This was real. This was the end of a life. This was not someone being shot on the Holo-TV.

I did what I had to do. She was set here by my enemies. Action had to be taken.

No I acted too hastily. There was much we could have gleaned from her if I had waited.

I need to snap out of this. My enemies will be alerted and be here soon.

Maybe they are right, that I am not fit to be in the world and need to be locked away.

Aiden's quick perusal of the album shows plenty of photos of a middle-aged Isabella with the young, beautiful Isobel--or, presumably, Esmeralda. One and the same? The two women look friendly. Sometimes the photos show one or the other. In the garden. In various rooms.

One catches his eye. It shows Esmeralda/Isobel hand in hand with a man, a man who holds his broad-brimmed hat down in such as a way as to cover his face. Tall, slender but muscular, that much seems clear. He wears a similar outfit as Aiden has seen since arriving in the city--a dark suit with narrow dark lapels, buttoned up almost to the collarbone, a white shirt and tie. She looks at the man with a curious expression. Sadness. And joy. Amused, yet understanding, even forgiving. Both her hands hold his left, a firm grip on both their parts. His right holds his hat down before his face. The hat is a style Aiden does not recognize.

Close examination of the sepia-toned pictures reveals Esmeralda/Isobel does indeed seem to have different colored eyes.

In general the house is a little dusty, a little cluttered. Best guess? Someone comes and cleans once a week or so.

Upstairs there seem to be three bedrooms. One is rather nondescript. A second looks well-used and contains garments correct for the elderly Isabella. The third is locked, but a ribbon on the doorknob holds a key.

Aiden removes the picture of Esmeralda/Isabel and the man from the album and slips it into an inside jacket pocket....then walks to the room with the closed door. He listens at the door for sounds of anything in the room beyond...people, pets, etc.
If he hears nothing, he will remove the key with its ribboned tie from the doorknob and insert it into the lock....and slowly open the door...

Clearly, a lady's bedchamber. One unused but tended. Although muted, the colors here are gold and white. That seems the predominant color scheme of the wardrobe as well. One closet contains a man's clothes, very much like that in the photo. Blacks and whites of different shades. Pretty typical. So far most of the people Aiden has seen in the city wear muted shades of black, white, gray and brown.

The owner of the bedroom apparently liked or likes cats. A fair number of cat paintings and tiny figurines dot the room.

By any standards, the bed is large and sturdy.

A tiny box lies on a table beside the bed. It holds a box similar to the one which carried the clay bird. Similar but not identical.

Fergus remains where he was downstairs, still frozen in shock.

Looking quizically at the box, Aiden hesitates for just a moment, then picks it up and pockets it.

I'd really love to open you now, but I don't think we should stay around here much longer.

Aiden continues to search the room...looking behind the cat pictures for wall safes, checking under the mattress for hidden items...and then moving to the closet, checking the pockets of garments, shelves, etc...

The cat lets out another pitiful meow and Fergus on hearing it cannot listen to it any more. He curls up in a ball into a feotal position and covers his ears.

Winnow says that we are Gods and that we can do what we like. What matter is this to me? I must do what I must to survive.

Winnow is wrong. The people of shadow have to matter. Most of the third generation of Amber are born from one shadow parent. How can they not matter?

Their past will only matter as long as one of us remembers according to Aiden. Once they are gone, if no one remembers them then they will be like Shrodinger's cat.

I will still remember her and so will Isobel. It is clear to me that such contempt for shadow lives is the path to the dark prophecy. I must not let myself become that which they claim of me.

The clothes reveal a few minor items--ticket stubs to a play called Romeo and Juliette. Some local coins, and one penny that is clearly from Amber--it even shows Oberon's face. The date is from a generation or so past.

Beneath the bed, a scabbard has been worked into the framework. A razor-sharp rapier waits within it. Pearls are worked into the pommel and hilt. It feels like a woman's weapon and Aiden is certain in the right hands would be deadly.

One part of a closet contains several masks for both a man and a woman. Given their sizes, for one specific man and one specific woman. His are black and white. Hers are white and gold. A pair of cat masks. Another pair of simple masks. A third that resemble butterflies.

Aiden examines the pairs of masks, running his fingers softly along the one of white and gold, thinking...

Who are you? Where are you?......Poor Isabella. I'm sorry Isabel...Esmeralda...
.....Poor Fergus.....It was my fault. I'm just so used to working alone, without having to worry about other people. No! That's not it...not really. I should've been paying more attention. He's so unused to interacting with people....so unaware of his own innate power...the strength of his own abilities..... locked in a room all his life. And I've gotten so used to looking for potential spies and enemies recently, I'm losing sight of what's important. I'm not making the right decisions. No more! No more mistakes. No more unnecessary deaths because of my own inattentiveness.


Aiden replaces the masks, shuts the closet door, puts everything back in order, then turns and leaves the room. He closes and locks the door, replacing the ribbon and key on the doorknob.

He descends the stairs and returns to the living room where Fergus is still standing.

Touching him on the shoulder, he says, quietly, "Fergus?"

Fergus gradually uncurls and opens his eyes which Aiden can clearly see are redened through the mask.

"Wha .. " he begins, blinking his eyes so that he can see more clearly.

"Aiden. They were right. I am a monster who should be locked away. I will not resist if you want to send me back to Amber to be judged for my crime."

He holds his arms out together ready for them to be bound.

"Aw, Fergus," Aiden sighs and claps his hands on Fergus' shoulders. "Listen to me, Fergus. You are NO monster! "

"Inexperienced with dealing with people, perhaps. Unaware of your own strength, certainly. But you are no monster...and you are not to blame. I am! This mission is my responsibility. I know
that you have been isolated from any real contact all your life. I know that this is all new and confusing to you. I should have been paying more attention...to help guide you in this, but I wasn't. I started playing someone else's game. I lost my focus, and now an innocent person is dead because of it. "

Aiden's head hangs for a moment, and then snaps back up to look Fergus in the eyes.

"Look, mate. We can't change the past, but we can learn from it. And we can change ourselves.
We can become better than we were. That's all one can ever do, really."

"Now. We still have a mission to perform. A lot is depending on us...maybe the future of all of Shadow. So let's get squared away and get back to work, alright?" Aiden slaps Fergus on the shoulder.

"When you feel like it, I need you to search around for a telephone of some kind and a directory.
We will need to notify the medical authorities before we go. At least we can make sure Isabella gets a decent burial. Understand?"

(Occ - Karlsen is waiting around for a signal to come inside ... )

There are some birds in the trees of the house's garden. Pretty little birds. They come in blue and red and a surprising shade of violet. Different subspecies maybe.

And then Karlsen realizes the clay birds in the box were exact copies of these birds. Down to the shape of the bill.

Aiden's words permeate through Fergus and his fragile confidence is raised slightly. He takes his hands away and gets up off the floor.

"I didn't know she was on the verge of a stroke. I think it may have killed her soon anyway. A blood clot that big, that could have killed her so quickly would have been triggered sooner or later and I guess that I triggered it early. But I swear I didn't know. I wasn't careful enough."

Fergus looks around the room, avoiding the body slumped on the sofa.

"What you need Aiden is nicknamed a Speakeasy here, though it's formal name was the Holo-Messenger. It's a device about the length of a dagger, though broader with a Holo camera on top and a projection unit just underneath. I've never used one as they allowed no external communications into my prison, but I have seen them on the Holo-TV. Be careful wth it as they sometimes vent steam from the sides. The emergency services can be reached I believe by taping 7-6-7 on the typewriter like keys at the very bottom."

Fergus goes over to the mirror and takes off his mask. Slowly he begins to reassemble the features of Benjamin and when he is satisfied he dons the mask again. He then checks the lower rooms to see if he can spot such a device and calls back to Aiden.

"In a second tell us what you found in the house Aiden. It is important that we don't miss anything before the emergency services get here. We may need Karlsen to check around the house for any spells or other powers concealing anything."

Fergus heads to the back door and waves Karlsen into the house.

Karlsen walks in. "Nobody at home? You could have called me in sooner. I think we have found where the idea for the birds came from. Take a look." He points out the birds outside. When he sees Fergus's expres​sion(assuming that it looks dire after his unknowing remark). "What? What happened?"

Fergus is not sure exactly how to reply, but eventually after a pause he decides to tell the truth.

"There was an accident. The lady in question was lying to us, telling us she was Isabella and that the lady in the trump was called Esmerelda and I wanted to get at the truth of the matter. I suspected that our foes had influenced her mind and went to seek the truth. When my mind contacted with hers however she started to have a stroke. I didn't realise at first as I'm not used to these things. I didn't know that she had a massive blood clot that was likely to kill her at the slightest shock. I'm so ashamed. I'm totally useless and out of my depth."

Fergus gives a meloncholy sigh.

Karlsen looks at Fergus sadly, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You are not useless. Inexperienced and ignorant of all your power, yes. But not useless. We all have our uses in the machinery of the Pattern."

"Perhaps her fate was to be the person who would cause you to realize that your power needs to be tempered with caution and wariness. If so, her quick and painless death may serve as a warning now, when a failure later would have had much more dire consequences. Learn from this and grow, and her death will not be in vain." He releases Fergus’s shoulder after a gentle squeeze.

“Come. We do not have much time. Help me search.” He pitches his voice to carry, “Aiden. Anything I need to look at first?”

Karlsen continues talking as he starts wandering about the house looking at various things with all lenses down in an attempt to find any artifacts of power. He is methodically going from room to room searching in a general way.

“Everyone lies to a greater or lesser extent, even if is only to ourselves. Amberites seem to have it bred into them, perhaps it stems from King Oberon. Just because someone lies does not mean you cannot learn valuable things from them. It just takes a greater degree of deduction. But to make a deduction you need information. Getting people to talk is the first step.”

“If you wish to learn more of these things I would suggest you talk with Caine, Bleys or Lord Horatio. Or better yet find teachers out in shadow so the others do not know of your ability to pierce falsehood. Shadow teachers will at least get you started down the right path, then you can learn the rest. I am poor at these kind of games which is part of why I reside outside the castle.”

“Now help me look around the house for some sort of workshop, or clues as to where a workshop might be. I believe there is a possibility that the box was constructed by someone familiar with this shadow.”

(Occ - Is there just the one cat? Or are there others around? What is the cat doing?)

To Karlsen Aiden says, "I've already checked Isabel's room. If your going to look around for a workshop, I will head back upstairs and search the housekeeper's room."

"One of you all lock that front door. We don't need anyone barging in here unexpectedly....
.....And let me know if either of you comes across a speakeasy," Aiden calls over his shoulder as he heads upstairs.