Into The Woods (Mint, the Kier)

Mint has served for much of the past year with Julian in the Forest of Arden. She is not one of his personal Forestguard but rather a Ranger--an auxillaries training in forest combat, including tracking and knife-fighting as well as stealth. There are perhaps ten with the Prince at any one time, all experienced and well-thought-of. Being chosen is an honor. Mint has found Prince Julian a startlingly good teacher--just sarcastic enough for effect, not at all cruel (although exacting), an excellent listener (when he listens), and patient with genuine effort. The Forestguard like their commander, his unflappable ways, and the vast majority fell under the spell of Arden long ago. The whole place is like a cathedral of living trees, one which her Uncle knows intimately.

Julian takes enough of an interest in his niece, even chats with her now and then. She ends up intrigued by some clues she notices. How he prefers to be alone for large stretches of time. Also his powers and scholarship exceed her own expectations--and she suspects those of many in Amber. She even got to know him well enough to recognize the mildest show of pain, less than a flicker really, in the presence of his sister Fiona when she said something cutting in his direction.

Then, one day, while riding on patrol by Julian's side, a flock of his personal owls (they are nearly everywhere in Arden) all took to flight and began circling several feet above his head. With one hand, he stops the patrol and seems to listen Which is no doubt exactly what he is doing. Then his voice rings out "Intruders! The quickening water!"

Instantly the horns of the Forestguard blew notes, in a code only they knew. The horns echoes through the fastness of vast and lovely Arden. Hounds bayed and began to run. Julian turned his horse while all the troops with him followed suit.

Forward, to the Quickening Water...

The Kier arrive via Trump.

At the Lake...

When the wolves show up, they are not wolves. They're bigger than that. In fact, they'd make very very small ponies--plus the fact they look more like hounds. Roughly sixty show up in the first wave, with more on their way. Very, very soon you'll also hear the echo of hunting horns. Lots of them. Coupled with the not-so-muffled thunder of a lot of horse's hooves.

Any attempt to dominate these wolves will fail. I think you're probably smart and experienced enough to realize you're up against some other Amber-level Psyche. These things already answer to someone else's will. You can indeed hold them at bay, however. For now.

Within minutes a large number (say, forty) of heavily armed men will appear on horse-back (at least they look like horses--really big horses) in black and white armor. Each looks like an expert at the weapons they hold, which include lances and short swords and some have what look something like crossbows. With them come at least a hundred more wolves or hounds.

More horns in the distance. Getting closer. Ditto the thunder of hoofbeats. It sounds like a relatively tiny army is on its way. You might notice the trees are full of tiny black and white owls (about the size of sparrows) circling the area as if watching everything that is happening below.

The next wave of soldier-rangers arrives, preceeded by a flock of black-and-white hawks. At the head of the troops rides a man in white armor--at least it is shaped like armor, but looks rather like enamel in some way. He rides what looks like a horse, except it is too big. More like some kind of equine demi-god, the Hercules or Rama among horses.

With this man, comes another hundred soldiers on horseback.

You cannot see his face, but the man on the gi-normous horse does look familiar. At least his armor does. It is identical to that worn by Julian in the Trump you possess.

Flip the staff around and will it into a bracer, tucked up under my robes.

Hold up my hands, slowly take out my pack of trumps. Thumb through them until I find the one I'm looking for.

Hold it up facing me, next to the individual the card looks like...

"Uncle Julian?"

Kierenne watches the soldiers and hounds, and calms her mind. My ward will not stop flying bolts. she thinks, then readies her psyche to raise a Defensive Shield instead.

This is our uncle. One of our few remaining family. What omen is there to such a conflict-laden first meeting? Was Grandfather right? Are all the children of Oberon such warlike monsters?

Mint holds one of the crossbows. Even mounted she can shoot accurately enough for these purposes.

One of these intruders holds cards, perhaps Trump? Neither has a weapon ready, but Mint watches carefully for signs of Sorcery or of reaching to the card for escape prepared to interrupt either option painfully. Barring such action she awaits Prince Julian's signal. If they carry Trump they may belong to one of her Aunts or Uncles. The title of kinslayer has little appeal.

Mint catches a glimpse of something amidst the masked strangers' cards. The certainly look like Trumps, but one has a different back. Dark. With something red.

Prince Julian brings his horse (if that thing is a horse) to a full stop less than five yards from the two masked strangers. A stillness fills the air, as every single soldier and beast at his command waits for orders.

After a few moments, Julian removes his helm with little enough fuss. He almost looks amused.

(OOC--I imagine Julian as a cross in manner and looks a blend of the bearded Spock from the "Mirror" universe on Star Trek and Professor Snape from Harry Potter. With a few dashes of Jaime from the HBO series Game of Thrones.)

"Triton, is that you? With Reena perhaps? Or maybe Martin, experimenting with the concept of just how badly a date can go wrong? Do tell."

The Keir might recognize one of the female rangers training a crossbow at them--the redread--from a Statue.

Kieran pockets the trumps within his robes but keeps a hand nearby. He takes a step towards his sister, ready to grab her hand, and bolt by trump at a moments notice taking her with him.

In sync with his sister "My Lord Uncle, if truly that is Julian of Amber beneath that armour, the Kier have heard of your exploits under the reign of our father, King Eric of Amber. This welcome ill befits such noble tales. What cause have your men to show us such fire? We are your family, returned to Amber's embrace at last."

He notices Mint, and upon recognizing her nods in satisfying manner. Confirming to himself the identity of the horse riding juggernaut.

Julian laughs at that, without blinking or taking his gaze away from the pair.

"What welcome can any strangers expect when they try and sneak in through the back door?" He makes a tiny gesture and the wolf-hound-things seem to calm down. They, like the hundred plus troops that surround the brother and sister, wait.

In the same moment, as if a single being with two mouths, the two masked figures speak. Both soft of voice, and thin of frame, it is not immediately obvious which is the brother and which the sister. Perhaps the one holding the trump is more frail seeming, or perhaps not. "My Lord Uncle, if truly that is Julian of Amber beneath that armour, the Kier have heard of your exploits under the reign of our father, King Eric of Amber. This welcome ill befits such noble tales. What cause have your men to show us such fire? We are your family, returned to Amber's embrace at last."

The Kier are afoot, surrounded by a faint circle scuffed quickly in the dirt. Of a height with each other, they are either tall for women or short for men. Both wear flowing black robes, trimmed with red, cut to allow a full range of motion. Nothing can be seen of their skin beneath the robes, even their hands are gloved and their hair is covered, as well as the pale white masks covering their faces.

One was seen with a bo staff, which is now not in evidence, while the other has a curved warsword at his (or her) side, sheathed. And other than standing close together and staying within the protection offered by the circle, they make no defensive moves as the hundreds of hounds and riders surround them.

Eyes returning to their uncle, "Strangers at the back door, you say?" The Kier that had the trumps looks to the forest surrounding them " Why, your pardon, Lord Uncle. We did not notice the walls, nor the signs. We but used the trump our Royal father left us, which we took to be both an invitation and a sign that we are no strangers at all. Though, to tell the truth, we knew not which forest this was until your own illustrious presence showed it to be Arden. And yet, here we stand, neither taking up arms, nor skulking and hiding."

The two Kier kneel at the same moment, bowing low. "And so we ask formally, Lord Uncle Julian of Amber, Kieran and Kierenne Ericspawn, lately of the lost shadow of Kier, seek refuge in the Courts of Amber, and the protection and community of their family."

"Strangers at the back door, you say?" The Kier with the sword on her hip looks around at the woods. "Why, your pardon, Lord Uncle. We did not notice the walls, nor the signs. We but used the trump our Royal father left us, which we took to be both an invitation and a sign that we are no strangers at all. Though, to tell the truth, we knew not which forest this was until your own illustrious presence showed it to be Arden. And yet, here we stand, neither taking up arms, nor skulking and hiding."

The two Kier kneel at the same moment, bowing low. "And so we ask formally, Lord Uncle Julian of Amber, Kieran and Kierenne Ericspawn, lately of the lost shadow of Kier, seek refuge in the Courts of Amber, and the protection and community of their family."

Mint watches the pair closely noticing the placement of the folds of cloth covering their bodies. If as she suspects the pair have come from Chaos then they might shift form beneath their all too concealing garments. Her expression reveals nothing.

Julian raises an eyebrow at this speech. "Very nice. Your claims need to be verified of course--and even if true that doesn't make you Amber's friends necessarily. Still, I'll be glad to give you a chance to prove yourselves. Surrender yourselves to my custody. My word you will not be harmed, unless of course in self defense. You'll be questioned, of course. In great detail. And watched. The final decision isn't up to me, of course. Oh, and you'll be disarmed. Completely. Until the King says otherwise."

"I believe that you can spare me for guard duty, Sir." Mints eyes don't leave the pair for even a fraction of a second and the crossbow remains almost inhumanly steady.

(If Julian prefers a different honorific Mint would use that instead of Sir.)

"We can only be Amber's friends when Amber offers its friendship in return. For now, we are only long lost kin with a pretty story." Kierenne rises and slowly removes the sword & sheath from her belt. Gripping blade below the guard, she holds the weapon towards Mint. "I offer my surrender, Cousin." Her stare seems to linger on Mint for some time, scanning her up and down. "I believe I prefer the red hair to the white stone. Don't you? That color is most striking."

She glances towards Kieran, then realizes something. "Oh, you must relinquish Fleshrender. I'm sorry, brother. Our Lord Uncle has given his word, though."

"We can only be Amber's friends when Amber offers its friendship in return. For now, we are only long lost kin with a pretty story." Kieran rises with his sister. Seeing her give her blade up, he makes no motion to give up his own weapon.

Upon his sister's request, Kieran extends his right arm with a flick. A dagger slides into his grip.

"As Our Lord Uncle's word has been given, I give mine up also."

The dagger melts into a bracer, which he holds out to Mint, much as Kierenne already has done.

"Be gentle with Fleshrender. We shall seek his return to our persons."

Looking Mint up and down closer "Agreed sister dear. The hair is to my liking, even more so in that color"

"Sib, are we perhaps too forward? Cousin Mint isn't familiar with the Kier." Kierenne turns back to Mint, "Indeed, we do apologize, Cousin. Once the Kier are welcomed as family in Amber, perhaps we might begin negotiations of friendly relations. But now is too soon."

"For a first meeting, perhaps. But seeing what we knew as stone, now as life. I think we would be pardoned in this instance if our cousin would so permit it." Kieran looks back to Mint, "As my sister has said, once we are all family, we would delight in your company."

Mint dismounts and accepts each weapon in turn. She treats the items passed into her care with respect. She raises one eyebrow when called by name as if intrigued. Then her gaze falls upon the pocket where one or the Kier stowed the deck of Trumps.

"Lord Julian did say 'Completely'."

"Dear cousin, you have our weapons. We are unarmed, and ill suited towards violence, even moreso without our weapons."

"You claim kinship and yet see the cards as less dangerous than a blade? How odd."

"Cousin, if we'd wanted to attack our family with these trumps, we would not have needed to come here to do so." Kierenne turns to Julian, "Lord Uncle, have you felt any unwelcomed trump contact in the past several weeks? And yet here we hold this supposed weapon built just for you."

The masked woman inhales as if to start a longer argument, then stops herself. "But, I suppose you cannot know how we have failed to be aggressive when we were out of your sight. Let them have the cards, Kieran. They will be returned to us once we have proven our intentions." She turns back to Mint. "Still, I must ask you to take care. These are all that are left to us of our father. We would hate to lose them."

Julian nudges forward atop the godlike horse-thing he rides. His eyes, one quartered closed, miss nothing. "Why are you masked?"

Kieran stares at his sister for a long while, then taking the deck from his robe.

"As my sister says, that is all we have of our father."

As he hands it over "Since you view it as a weapon, it will be returned to us in the same condition it was entrusted to your care, cousin. As Lord Uncle Julian has said, on his word."

Kierenne takes a step back at Julian's question, only belatedly reminding herself that her uncle probably hadn't intended his rudeness.

"It is the custom among our mother's people for the nobles to keep from the sight of others. You might find the blessings of our nobility... distasteful." She looks to Mint, an expression of sadness hidden by the mask. "We usually broach the subject with off-worlders in private, and only among those we consider friends. Doing so in a crowd of common soldiers..."

"A social taboo of some kind." Julian nodded. "Very well. Back at the Lodge you will reveal to one person and one person only what lies behind the masks. Your kinswoman in fact."