Amber - Prologues

[Hrolf]

Grettir

"I'll try, father, I'll try to be a good priest"
Grettir also thinks that with both warleader and high priest in the same family, they will have a lot of power.
For the rest of the day, until close to sundown, Grettir joins the children for the usual chores about the village. Since it is winter, the animals are indoors and need to be fed.
Wool needs to be carded and spun. Small jobs need to be done while the men are busy taking care of the beasts and the women are weaving cloth and preparing food.

However, in winter, the nights come early and everyone gathers in the main staedhall to tell stories and, of course, do the little jobs that can be done sitting down. Small mending jobs, carvings, spinning wool on drop spindles.
Grettir is half embarrassed and half overjoyed at the stories that are being told about Grettir and the ice bear.

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

He watched the impressive castle with a child's sense of wonder. Visions of knights and kings and valiant princes and damsels in distress rode through his mind on gigantic chargers. He almost asked his mother if his grandfather were a king but then that would make him a prince and he didn't feel much like a prince.

"Does Grandfather like dogs?" he asked, "I hope so, because I don't think Blitzen would like to wait in the car..."

[SilverElf4]

Soren

"Yes, Father," Soren replies automatically. The thought of archery is a welcome distraction from thinking of the empty hole in his thoughts and memories where a mother should be. He finishes the rest of the meal in silence and with a certain eagerness to lose himself in the devotion of skill with his hankyu. It is with a touch of regret though, that he finishes the last of his rice and asks permission to be excused from the table. Only as he is preparing to leave does the thought occur to him that he wished he had talked more with his father. And it is with a bit of shame that he curses himself inside for being so relieved that his father hadn't taken him to task for the question that he did not press the advantage. In all skills and abilities there is timing.... There is timing in the whole life of the warrior, in his thriving and declining, in his harmony and discord. All this an more passes through his head and his heart as he waits to be excused.

[Voshkod]

Rachel

"Now where would you keep a duck, Rachel?," your mother asks. "Now. The little girl told the wandering knight that her duck was missing. The wandering knight was a very important knight, and he had lots of things to do, but he stopped all his quests and set out to find the missing duck. . . ."

You are softly lulled to sleep.

Lore

"We waited in anticipation, almighty, for prophecy told us that the Sun would give us a Son to rule us. Some had fallen by the wayside, stopped believing the old words, but when you descended into the city in your chariot of fire they were turned into pillars of ash, and only we believers were spared." William pauses. "Are you ready for breakfast, almighty?"

Grettir

People seem impressed that the high priest would lower himself to work menial tasks, but that is certainly your right. Around the fire that evening, toasted chunks of bear, sizzling with hot grease, are passed around, along with flagons of mead and ale. The story has not yet grown larger with the telling, but is still dramatic enough to get attention.

"And he pelted the ice bear with a ball of snow, drawing it's charge! And when it came on, all claws and teeth, my son stood his ground, planted his spear, and faced his death as a warrior. But when the snow had cleared, the bear was dead, it's belly sliced from within, the spear had gone in the mouth and out the stomach, and Grettir stood, blessed of Odin!" Cheers and burps all around.

Drake

The gates slowly swing open, and the Rolls parks in front of a huge door. "The dog will stay in the car, Drake. Now, remember, best behavior!" You both get out of the car, and mother takes a moment to straighten your hair. Then she opens the door.

There is a vast hall, reaching back further than a cricket pitch. Great fires burn in banks along both walls, the dark stones sweat with beads of water. There is a throne of black rock at the far end, and an older man, large of frame, with a beard and a scepter. Your mother slowly makes her way to the front of the throne as you trail behind. She kneels, then looks up at him. "Good evening, father, thank you for seeing us."

Your grandfather's voice is a low rumble that fills the room. "Floramel. Little Floramel. Come, give your father a kiss."

Your mother stands and ascends the stairs, giving the man a peck on the cheek. "It's so good to see you, daddy," she says, and the man rumbles with laughter. She sits down on the step below him.

You're all alone in front of the throne.

Soren

"You are excused. Attend to your archery. I will be down at the range, working with rifles this morning, should you wish to come by after you are finished." You both rise from the table almost as one. As is custom in the morning, he steps around the table and puts a hand on your shoulder, a sign of departure.

He starts away, walking across the gravel without haste, yet making swift time with his long legs.

[The_Logic_Ninja]

Rachel

In the garden, Rachel thinks as she drifts off to sleep. There's a pond not that far away, and I could bring it bread...
She is warm, and the bed is as soft as her mother's voice, and the gentle darkness overtakes her.

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

The man on the dais awed Drake, as no man had ever done before. This man was how any young man would imagine a king; he was strong, able and imposing. Taking his mother's warnings to heart, he watched for some sign of protocol and stayed silent.

As his mother knelt, Drake did so too. When his mother stood, Drake remained kneeling. He had no idea how to proceed and so he waited for some sign or instruction.

[Hrolf]

Grettir

That night, Grettir went to the high priest's house, worried about how his friends had reacted to him during the childrens' chores that day. The pain of his wounds and scrapes in the fight with the bear had mostly disappeared. He expected the wounds to sort themselves out over the next few days. He generally healed faster than most of his friends.

He wrapped himself in some blankets and cast the priest's herbs upon the fire.
"Allfather, one eyed wanderer, help me to be your priest. You test us, you who hung on the tree to gain wisdom. Give me my tests. Let me learn the wisdom my village needs."

As he drifted off to sleep, Grettir thought that his father had never liked the priest. Had Horgar said what he had to enrage the man? Had Grettir's father deliberately put him in danger to solidify his hold on the village?

He tried to put the thought from his mind.

[mutecebu]

Lore

At the mention of food, Lore returned to his normal, peppy self.

"Yah!"

He hopps back onto the bed, and takes a bite. Lore nodds with aproval, then adds, without looking at William, "OK, the servents can come back in."

[SilverElf4]

Soren

Soren manages a slight smile at his father's touch, and after watching him a moment, spins and moves to the range, almost unconsciously mimicking his forebear's gait.

The hankyu is a serviceable weapon, and more elegant than the rifles, but Soren cannot help but feel keenly his young age in handling the smaller bow, which still seems overly large in his hands.

The arrows fly with ease, though the one-footed shots prove difficult, given the limited balance of a growing six year old. Halfway through, the string has weakened enough that Soren feels compelled to replace it before continuing on. It would have been nothing of note if the sudden thought had not come unbidden as he raised the bow once more - I wonder what my mother would think of this?

[Voshkod]

Rachel

You dreams of ducks, and a wandering knight who looks like the man in mother's picture.

Drake

Your grandfather whispers to your mother, "What's his name?"

"Drake," she whispers back. Your grandfather snorts.

"You named him after a duck?" He shakes his head. "Come here, boy, come here, I want to get a look at you." He motions you to the dias.

Grettir

You awaken from a dream of a flaming sign in the sky. There's someone in the tent. Before you can move or make a sound, he touches you, and you feel frozen.

"Hey, kid. Now, don't panic. I'm just checking on a few things, OK?" There's a sudden pain in your thumb, and a moment later the figure is holding up a small glass with blood in it. "Yeah, that'll do. You really are her son, aren't you? I should kill you right here, I really should, but I've always had a soft spot for family. Even the worst of them."

He grins, and you catch a glimpse of red hair. Then he vanishes in a spray of rainbow light, and you can move again.

Lore

The servants return, and your day begins. William trails you everywhere, writing down all you say and do.

Soren

You have no memory of your mother, none. There are pictures that might be her; the artwork in the house is mostly abstracts or woodcuts, austure to an extreme. The arrows fly downrange, one after another, until the quiver is empty and your arms feel like jelly.

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

Only his mother's warning stayed Drake's reaction; he was not named after a duck, he was named after a hero. Drake was a... a sailor of some kind, called a Privateer. At least, he thought so. It sounded like a pirate, which is to say rather exciting, but apparently it was not quite the same thing. Drake meant dragon too, so maybe he was named after a dragon.

Young as he was, Drake realised that he was allowing himself to be distracted. Slowly, as respectfully as he knew how, the boy stood and approached his grandfather.

[mutecebu]

Lore goes through his daily routine, improvising when it felt right or fun.

During his lunch, Lore suddenly looks straight into William's eyes. "Those unbelievers, are they still standing? You know, as pillars?"

[Hrolf]

Grettir

Grettir wakes worried in the morning. He goes to see his father.
"Dad, where is the nearest priest of Odin? Or even a wise-woman or Vola? Last night I was visited by someone who appeared in the longhouse and took some of my blood and then disappeared in a flash like Bifrost, the rainbow bridge. He had red hair. I think it was Loki, god of fire and evil. I need to learn how to protect myself."

[SilverElf4]

Soren

Feeling a sense of satisfaction, Soren gently packs away his weapon and heads with weary but determined gait to the rifle range. I wonder what she looks like. He thinks wistfully. The fact that his father set a place for her...well, that was good, right? Ordinary life intrudes as he approaches the range, and he begins to wonder what the instructions for shooting will be today.

[Puma]

Bellona[br][br]Bella hugs the hellpuppy named Gerard close as Julian's monstrous horse comes up to speed. Of course she's not afraid... Morgenstern never throws her daddy, and daddy is there anyway to keep her safe. So, she lets herself enjoy the wind blowing through her hair; the scents of the forest.[br]Someday, this will be me, she thinks. Protecting Arden, being strong and brave like daddy.

[Voshkod]

Drake

As you get close to him, his arm flashes out and grabs your hand. He is very strong, and although he's not trying to hurt you, you know full well you couldn't break his grasp. "Look at me, Drake." His voice is full of power, and you meet his gaze.

There's a fire in your mind, suddenly, a web of bright lines and ominous darkness, a vast construct, larger than anything, and for a brief moment you see the whole thing, hanging in space. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

Distantly, you hear your mother. "Well, daddy? Does the blood run true?"

Your grandfather lets go of your hand. He's smiling gently. "It does, little Floramel, it does. Even unto the third generation. Drake, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Oberon, your grandfather, and you are the first grandchild brought before me."

He stands, picks you up, and tosses you into the air, grabbing you into a hug on your way down. "Flora, Drake, you've made this old man very happy." Out of the corner of your eye you can see your mother is crying, just a little, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

Lore

"No, almighty, the winds and rain carries them away, into the rivers and beyond the walls of the world. Now, almighty, in the evening yesterday you said you wished to walk to the beastiary today, perhaps to see a griffin and a manticore battle? Such a fight has been prepared for you, if you still wish it."

Grettir

"You are the priest of Odin, Grettir! Surely you can protect yourself from Loki Trickster-God." He looks at the small wound on your finger. "I'd say you protected yourself well. Such a small wound for a god to inflict on a child, you are more powerful than he, Grettir. And we will make you even more powerful. I have plans, my child, plans of war and conquest . . . ." Your father begins to spin out his vision of dealing with the other villages, then the other tribes, then the nations across the sea, and you have a momentary image of yourself as the demon on the prow of a longship, a symbol of fear.

Soren

Father is fiddling with a very large, long rifle, with a scope on top. He's shooting at something invisible to the naked eye, probably set up on the low stone wall over a mile away. He doesn't turn from his work as you approach. "You've finished with archery." Not a question, a statement. "Find a rifle, start at one hundred meters, standing, kneeling, prone."

Bellona

Morgenstern's muscles move like metal pistons under Bellona, and the afternoon sun dapples the greensward with a rainbow of colors. Your father's long back hair streams out behind him, and he's laughing with joy as the horse tears up the turf. Within a few minutes you're heading down a steep slope, racing a burbling stream toward the sea. Off to your right, eternally distant with the sun setting behind it, is the mountain, and on top of that the city. Mount Kolvir, and Amber, spires reaching up into the clouds, glittering gold and white.

Rachel

The knight races after the duck, fumbling and bumbling in his heavy armor, and the duck quack quacking quacking like laughter, laughter like thunder, rolling away over the hills and cliffs, sheltering cliffs, and the waves growing.

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

The young boy allowed himself to be caught up in the moment, powerless to do anything else. Oberon, his grandfather, was too strong to oppose physically and the images rushing through his head knocked him for six.

When he was finally back in a position to respond to events, he just smiled. His grandfather was happy and it seemed that it was very important that he be happy. Finally, his curiosity overwhelmed his desire to avoid causing offence.

"Grandfather, sir," he began, wondering at the correct form of address, "There was a... shape. It was like a maze made of fire... Did you see it too...?"

Something about the device fascinated him, he wanted to know what it was but he was too scared to ask outright.

[Voshkod]

Drake

"That, boy," he booms, "that is the most important thing in the worlds. When you're older, when you're ready, tell your mother that you want to see it in person."

He stands. "And now you both most go. I have much to do, and very little time." He pulls a playing card out of his pocket and hands to you. It feels just slightly cold. There's a unicorn on one side, and a picture of your grandfather on the other, looking every inch the King, upon a throne you've never seen before.

"Now go."

Moments later, you're back in the car, heading downhill. Your mother seems very pleased. "One thing, Drake. Don't talk about this to anyone, all right?"

[Puma]

Bellona[br][br]Bella's laughter is caught up in an awed gasp as she spies the mountain and the jewel of the city called Amber crowning it. She points in that direction to call Julian's attention to it... he wouldn't be able to hear her over the wind whistling past.

[The_Logic_Ninja]

Rachel

The knight's steps and the sounds of the duck turn to thunder, growing louder; the world whirls past them, a woman with a rifle turning a man's head into a bloody mess in the distance--

Rachel shifts in her bed, the blankets tangling around her, candles long since burned down.

--ocean, and cliffs, and the waves and thunder roll and break against a cliff, a stair cut into it, something shining against the dark clouds, the hint of something beyond comprehension within or below.

Rachel sleeps.

[Hrolf]

Grettir

"It is just that a man seek fame, father," says Grettir, not knowing where the words come from, "But to be truly famous a man must be just. Wherever you go, I will be with you. Together we shall earn fame that shall outlast us."
Grettir reaches out to grasp his father's wrist in a viking handshake. In doing so, he allows his father to feel his strength as he looks into his eyes.
"So when do I get a sword? And an axe. I'd like an axe."

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

The boy looked at his mother with a rather serious expression on his face. As though speaking to a small child, he explained.

"Mummy... You know that I won't talk about this. They wouldn't believe me even if I did..."

[SilverElf4]

Soren

Soren nods, suppressing a flash of irritation at his father's detached and pre-emptive communication. Soren was young but he got the message. Duty first, curiosity second.

He pulls a rifle of his own from the rack, though this one is considerably smaller. He begins to go through the task of checking it and getting it ready, reveling in the details the task places on him, freeing him of the burden of a mind with too much time to overthink the events of life.

[mutecebu]

Lore

Lore's face brightens with glee. "Yes! Right away!"

[Voshkod]

Bellona looks in awe at the great castle, wondering perhaps why father has never taken her there . . . .

Rachel dreams of ducks and oceans, and an unreachable island of magic . . . .

Grettir sees something in his father's eye, an uneasiness of a man confronted with a force of nature . . . .

Drake returns to school and the green days of cricket, the truth uncomfortable in his mind . . . .

Soren kneels at his father's side and fires, bullets flying downrange, into the distance between he and his father . . . .

Lore watches a griffin savage a manticore, and cheers as blood sprays into the sand . . . .

And now we are ten . . . .

Lore

The castle is yours, the city is yours, with your guards and your priests you've been over every inch of it, the river gulleys and the walls of the world around, looking out into the endless forest, every part of it except . . . except the room at the top of the north tower. One large oak door, locked, one balcony visible from the outside, several windows, shuttered. And no one has the key.

The other boys are running around, playing Ducks and Drakes, it's your party, after all, but none of them really seem to want to get too close to you, or talk to you, and all of them look to the ground when you approach. The tables groan with sweets and drinks.

Soren

The chair is absurdly large for you, cracked leather, dimly reflecting the light of the massive screens all around. Behind, a large pane of smoked glass, where Father is watching from. Before you, the Pit, where row upon row of soldiers watch their screens for any sign of the enemy trying to end the world.

It's been a tense few weeks, the American blockade of Cuba continuing, the Soviet blockade of Berlin intensifying, shots fired on the Czech border, and the Chinese building up forces on the Amur River. The politicals think something's up, alert levels are maximized. And you're in charge of the strategic forces.

A red light, your phone rings. "Comrade General, Rossiya 17 is reporting a thermal plume from the ICBM field at Minot, confidence is low, I repeat. . . wait . . . several plumes now, fifteen, twenty, twenty-seven thermal plumes from Minot, confidence is high. Looks like a small counter-force attack."

Drake

The smells of fish frying in oil, the sound of squawking ducks, and the sudden crack of a fist into the side of your head, sending things spinning. You hear your mother gasp, and the little man steps back. "No! You must keep your defenses up, young master." The world reels back into focus, the dojo, the sweaty mats, the heat of Hong Kong in summer, and your mother, looking distraught, fanning herself in the corner.

The tae kwan do master starts to move forward again, one hand moving slightly, the other absolutely still, and his eyes blank.

Grettir

The smell of burning straw and burning flesh, and a rivulet of blood streaming out to the sea, past the longships. The men of the village are having their way with it, with the women, and the plunder. You're drenched in blood from an uppercut into a tall man's belly, your axe sundering him from side to side, ropy guts spilling out over you and the earth.

The village elders are lined up, halters around their necks, and some of the men are taunting them, jabbing them with short spears, drawing blood from light wounds. Your father is there, holding a jeweled goblet plundered from leader, and he motions you over. He points to the captured elders. "Judge them. Invoke the wisdom of Odin, and judge them."

Rachel

The platters of drinks is heavy as you move lithely through the dancers, over to the table in the corner, and they laugh as they see you coming and pat you on the head and leave coins on the tray. The place is hopping tonight, musicians playing live, dancing and drinking and men and women heading upstairs. Mother looks exhausted but happy, and that's a sure sign of a profitable evening.

The table near the fireplace is full of large, ugly men, and one of the older ladies has been bringing them drinks. Mother told you not to go near them, something about Boss Pogue, whatever that is, but it's almost bedtime, and your duck is probably hungry.

Bellona

You awaken to the voices, Uncle Caine's soft drawl, Uncle Gerard's loud laugh, Father's calmness.

"It's too soon," Gerard says, "Eric's moving too quickly. He hasn't been gone that long. We haven't seen Benedict, or Corwin, or Bleys, for that matter."

"So much the better," Caine replys. "Corwin's dead, Benedict doesn't want the crown or he'd already have it, and Bleys is powerless."

"And what of Brand?," your father says. "Or Random? Is it better to move with those who are here, and hope that the others return on bended knee, or to get everyone together?"

"Let Eric move now," says Caine, "and if he fails, so much the better. The succession moves on, closer."

"Amber is weak," Gerard rumbles, "a war between brothers she cannot handle."

Your father sighs. "Amber is stronger than we know, I suspect. We are the weak ones."

[The Prince of Cats]

Drake

The boy fell back into the familiar motions of the martial art. He was picking it up quickly but not quickly enough to avoid a few hits when he got overconfident. In consolation, Drake reminded himself that he could probably take the hits better than his sparring partner; he just had to hit the little man first...

[Hrolf]

Grettir

Grettir looks over at the defeated men.
"Let them live. They have been defeated and their goods taken. They will spread the word and our next raid will be easier."
Grettir goes over to the elders.
"I am Grettir Horgarsson and that is my father, Horgar Tormundsson."
He looks at the men playing with the prisoners and the rape of the women. He starts to chant loudly as would a skald.

"Strong a man must be and brave in battle,
You have fought well and the spoils are yours.
But remember the fire that burns in the hearts,
Of the fathers of despoiled women.

Blood feuds and wars can carry abroad,
Even though you resist them boldly,
Your part will be told down through the ages,
Hard it will be if your saga is of evil."

Grettir goes to the sea to strip his mailshirt off and to wash the blood from himself.

[mutecebu]

OOC: How did Lore come to posess the castle? Conquest? Did he build it? Is it the same castle from four years ago?

IC:
Lore

Lore tossed another rock, which went much farther than his playmates', but nevertheless plopped into the water without a skip. Frowning, he becconed William over to him. The frown had nothing to do with the man, Lore was simply preocupied. In fact, he had grown fond of his priest over the years.

Adressing everyone at the lake, Lore anounced, "Today is the big day! We're gonna open that door in the tower, even if we have to knock it in!" Many of the kids were confused, but Lore didn't care. They could play with their rocks, but Lore had bigger plans. William would take care of the logistics of tearing the door down.

[The_Logic_Ninja]

Rachel

In a dark, stain-hiding red outfit and a white apron, Rachel moves nimbly between larger people, recieving affectionate pats and gathering up coins from her tray; she winds her way across the floor to her mother, and tugs at her skirt, looking up. "Mama? I'm going to go feed Lady Duck, all right?"

[Puma]

Bellona[br][br]Bella controls her breathing very carefully as she eavesdrops on the plotting Princes. It was a risk, concealing herself near where she thought they might go to plan... worse, she fell asleep. If they had discovered her, they so far hadn't made any sign.[br]What will they do to me, though, if they haven't found me already, but discover me now? Beat me? Exile me to a part of Arden so I'll never see the ocean or Kolvir again?[br][br]Something in her heart flares up in anger with that thought,[br]I won't be like my mother. I won't bow to him, or anyone.[br][br]So, the already-coltish Bellona steps out of her hiding place, adujsting her riding clothes and quickly running a hand through her hair. [br]"Weak? There are three of you here together." She grasps the hilt of her sword (a sabre made more for stabbing than slashing) and smile grimly. "Let them come".[br][br]The silliness of a ten year old girl daring Bendict to come fight is lost on her somehow.