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Post by Admin on Mar 29, 2020 9:58:40 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/gPpHzrT/chaossign~png The icy rain, always the icy rain these days. One or two storms wouldn't be unusual during an English winter but lately, the storms have become frequent and with greater fury. Dorian know his land of Victoria like the back of his hand, knows its moods, gentle summers, bouts of wrath in the winter, but these past few months have been something beyond the normal parameters of this shadow. The sort of thing that can only be explained by the influence of powers greater and beyond this place. It was predicted that after that nasty business in the Courts of Chaos resulting in Dorian's cousin Merlin taking the throne a time of unbalance would afflict Shadow but nothing to the extent now seen in the city. Dorian, at the window, can see great rivers of stormwater surge down the street carrying with it sheets of the evening newspaper and occasional tophat.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2020 15:09:37 GMT
The icy rain is pounding on the window. Dorian watches for a moment as a parade of horse-drawn carriages hasten to take their occupants home, laboriously making their way through the rising waters. A bright flash of lightning tears the sky and a lone horse rears up neighing when the sounds of thunder resounds. A group of street children huddle, shivering, under a narrow porch.
« It’s been going on for days, sir. » says the old butler in a worried tone. « I’m afraid the roof can’t take much more of it, and the water’s flooding the attic… and my room… »
« The house is quite spacious. You’ll just have to move to the second floor for this occasion, in the red bedroom » Dorian retorts, as he lies down on the sofa in front of the crackling fireplace. « Be kind, Alfred, bring me a another brandy, will you? »
Immersed in the cosy atmosphere of the room, Dorian muse on the recent events. The coronation of Merlin, the insidious, stinking influence of Chaos that corrupts everything. Plus, the recurrence and virulence of the phenomena in Victoria are worrying. Perhaps Alfred is right to be concerned after all. I should go to Cathay to see if the seasons are out of whack, too. And maybe in Amber as well... If anything goes wrong, i bet all of them are on the warpath already. Besides, it would be a chance to see the lively streets of my childhood again.
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Post by Admin on Mar 31, 2020 4:42:12 GMT
{OOC: you can continue on.]
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2020 14:18:30 GMT
Dorian reaches out and grab the old, damaged leather pouch on the piedestal table to his right, and pulls out his Trumps deck. He goes through the cards and comes up with one that represents a mountain village, next to a high wall of dark stones.
« Your brandy, sir.» says Alfred, coming from the back of the room with a tray in his hand.
« There’s no need fot that now, Alfred. Finally, I’ll have to go away for a while.» answer Dorian without taking his eyes off the card. « And i want to keep a clear head.»
« Shall i send for a hansom cab ? It’s raining hard, still.»
« That won’t be necessary. I just want to check something.» If Victoria is impacted by strange events related to Chaos, Cathay should be as well, given their proximity, Dorian thinks for himself. « See that Lord Henry’s visit is postponed. I should be back soon, but you never know ».
As Alfred retires, Dorian takes his jacket and cane. Having put the Trump deck back in the pouch, he concentrates for a moment on the card of the Nan Zyuh village, gradually feeling the coldness. The background appears more clearly and Dorian steps in.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2020 14:26:07 GMT
Dorian sets foot in the soft earth of the small path that separates the rice fields bordering the village. The sun is getting closer to the horizon, and the peasants who wade in the water with their back bent all day have already returned to the village.
On the top of the rampart nearby, a guard lights the braziers which will signal the presence of the gate to the travellers, and dissuade the brigands who ply the roads of Cathay from getting too close to the village, at the foot of the wall. A flurry of arrows is often enough to stir up trouble their ranks. Although their presence is unpleasant further out in the countryside.
Dorian walks through the filthy alleys of the village. Miserable houses of straw and clay flank each side. He stops in front of the large wooden building that serves as an inn and dominates the other hovels.
He opens the door, sits down at a table, and orders a black lotus tea from Cathay. Then he looks at the other customers, trying to strike up a convesation to find out if there have been any particular events in the Shadow since his last visit.
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Post by Admin on Apr 5, 2020 1:55:24 GMT
The people of the town huddle and shiver in the unseasonable cold that has gripped the area. The customers in the inn also complain about the cold and the difficulty of travelling in this weather. Rumoured reasons about the cause of the cold range from the usual change of seasons and weather, to how the Emperor has displeased the gods, to invasion from creatures out of legend. None of them has seen any of the creatures though.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2020 7:41:57 GMT
Dorian frowns. Two occurrences are not enough to draw formal conlusions, but in his heart of hearts, he feels that these disturbances are being repeated elsewhere in the Shadows.
There is no need to linger any longer in Cathay. Taking leave of the villagers, Dorian goes out into the cold and raises the collar of his jacket. He takes the Trump deck out of his pocket and draws a card he hasn’t used in a long time, a card that he has left too much. It’s time to pay a visit to his family in Amber. Or what’s left of it.
Dorian concentrates on the Trump, and a few moments later, he faces the facade of a wealthy house. He hears the noise of onlookers in the great thoroughfare nearby. He adjusts his clothes and, from the knob of his cane, he knocks on the heavy wooden door of his childhood home, a little touch of joy and anxiety in the heart.
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Post by Admin on Apr 7, 2020 7:30:07 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/vXMqSVB/chantris~jpg The weather in Amber is even worse than in Victoria, with a cold, heavy rain drenching Dorian within seconds of arriving on the doorstep of Eaglesign Manor, the ancestral home of Lord Chantris. The knock echoes in the space beyond. Ancient, but still standing straight and tall, head Butler Rolf answeres the door. If he is surprised to see Dorian appear without having sent a letter first he doesn't show it. "Ah, Lord Dorain. Welcome back to Eaglesign. Let me take your coat and things. The Lord Chantris is in the library and I am afraid that your mother is residing in one of the rural estates taking care of the horses."The front rooms of the mansion are a welcome, familiar sight. Red and gold banners line the walls with oil paintings showing great battles fought by the Chantris family over the centuries.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2020 16:53:13 GMT
Dorian shows a tense smile as he hears Butler Rolf scratching his name. Thoughts are racing through his mind, bitter. Dorain… I ain’t a fantasy dwarf! Have i been gone so long you can’t even remember my name, old thing? Dorian represses a bleeding remark, take a deep breath, and says, sending a manly tap on the old man’s shoulder: « Ah! Butter. You haven’t aged a day. I feel like i left you yesterday.»
Dorian comes in, shake his wet jacket, and goes on: « The weather is terrible! I remember it being milder at this time of year. How long have you put up with showers like this?»
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2020 21:32:21 GMT
"The storms come and go, Lord Dorian, much more frequently than before. They say it is good for the trees but I have always thought that the vegetation was growing quite well before all this. Some issue involving your Uncle the King, I have heard, is the cause of all this tempest."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2020 23:38:07 GMT
Dorian redoes his wet hair, masking his interest in Butler Dort's revelations, and continues in a flippant tone:
« Oh, yes, of course. No doubt it's an original way to bridge the Palace on the slopes of Kolvir and Rebma's, by making the ocean overflow with torrential rains. Nicely done. How long has it been going on? »
Dorian casts a circular glance at the entrance hall and the paintings present, trying to remember his presence within these walls, and noticing the little things that might have changed in his absence.
In a more intimate tone, he puts a friendly hand on Butler Rolf's arm: « I know I'm not expected. But I kinda like to be where I'm not expected, you know that. If Lord Chantris isn't too tired, I'd like to see him. But it could also wait until tomorrow, really. I'm thinking of spending some time in Amber, and seeing my mother too, of course. Do you think you could prepare me something to stay here for the night? I've never been very fond of the coldness of the castle and the guest quarters. »
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Post by Admin on Apr 10, 2020 4:35:51 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/vXMqSVB/chantris~jpg "Certainly, sir. Your rooms are just as you had left them; only weekly dusting has been done to keep them fresh. I will have the maids change the sheets and freshen the place.
"I know your grandfather would be happy to see you. He does have a scheduled appointment with a visitor from Deiga later this afternoon but he is free at the moment."The rooms Dorian can see are much the same, only a few pieces of Rebman artwork are new.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 10, 2020 19:56:35 GMT
As they go up the stairs to the library, Dorian breaks the silence and starts again: « The name Deiga doesn't mean anything to me. Is it a kingdom of the Golden Circle? »
As he listens to Butler Rolf’s response, Dorian feels many memories and sensations coming to the surface as he walks through the house. As he finally approaches the library, he can almost touch this young blond child who runs to meet him in the corridors, laughing, an old-fashioned ghost of a happy and carefree past.
Dorian stops in front of the massive door, both impatient to find his parent, but also worried to see the ravages of time on him.
After a few seconds, Dorian knocks at the door, savouring in advance Lord Chantris' outdated turns of phrase.
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Post by Admin on Apr 11, 2020 4:21:03 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/vXMqSVB/chantris~jpg "Deiga is not a member of the Golden Circle Treaty, no. It is located quite far out as these things are measured, I've been told. Had a bit of incident when Prince Caine was killed there a few years back. There is still a bit of diplomatic friction between the Amber and her since then." Rolf replies. The butler knocks then opens the library door for Dorian. The room inside has also been slightly changed since he was there last. The skylights and large bay windows would normally fill the room with afternoon light but now just show splotches of fat raindrops and darkness occasionally broken by flashes of lightning. Lanterns placed about the room provide a dim light except around certain portraits on the walls: Lord Chantris, Dorian's mother Lady Mira, Darius' uncle Lord Callum, Gerard, and a surprising new addition, Princess Llewella. Chantris sits in a well-padded leather chair, his frail old body drowning in his usual outfit of heavy robes. On the table beside is a pile of books and he holds a large volume in his hands. He looks up and smiles as Dorian enters. "Dorian, my boy! Sit and tell me what has been happening since you left home to travel."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2020 18:18:48 GMT
Dorian approaches to greet his grandfather affectionally. He knows only too well the strictness of Lord Chantris and his embarassement for this kind of demonstration, but for a moment, Dorian can’t resist testifying his feelings, in the intimacy of the room. Lord Chantris is as Dorian remembers, martial bearing, strict appearance, tall, thin, piercing blue eyes, and that particular nose that Dorian inherited.
« It was such a long journey that i can’t say how long I’ve been gone! Heureux qui comme Ulysse a fait un beau voyage … says the poem by Du Bellay.» For a long time, Dorian recounts the highlitghts of his journey through Shadows: Shadow Earth, Victoria, Cathay, the bordr of Chaos, and so many others.
« But I’ve missed our chess games. I’ve never found a tougher opponent than you.» says Dorian with a wink to his grandfather.
« I’ve been planning to come back and see you and Mother for a long time. But to be absolutely honest, it was some very strange events that precipitated my coming. The Shadow in which i reside is prey to disturbing weather phenomena. As well as others that i have passed through. The Shadow dwellers are adapting or dying, of course, but i was surprised to find that Amber seems to be affected by the same trouble. Could this be a Shadow Storm? What does the royals think? Have they told you anything? Rolf hinted that King Random was no stranger to the torrents of rain pouring down on the City. »
After bombarding Lord Chantris with questions, Dorian listens carefully to his answers, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle back together.
« I’ll go greet Mother too. Have you heard from her? I had some questions to ask her about my father. But maybe you have some things to tell me about him yourself. I know the tensions that exist between elders, and as the saying goes, a wise man is worth two. Especially since it seems to me that portrait of Aunt Llewella wasn’t there befoire I left. No doubt things have changed in my absence.»
« So now that I’ve found you again, I want us to spend some time together. If you have the time, of course. Rolf told me you’re meeting a plenipotentiary of Deiga. May i attend your interview?»
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