Gabriel's Diary
July 28, 2001
© 2001 Ameer Tavakoli
Chapter CI
As Raj untwisted my twisted, broken bones and set them back
into place, I sank into merciful oblivion, but my dreams of her, and where
I encountered her continued to torture me.
_____
After walking the Pattern, I appeared in a great caldera,
with the dry, pumice wind raking my skin. With my energy flagging, I found
sanctuary within a small cave and rested. When I came to, I realized that
the cave was actually a small passage, at the mouth of which was a dry, dessicated
corpse of a small griffin, chained in place. Why was it there? And what was
it guarding?
Cautiously, I worked my way up the tunnel until I came to
a door that was locked (interestingly enough) from the outside. Using a spell
of power, I destroyed the bolt, and entered a room filled with paintings,
trump sketches, and trumps. Many of the trumps were of (and were from) the
Courts of Chaos. I could only sit amazed as I realized that these drawings
were of Dworkin's hand. Excitedly, I turned to the bookshelves to see his
journals. But my excitement quickly turned sour as I realized that his bookshelf
had already been somewhat ransacked, and quite few of the texts on the wall
looked like ones on the shelf in Fiona's laboratory.
I scanned through several of the earlier texts, and they were
written in a dialect of Thari that was so old, that it was unintelligible.
However, the later texts were somewhat more approachable, if only barely,
With hours of study, I might be able to understand it better, Scattered throughout
the later editions, one saw a recurring Pattern drawn, as well as elaborate
sketches of a woman dressed in Greek armor.
As I took a breath to think about the implications of all
of this, I happened to notice that there was a hallway off of this room, with
two doors, one of which led to a bedroom, the second of which was locked,
from the outside as well ... Curious, for whomever was in this room was being
held prisoner ... but could any cell really hold Dworkin, assuming that the
artist and the prisoner were the same man?
The door opened after a little resistance, and inside, inscribed
on the floor, was the same Pattern that dominated the drawings in Dworkin's
journals. In the center of that pattern was the dried body of a man, with
his head blown out as if something had erupted from it ... bloody footprints
walked from the skull to the door I had just opened.
I examined the Pattern, and saw that it was not radiating
any energy, and neither was the body. I then called Magni and asked him to
assist me.
Together we examined the journals, and began to put a codex
to them. Given time, we both felt we would be able to read them.
After some time, we decided to take a break. I took Magni
back down the tunnel, briefly observing the corpse of the griffon, and descended
into the caldera of the volcano. Interestingly, the volcano was polished smooth.
Magni, on close observation noticed that faint within the basalt was inscribed
a Pattern. In a pyrotechnical display worthy of my character's assassination
attempts, he supplied power to the pattern and proceeded to walk towards its
center. Unfortunately, an explosion blew him off of his construct throwing
him forcefully into the wall on the far side.
In a rare display of compassion, I actually ran to his aid,
and attempted to heal him, and that was when SHE appeared.
______
After some time, I could feel that not only was the pain gone,
but that I had been healed ... I could also smell the residue of Aedan's spell
construct on me. The healing spell was efficient, ruthlessly so ... and I
shall miss the freckles on my left arm, however, that is a small price to
pay considering my second near death experience in one day.
I awoke to find Raj and Aedan discussing something that just
didn't make sense. Eric as King? Benedict alive? Martin in hiding? Perhaps
I would have been better off dead.
______
I turned to look behind me and saw her walking towards me.
She looked exactly as Dworkin had drawn her. She was magnificent. She didn't
seem to listen to the words I had to say and continued to approach. She bent
down to put her hand on Magni. Taking the opportunity, I placed my hand on
her arm and tried to make a psychic connection with her using the Fount.
She ... was empty inside, as if there were no memories upon
which to make a person up. She knew that her role in this Universe would be
to create order, and that to do so would involve conflict. She bent to take
Magni's ring. Ignoring his command to get out of the way, I tried to intercede;
as an afterthought on her part, she shattered and broke my wrist. Her last
thought I could feel before she broke contact with me, was an image of Dworkin
as both father and mother to her.
Then, after placing the ring on her finger, she lifted her
sword into the sky and flew away.
Placing a tourniquet on my upper arm, I tried to draw upon
whatever sorcerous energy I could to heal myself, but the energy here was
vanishingly small, and walking the pattern had destroyed every racked spell
I had in my possession.
Desperately I pulled out my Trump deck and pulled out Aedan's
card, but he was blocking, and I didn't have the energy to push the connection.
I then reached for Giselle. Her powers of sorcery were different than mine,
but surely she could assist me in my time of need.
The trump grew cold and she appeared before me, although physically
not as she used to be. Unfortunately, she was held hostage somewhere, and
could not come to me, nor could I go through leaving the books and journals
behind. It would be difficult if not impossible to come here again, and I
would not lose what I had worked so hard to gain. She was able to give me
a ring with a healing spell racked in it, but after working on it for some
time, it would have taken me too much work to try and make it my own.
I could feel my pulse weakening as I pulled out Gregory's
trump, if this failed, it would be my end. Fortunately, he accepted my call,
and came through. I instructed him as to what I wanted taken from the study
and he was agreeable to getting them for me. He then trumped Raj, and Raj
pulled Magni and I through.
______
Aedan's story brought me back into the present. Looking into
the corner, I saw that Gregory had brought back the books I wanted, as well
as many of the sketches. Seeing that, the tension I felt was eased.
Apparently, we have been drawn into an alternate version of
events, all of which seems to be due primarily to Aedan healing Martin in
Tir. Gregory's theory that events have reset themselves and then moved forward
seemed probable but I am uncertain about that, as well as of my own goals.
The Amber I had claimed loyalty to, the people I care about,
and the actions I have performed are lost ... not just to the flowing sands
of time, but to a mystical experience that I am still at a loss to explain.
Who is my father to me now, and what am I to him?
In a daze, we moved forward. Gregory felt some desire to go
to Arden to meet Julian (still alive), and see if he can help us. I led, but
the way to Arden was difficult, extremely so, and I could not carve a shadow
path to it. Was it because I could not concentrate? Or because the path was
blocked?
Pulling up, I explained the problem, and Gregory felt that
our best path was to go through the Fey realms. With distaste in my mouth,
we went. The fey realms bother me, they always have and they always will.
While we were there, I made note of those who did not treat me or my cousins
with respect ... they would all die by my hands. No one treats me or my family
carelessly.
Eventually we appeared in Arden, spoke to the Arden guard
and made our way to Amber. I looked about me for some anchor by which I could
set myself, but my home on the hill was gone, my garden I had painstakingly
raised a thing belonging to another time. At the castle, I could see the West
tower. With every step, and with every glance thrown towards us, I felt more
and more that I do not belong here.
Our interview with the King was long and tedious. The only
thing that was real in my mind were the journals from Dworkin's study, but
even their importance was fading to me.
Sitting in my chambers, I tried to study them, to make some
sense of them, but it was pointless.
I try and think about why I am here. What is my purpose? The
only thought that springs to mind is that we could try and set things aright,
and make our family work together to fight the forces of Chaos, but I simply
cannot be bothered. This family is not mine, this king is not my king, and
the throne and the crown here are not ones to which I am beholden.
Tomorrow Gregory wishes to go look for his father. As mine
is now dead to me I shall join him.
Thus ends the log of Gabriel
Played by Ameer
<previous
Gabriel's Journal end>
Chronicle
from this session...
Quotes
from this session...