Chantrisdale has been set as the scene for the final battle in the war
with Virga. The dale runs north-south, with a broad, shallow creek
running along the bottom, and with large outcroppings of chalky rock
dotting the slopes. Gentle slopes to the north mark the beginnings of
the valley and grow steeper until they are almost sheer cliffs of white
rock to the east and west. Then they continue a little gentler again
southwards, a steep and rocky incine that marks the end of the dale.

The dragon Mordacious has been... educating the Virgans on the subject
of agoraphobia, and has brought back reports of the Virgans' numbers and
positions.

There are perhaps 40,000 Virgans to the south, and another 10-12,000 to
the west. The plan is for the Virgans to be driven into the dale, a trap
from which they will not be able to escape.

Antonio, atop the northern ridge, withdraws his deck and shuffles out a
card.

Martin goes over last minute checks with the ranks of archers in hiding
up on the cliffs.

Antonio regards the trump, and after a time, nods.

Niara remains where she is, gazing out over the dale.

Take the Mona Lisa. Make her darker and elfin boned, and substitute her
straight brown-black hair with ebony. Widen her almondine eyes. Color
them bronze, like those of some leopards. Occasionally, fleetingly,
re-draw that famous smile onto a Dionysian mouth. Give her slender,
fragile hands, impossibly tiny feet, and indolent grace that is the
stuff of scientific treatise. Mitigate that grace with fits of
achy-looking shambling. Mar her otherwise smooth skin with windburn and
fading abrasions. Then shear her lustrous hair until the back is well
above the ears, and the front is jagged bits of black poking out from
under a stiff leather cap. Dress her in more black, with touches of
night-purple, all sleek and functional. Drape a horseman's bow between
her shoulderblades. Coil a hook-barbed cat 'o nine on her belt. Tuck a
decidedly plain, forearm-length blade into the sheath on her right hip.
Make her smell like lilacs and liniment.

When she arrived with Antonio, allegedly as his squire, she greeted
Martin with a small smile and a wave.

Antonio mutters to himself, then holds out his hand to the card.

Random appears in a cascade of rainbows, followed quickly by Benedict
and Bleys.

Random steps through first, moving away from Antonio as soon as he can
to allow the other's through.

Random is not a tall man, nor, at first glance, a terribly impressive
one. Sandy blond hair falls randomly over his forehead and down over his
collar, shifting restlessly with him, and bright hazel eyes watch the
world with mingled suspicion and humor. His face is angular, thin and
vulpine, a few lines gathered around the corners of his eyes and across
his brow that seem to hint at the burdens he now carries, those burden
set into form by the gold coronet around his forehead as well as the
thick, gold chain around his neck, from whence hangs the Jewel of
Judgement. Lean and agile are the proper words for his form, even down
to his narrow fingers which dance restlessly about him. Never does he
seem to still, though sometimes he can almost achieve that fragile state
through a dint of will, a finger or toe will inevitably betray him. 

He is garbed in an overcoat of brown shot with red and orange loose
enough to conceal a nice set of armor. Loose red pants are tucked into
his tall brown boots which gleam slightly as if freshly polished. A worn
sword hangs from his right hip, two daggers on his left.

From the clifftops, Martin notes the shimmering arrivals before Antonio.

Antonio smiles as the three appear, "Welcome to my humble abode."

Niara stands a number of paces behind Antonio, holding the reins of a
dun mare as well as those of his big black Tharnus.

Bleys appears last of all, the prismatic shimmering fading behind him.

Random nods to Antoni, smiling faintly. "Thank you." He glances to
Bleys, "I believe now would be an appropriate time."

Benedict nods faintly to Antonio.

Tall and thin, Benedict stands just over six feet tall with narrow
shoulders and a lean build. Shoulder-length, straight brown hair frames
a thin, dour face and strong jaw. Piercing hazel eyes flank a round,
flat nose above a thin-lipped mouth that rarely smiles.

A full length dark yellow tabard covers the plate mail Benedict wears
beneath it and the garment bears a Unicorn rampant. Shoulder paldrons
peek out from the edges of the tabard and also bear the device, etched
into the metal of the bowl. A metal rebrace and studded leather vambrace
protect his arm while metal plates protect his legs. Heavy leather boots
cover his feet. The armor makes his form look bulkier than it is.

The hilt of a broadsword peeks over his right shoulder, suspended by a
leather baldric for an overhead draw. The blade is thinner and longer
than a normal broadsword, but its simple, leather wrapped grip and
battered pommel and guard indicate its utilitarian nature. The weapon
does not bear any special adornments and seems common.

Antonio quirks his brow. He glances to Bleys.

The man before you stands tall, with thick hair the color of fire. He
wears a well-groomed beard and moustache behind which his warm smile can
often be seen. The colors he wears are suggestive of the fires he was
named for - vibrant crimsons and oranges, impeccably tailored in his own
inimitable style. Perceptive eyes may note the well-worn grip of the
sword sheathed in an ivory scabbard, somewhat at odds to his stylish
appearance. His hands bear three heavy rings, weighed down with a single
large stone each: ruby, emerald and sapphire, the devil himself dancing
in his azure eyes and reflecting off the sapphire. His every move flows
with the fluidity and grace of a born warrior or dancer, though his
manicured hands and insightful expression denote a scholarly inclination
as well.

Antonio points

Bleys nods to Random with a smile. "Right. It's time for the final war
conference, people."

Daneel stands a couple of paces to Niara's side.

With a last word to an officer, Martin makes his way towards the group.

Random raises a hand to gesture Martin over when he notices him already
walking. With a slight smile, he turns his eyes to Bleys.

Martin joins the group some minutes later, carrying himself along with
an easy, if odd, half-loping gait, the end of the crutch scratching
along the rocky surface. He greets the others there with a nod.

Antonio nods to Martin as he joins the group.

Random nods to Martin as well, though the majority of his attention is
on Antonio, Benedict and Bleys.

Benedict remains silent, pensive.

Random pages: Everyone isn't? Damn, then nevermind.

Martin casts an eye around the uncles and cousins gathered, watchful.

Antonio says, "Let us begin, then."

Random frowns a little, saying to Antonio, "What did you have in mind
for the big attack?" He moves back so that everyone can equally see each
other.


Antonio digs out a map from his pocket and kneels on one knee, spreading
the map out.

 to the map, "Currently our forces are deployed here, here and here. The
Virgans are here and here."
Random nods, kneeling as well to look more closely at the map.


Tall, lithe man wearing Laminan leather clothes. He carries two slightly
curved long hilted blades on his back. A leather headband keeps his
long, dark hair from his light grey eyes. He is clean shaven. (Tall as a
pine, swift as the wind, silent as a ghost.)

Antonio says, "The plan is to use the Jewel, Mordacious and a strike
force to attack both their encampment and driving them towards here," he
indicates Chantrisdale on the map, "Where the bulk of our forces are
waiting. Then we close the trap."

Martin glances Niara's way, now that everyone's attention is focused on
the map.

Bleys strokes his beard, his eyes following Antonio's indications as he
peers intently at the map.

Niara's gaze lifts when she perhaps senses the glance, or more likely,
decided to do the same now that everyone's attention is focused on the
map.

Benedict tracks Antonio's indications but says nothing.

Martin quirks a brow, having caught her attention, as if to ask how she
is?"

Random glances around the others assembled, one eyebrow raised, then
asks Antonio, "Do we have a good estimate of their numbers? What are
they in comparison to ours?"

Niara infinitesimally lifts one shoulder. She glances down, quick, at
his splinted leg, and then back to his face.

Antonio points to the southern Virgan encampment, "Roughly forty
thousand," he points to the western encampment, "And our best estimates
are ten to twelve thousand here, though they're bringing in
reinforcements all the time through the trump."

Martin replies with a similar lifting of one shoulder, and the hint of a
grin.

Random nods, "Would it be possible to shut down their trump bridge?" His
eyes move to Bleys. "That would disable their reinforcements."

Bleys half-turns to face Random, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Get me within range of the terminus of that Trump, and I'll do more
than shut it down..."

Niara's faint smile develops depth.

Martin's grin brightens a fraction, followed by a barely perceptible
nod, then he returns his attention to the discussion.

Random's eyes move to Antonio, slightly expectantly.

Antonio nods, "That should do it. The scouts that remain in Arden have
reported that Adamastians have declared support for us and have moved
their troops to defend the shadow paths that link both us and Virga.
That should prevent any reinforcements from there."

Random nods slightly to Antonio, saying, "Very good. Are we sure it
isn't a trap?" A breath later, he also asks Bleys, "What more can you do
than shut down the bridge?"

Antonio says, "The Adamasians have little love for Virga. As for it
being a trap, my sister has been to the encampment and seen what is
happening there." He gestures to Niara.

Her mouth quirks at one corner.

Bleys chuckles, ticking off his points on his fingers as he speaks. "I
can block the Gate, lobotomise the user on the other end, force my way
through to the other end, or drag the user back into our waiting arms."

Martin looks up from the discussion to glance towards Niara.

Random smirks a bit at Bleys, nodding him towards Antonio. He asks,
Niara, then "And you saw, Lady?" His tone is low, almost as if he
doesn't expect Antonio to listen to this again.

Niara senses Martin's expression flickers between "Yeah?" and "You
what?""

Antonio asks Martin, "Are the archers ready?"

Martin looks to Antonio, after a moment. "They just need something to
shoot at," he answers.

"Frankly, I am surprised they have lingered there as long as they have,"
Niara murmurs. "Preparations within suggested they were ready at any
moment for an advance, barring minor ... disturbances."

Antonio nods, "Daneel, are the Rangers are in place to keep the Virgans
from escaping?"

Daneel nods. "Yes, Lord Antonio, we are ready."

Random frowns a touch but nods. He offers Niara a slight smile and a
murmur of something pefunctory and polite, then glances back at Bleys,
Antonio and Martin, waiting until Antonio is answered, then asking
Bleys, "If you were to force your way through the trump gate, could
troops move with you?"

Niara mumbles something off-handedly about fractious mercenaries and
large scale executions for desertion, but does not lift her voice enough
to make it seem important.

Speaking of disturbances, the dragon comes into view from the clifftop,
swooping down to land by one of the outcroppings of rock that dot the
slopes. Someone has apparently fashioned a crude harness for Mordacious;
the dragon begins picking up small boulders and placing them on the
harness.

Random's eyes flick up. "Good idea," he murmurs, "whoever thought of
it."

Antonio arches his brow as he sees the harness on the dragon. Hecomments
dryly, "Leather does suit him."

Martin chuckles quietly at that, watching the dragon prepare.

Martin senses Niara glance up toward him as she absently smooths Binah's
mane into the mare's eyes, perhaps to distract her from the rather large
creature near the outcrop.

Bleys pauses for a moment, considering Random's question. "Once the
Gate's in my control, transporting troops should be relatively simple,
if tiring."

Antonio says, "Daneel, any more information about the spiders that the
scouts saw in Arden a few days ago?"

Martin becomes aware of Niara's gaze, perhaps, glancing back her way.
The corner of his mouth's pinched in an amused grin, one that he's
trying to hide by watching the dragon. He flashes a wink at her, and
looks away, still grinning.

Benedict considers Bleys for a moment.

Daneel nods. "They were seen briefly to the extreme west heading
westward away from Kolvir."

Antonio nods. "Good. Then with luck that's the last of them."

Random murmurs, to Antonio, "You might also want to consider the
possibility of a strike force to wherever that trump gate is coming
from."

Antonio says, "I think we'd be better served concentrating our energies
here, rather than worrying about the trump."

He quickly adds, "Majesty."

Random nods, slightly, "I would, though, be an advantage to cut off both
their point of resupply and escape." His tone is calm.

Antonio says, "If it can be closed all well and good, but any strike
force will be facing whatever reinforcements that the Virgans plan on
bringing through. I suspect that will be plenty."

Random's eyes, then, flick to Bleys. "I believe that is possible, as is
destroying the mind of the person holding open the trump." His gaze
returns to Antonio.

Mordacious flies off, eastwards, gaining some height before turning and
gliding back down to pluck a mule-sized boulder from the slope as it
passes. The dragon wobbles a bit, weighed down by rocks, but manages to
maintain its grasp as its wings beat heavily. Mordacious slowly gains
altitude as it commences an indirect route toward the Virgan lines.

Bleys nods agreement with Random. "Oh yes, I could fry his or her mind
once we're connected. You're the king, the choise is entirely up to
you."

Daneel raises his voice. "Your Majesty, may I speak?"

Random nods to Daneel. "Please do."

Niara casually brushes mane-hair out of her mare's eyes.

Martin looks to Bleys, brow quirked, like he'd like a word with him.

Daneel says, "Would it be possible to draw the person using the trump
here and capture him or her. Maybe he or she has valuable information
about if the Virgans have more trumps and from where."

Random turns back to Bleys. "I believe he said that was possible."

"We've seen no evidence that anyone this side has a Trump back to where
they're coming from," Martin speaks up after a thoughtful pause. "And
it's equally possible that no single person's holding that Trump contact
open for the Virgans to come through."

Martin shakes his head, breaking off the glance when he speaks. Forget
it.

Antonio says, "The rate at which they're coming through would suggest
they're just coming through one at a time, rather than as a group."

Bleys shakes his head slowly, replying to Martin. "Once they open the
gate, there's no need for me to have a Trump of the other side. I can
backtrack along the connection." He pauses before continuing. "It's
certainly possible that they're coming through one at a time, though..."

Antonio glances to Niara, "Did you see where they're coming through?"

Random asks, more a curiosity than anything else, "Could that indicate
the strength of the person holding open the gate?"

Martin senses Bleys' eyes rest upon him for a moment, flicking towards
Niara as a brief grin flashes across his face.

Bleys purses his lips, nodding. "It could, but by the time I could
estimate that we'd be locked together pretty tightly."

Random gestures a bit, "It's largely unimportant."

Niara says, "From a good distance. The ... disorientation was not what I
had anticipated."

Random turns towards Niara. "Disorientation?"

Antonio cocks his head to the side, a small frown appearing as he
regards Niara.

Niara scratches the back of her neck. "A number of my people are not
accustomed to walking through magickal cards. Perhaps there is a
physical doorway involved on the other side."

Antonio nods, "Possible."

Bleys concedes the point with a nod. "It's certainly possible."

Niara says, "A Gate of Dith-i-Zhen."

Niara shrugs.

Random frowns slightly, "Would that affect your skills at all?" he asks
Bleys.

Bleys' shoulders rise and fall in an elegant shrug. "I've no idea, to be
honest. It's never come up."

Random nods, "Would be interesting to find out. Would you need a boost
from the Jewel, or could I concentrate on the armies if we were to add
this to the mix?"

Antonio says, "They'll be gone from there anyway."

"Frankly, I think you'd be better to use the Jewel against the armies.
Virga's close enough to Amber that there shouldn't be much of a barrier
to overcome." Bleys replies, steepling his fingers.

<7/4/98>