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Today's Topics:

1. [Secrets] Blake's Prequel Part 2 of 5 (wraith808)
2. Re: Kaizan Secret log 1 (Brian A. Dewhirst)


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Message: 1
Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2006 12:32:57 -0400
From: "wraith808" <wraith808@...>
Subject: [Enclaves] [Secrets] Blake's Prequel Part 2 of 5


After a while Onida came back downstairs, dressed in a pale green summer
gown, her hair pulled back into curls, with a large ivory comb holding the
ensemble together. Around her neck was a lovely necklace studded with
emeralds, with matching earrings complementing them. Over her arm was a
domino cloak and mask. She looked positively put out and was nothiding the
fact she wasn't in a good mood.

Joaquim was attired in his own borrowed finery, and the man sketched a
passable bow at the lady's advent.

Onida nodded her head briefly in acknowledgement.

"The necklace and earrings are not known to be yours, are they?" He asked.

Onida gave Joaquim a pointed look. "They are. I believe I've been known to
wear them on occassion, but no one is going to see them under the mask and
cloak. I wear them so I will present a... pleasant appearance to Ser
Winstan."

Sera Onida's expression was about as far from pleasant as could be imagined,
though. "Let's get this over with... and do try not to offend anyone," she
sniffed. "The only reason I'm going is to not insult the mayor. Don't make
me waste the effort," Onida grimaced.

With that the family carriage pulled up to take them to the party. Onida
pulled her cloak around her shoulders and entered, throwing herself into the
seat and pointedly looking out the side, towards the house.

The carriage rolled through the small whitewashed town and then began to
climb the hill on the far side. Unlike Ser Borasten, whose villa was
located in a quiet part of town, Ser Winstan's villa was locatted in that
most exclusive of locations, set among the green woods and hills.
Formidable iron gates marked the entrance to the long sweeping drive of his
villa. After first the road twisted through thick woods, but soon they came
out into a series of richly designed terraced gardens, the eye being led up
through a profusion of terraces and trellis with heavily scented, trailing
blooms until at last the villa itself was discovered, a rich rose red in
colour.

Already other carriages were folowing the twisting roads to the heights, and
disembarking guests in colourful dominos and masks to walk the last few
yards through the gardens which were already hung with paper lanterns,
providing a gentle illumination in the deep purple dusk that was falling ...

The doors and windows of the villa stood wide, and a small orchestra was
playing within, its music floating out on the evening air, and mingling with
the chatter of the guests.

There was no sign of Ser Winstan, the host, but Ser Lorant stood near the
door, disguised only by a mask and no domino (which was, perhaps,
appropriate for the host - or at least the host's son). He was scanning the
arrivals anxiously; when he saw Onida, he walked forward.

"There you are," he said. "I knew I could not mistake your walk, your
figure, my beautiful lady ... "

Onida glanced back at Joaquim at Ser Lorant's words. From the tilt of her
head and the glint of her eyes he could tell she was amused that Joaquim
thought she'd ever be able to go incognito.

He looked uneasily at Joaquim. It was clear that he might have recognised
Onida, but he did not have the faintest idea who her companion might be.

In a lower voice, he asked Onida, "Are you wearing it?"

Joaquim sized up the room, not bothering to respond to the dandy in hormonal
uproar. He moved off a slight distance to his left, and plotted the best
exit from the room, should one prove necessary.

"Wearing what?" Sera Onida asked blithely, even as her hand reached out to
rest on Ser Lorant's arm. "I'm wearing a mask... was there something else I
was to bring as well?" she asked in a careless tone.

"Oh, cruel Sera!" he replied. "That long jewel I sent you - I was sure the
box - a little trifle - would amuse you for a bare half hour ... " He
looked at her, his eyes almost greedy behind the mask. "Are you wearing it?
There's someone I want you to meet ... My father ... "

"I've seen your father before, Ser Lorant," Onida said hautily. "He =is=
the mayor.

He turned her and began leading her along a walkway covered with grape vines
twisted with bourganvilla, leaving Joaquim to follow or not as he chose.

"Not just my father, of course," he said, and now there was a strange,
subdued excitement in his voice. "Actually he has a visitor ... a very
important visitor ... "

Joaquim did follow, measuring the distance between Onida and her flouncy
friend as he went, and also judging the change in venue for new wrinkles in
the tactical puzzle he'd been working out.

He doubted that any of these popinjays would pose a threat, but he did not
live as long as he had by discounting potential threats.

"A visitor?" Onida stopped in the walkway. "Ser Lorant... how dare you do
this to me..." She stood defiantly, staring at the golden haired youth
through her mask. "You have to tell me who... You know I hate surprises,"
she snapped. "Bad enough having this party come as a surprise today. And
the business with my grandfather... Why, I'm not in the mood for anymore
surprises!" she pouted.

"Oh, you'll like this one!" promised Ser Lorant, with a nervous little
giggle. "Come ... come along ... it's an important minister of the King's
.. Lord Vallan himself! What do you think of that? In fact, I couldn't
stop talking about you at lunch, and how marvellous you were ... and this
whole masquerade was his suggestion! We were just going to have a few of
the Council round for dinner ... buit he declared he couldn't wait to meet
you."

He lowered his voice. "In fact ... he suggested that gift himself!"

"..ww..what?" Onida asked, her voice suddenly quite unlike her normal
imperious tone. "I... I feel quite faint, suddenly. I'm truly not up to
meeting someone so important.. Why.. does Lord Vallan wish to meet me?" she
ask, even as she resisted Ser Lorant's attempts to hurry her along

Joaquim took a second out to look about and verify if he'd been followed, or
if outher figures were present, or just the three of them.

There were plenty of people milling around the gardens ... all in masks,
some wearing dominos, and some wearing fantastic costumes. The liveried
servants who moved through the crowds offering drinks were, perhaps, armed -
as were perhaps a third of the guests he could see - but in all but about
five cases, he judged the weapons were for style only - and not because the
wearers had the faintest idea how to use them.

This is what Joaquim expected. He proceeded to proceed, and kept his eyes
out for easy exits and entrances.

There seemed to be three main routes out of the grounds - the main entrance
where guests were arriving - a smaller entrance for deliveries and servvants
... and a third path that led down to a lake through a narrow band of trees
... and then beyond, disappearing into more trees.

There seemed to be only two entrances to the glass pavilion where Ser Lorant
was leading them however ... the one through which they would enter, and a
second at the far end. There appeared to be a group of men in dark dominos
cluster around this second entrance.

Sera Onida continued to protest as Ser Lorant continued to lead them to the
pavilion. "You are asking too much of me," she told their host. "Please...
is it too much to ask that I have a chance to sit down and partake of a sip
of wine to calm my nerves?" she pleaded.

"You can do that after you've met Lord Vallan," said Ser Lorant pettishly.
"It's an honour to meet him, you know! Do come along ... "

Onida gave a petulant sigh and allowed Ser Lorant to take her to the
pavilion. She glanced back at Joaquim, as if she wanted to tell him
something. But instead she faced forward again and walked into the pavilion
at Ser Lorant's side, her hand still on his arm.

Joaquim advanced without any hesitation, so as to create the impression that
he was an expected part of the group going to see Vallan.

_____

wraith808 (wraith808@...)
Xfire:wraith808|AIM:darkaberrant|ICQ:1328185|yahoo:wraith808|msn:wraith808@h
otmail.com
Moderator for ANoA:Cyberia (cyberia.gamera.cc) and DarkAberrant
(darkaberrant.gamera.cc)


"Life that dares send / A challenge to his end, / And when it comes, say,
Welcome, friend!"



------------------------------

Message: 2
Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2006 16:16:16 -0400 (EDT)
From: "Brian A. Dewhirst" <dewhirst@...>
Subject: Re: [Enclaves] Kaizan Secret log 1


This is the first of what I expect will
be two logs which happened off-list.

To set the scene a bit, Kaizan is napping on the way to Greymere to face
Fiona

(this reveals a bit of his motivation in eye-stabbing her)

His dreams were indistinct at first. He was running through sand, but kept
sinking deeper. There were amorphous, dark shapes hounding him and he
himself pursued even greater dangers. He must catch the laughing woman
with
the red hair who rode on the back of the dragon before the hounds caught
him
and tore him to pieces. Sand filled his boots and scoured away his
clothing
until he was a fetal ball of pain, drowning in the sands as the hounds
arrived...

He was in the abyss again, wading through eye humors but unable to escape
the ocular cavity with the glowing jewel. Somewhere, far away, he could
hear
laughter. Suddenly, half of his world became bright and he saw a gigantic
version of Dot's face. He was suspended in some kind of snow globe, and
all
the sparkling flecks were plantaxy. With her frightening, sociopathic,
look
of childlike wonder, Dot shook the hemisphere and sent his world tumbling
through the thicker-than-water...

He was tied up like a roast, with an apple in his mouth. Around the table
were many women he had met since venturing into shadow. Clarisse, once
again
a woman but with an unusual beak-like growth on her face, was carving.
G'Dellan happily accepted a plate of his thigh, while Deirdre complained
the
meat was too stringy and tough. Dot was playing with her food, making
mountains and valleys out of his entrails. The woman whose name he had
forgotten, who he had loved and killed as a spy within the mountain lab
where Dot had almost managed to bring forth chaos, argued with the woman
who
had recruited him for the resistance. Each was trying to argue that he had
treated them more rudely than the other as the bones piled up on the
plates...

Finally, he mastered his dreams enough to call forth the image of his
distorted office once more. He sat behind the dark wooden desk which sat
on
the floor of crooked boards. Trophies of his latest case hung on the
walls... the Jewel of Judgment sat beside an abstract charcoal sketch of
chaos. His lost plantaxy was mounted below his pistol and sword, crossed.
A
half-empty bottle apparently held liquor so smoky that a constant stream
of
gray smoke trickled out from the glass bottle and fountained lazily over
the
desk. A highball glass of the smoking, bloody-colored liquor clinked
faintly
as the black icecubes slowly melted and shifted. His long-lost hat sat
upside down on a chair two paces away, and with his bare feet up on the
desk
he flipped coin-like beetles into it. Beyond the hat, and scattered
beetles
which hadn't quite made it in and had landed upon their backs, was a dart
board with a large hand-painted tarot card hanging from it by several
darts
which pierced the image it held... Fiona.

There was a knock at the door and Lillian, his faithful, bottle-blonde,
wiscracking secretary, stuck her head round the partition. "There's a
dame
here to see you. Classy."

> "No appointment, but I think I knew to expect her... you can show Ms. F
> in, then take an early lunch..." Kaizan says before glancing at his wall
> clock. "well, early dinner..."
>
> As she went to go get the woman, he withdrew the pistol from his top
> drawer and placed it on the hook below his desktop next to his knee.

The redhead sashayed into the office. A pale trechcoat, a dark fedora
tipped forward over her eyes which glinted green emerald across the desk
at
him.

"Well ... hello," she breathed, sweet and low.

> "Please, have a seat," he said with his best excuse for a charming smile.
> One of his poker-chip shaped beatles was climbing towards the rim of his
> glass, and he delicately picked it up with thumb and forefinger before
> snapping it into an arc destined for his hat.
>
> "Care for a drink? I think I have a clean glass in here," he said as he
> wrapped three fingers against the side of his desk above the drawers.
>
> The whole while, he was studying the woman before him... his eyes
> lingering on her face after he had drunken her in from bottom to top.


She was a long cool drink of a woman to take in. A mint julep with a
sting
in the tail - or possibly the tale.

"I want to find a missing girl," she said. "My daughter. I believe she's
fallen into bad company."

> "Well, why don't you tell me about the situation... starting with her
> name? Once I know the situation, then we can discuss my rates..." Kaizan
> asked as he pulled a notebook and the stub of a pencil out from his desk.
>

"She's my daughter," said the woman. "Her name is Clarisse. Do you have
a
cigarette?"

> Kaizan fished a half-empty pack from his desk without looking. The brand
> was 'el Diablo cigarettes' and showed a caricature of Tobias' face with a
> pair of cartoon horns and a pointed gotee drawn on in thick black lines.
> As he placed two in his mouth and lit them with a lighter, he asked "So...
> she's run away from home, then?" before passing one to the woman across
> from him.

She tooks it and inhaled deeply, tilting her head back so that she smooth
bob fell back from her face, revealing that perfect porcelain profile.
"You
could say that. She had a history, Mr Kaizan. Always chasing after the
wrong men."

She looked at him directly. "And I'm prepared to pay handsomely to get
her
back."

> Kaizan returned her look with his own cool stare. After an almost-alkward
> pause, he said "Mrs. F, I understand that you are very, very wealthy and
> have some very powerful friends... I know how much your daughter means to
> you, so... I'm afraid I must ask. Exactly by whose standards do you mean
> to pay me handsomely... how much does Clarisse mean to you?"

"I could offer you money," she said. "But I think I would rather offer
you
power. Boudless, unlimited power. You've touched Chaos, haven't you?
You've felt the potential of the Logrus.

"How would you like to control it?"

> "Ahh... well, first, it seems we've broken character," Kaizan said as he
> sat up alertly in his chair and extinguished his cigarette into his drink.
>
> "And second... I did not ask what you could do for me, I asked what it was
> worth -to you-. Is it your 'daughter' you seek, or simply a lamb to bleed
> over a foolish man's mistake? Do you pretend you care about Clarisse, and
> would risk your life for your wayward daughter?" he asked as if it weren't
> rhetorical.

She threw back her head and laughed. "Oh. Mr Kaizan! What do you think?"

And suddenly there was a snub-nosed revolver in her hand, pointing at his
heart.

> His threatened heart skipped a beat, even though he had been expecting
> this since his secretary walked in.

"No," she said, "don't get up. And don't slide that top drawer open
either.
Put both hands flat on the desk where I can see them."

> Kaizan sighed, and moved slowly to place his hands on his desktop, by the
> edge... only to kick the loose top with one leg as the other braced on the
> floor, one hand guiding the hardwood top into a shielding orientation as
> it crashed towards her, while the other grabbed at the pistol he had
> carefully placed in the hook below the top before she had come in.

"Very nice," breathed a voice in his ear. "Now ... why don't you put that
down on the desk? Or do you want to shoot the one in front of you, and
find
out which of us is really a clone?"

> "And suppose you're all clones... why not prove your point by shooting
> your sister here, if she means so little to you?" Kaizan asked as he kept
> the pistol trained on the 'Fiona' that he could see.

"We're all inside your head at the moment," pointed out the Fiona in front
of him. "What does that tell us about you?"

The other one laughed. "It tells us ... that you need us," she suggested.
"It tells us ... that you want to come to us, to our side. After all,
Deirdre ... so determined to prove she's just one of the boys. My dear,
that battleaxe! Wasn't there always a better way?"

> "Considering the fates of some of my past female aquaintences... it is
> hardly a mark of distinction or admiration that you wind up in my head. As
> such... I believe we can forget the rest of your suggestions with regards
> to the psychology of the situation. As for your presumed sister's location
> and disposition... yes, she has a few screws loose," Kaizan said as he sat
> up slowly. He allowed the gun to drop as he did so, then turned slightly
> to see who else was speaking.

There were the two Fiona clones, both identically attired in black and
white
- which set off their red hair and redder lips most attractively.

"And all those years hiding out from us, obsessing over Corwin ... that
can
hardly have helped, can it?" purred one of them.

"You know, don't you, that we're the only one who can save the Universe?"
asked the other.

> "I rather thought that stealing the Serpent's eye contributed a good bit
> towards saving the universe," Kaizan said dryly.

> "You are of course very intelligent... however, as I brought up earlier...
> I do not believe you possess at least one crucial factor to save something
> as important as the universe... you lack the capacity for self sacrifice."

The lips of the Fiona in front of him quivered with laughter. "And you
think this ... self-sacrifice ... is important? Is it not better to be
able
to sacrifice others as necessary?"

> Kaizan snorted. "I didn't say that you should be prepared to get -only-
> yourself killed, now did I... but ultimately, you lack commitment to your
> goal. The blood of a sneaky little patriot flows in my veins, and I know
> the importance of... committing to an objective, as did Caine. I suspect
> Brand knew it as well... and it is he you must oppose, in the end. If he
> is prepared to lay everything to waste, to kill himself and destroy the
> cosmos utterly to rob you of victory... what then, when you have run out
> of others to sacrifice? Your solipsism is -weakness- Fiona."

The Fiona beside him smiled. "We've spent millennia creating those whose
self-sacrifice is inbred. There's an army there of clones who are
prepared
to die for us. Brand was detroyed long since - all that remains are a
last
few flicks of malice. Our enemy now is a what and not a who. And the
Aunurni have seen that clearly."

> "Oh... I think you'll be startled at how much of Brand is still around...
> and so long as you are not prepared to commit yourself, and your conscious
> opponent can threaten your safety... you will always have that weakness.
> Sacrifice Merlin, sacrifice Clarisse, sacrifice me, sacrifice Deirdre,
> sacrifice Bleys, sacrifice your clones... it all won't matter until you're
> ready to go all in."

"No?" she said softly. "I think we'll see."

And suddenly she was gone and he was alone in his office.

No. Not an office. A desolate plain - and the wind was howling through.

(And then, Kaizan managed to wake up.)



------------------------------

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End of Enclaves Digest, Vol 25, Issue 35
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