Charity's Diary

Once more unto the Keep, dear friends

We had a lot to do. Fred had to get his Shamen to summon an abyss portal to get Merlin's troops here, to Elysium. Then it would be off to the Keep, armed with souped-up guns, a few extra Abyssal warriors, with handy blasting power, Cordelia, and "newbie", Isla a sorceress, was fresh from the Courts of Chaos. But as usual, things did not go smoothly.

Alfred was still missing, and for some reason unknown to me, we had silently agreed that he should come along for the ride. My memory of his ultimate failure at the keep was being strangely mollified by a vague sense of family kinship - part of me wanted to just forget about him and his strange Gnome fetish and his general hindrance in any fight, but the other part wanted to give him another chance. In fact both he and Allaghan still seem to be rooted in their past. Yes, I long for the days of tedium and an end to this almost constant sense of mortal peril, but I now care little for the world I left behind.

Since then I've walked through an infinity of worlds, developed powers beyond mortal reckoning, talked to gods (or at the least, avatars), become a Queen to a country, and am currently attempting to stop the seemingly invincible might of an all powerful super demon. Why I should now be content to revert to my former life is inconceivable to me.

I managed to persuade Allaghan that it was far too complicated and unnecessary for him to go find his own troops and bring them to Elysium. My troops were here and nominally in charge, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Fred soon came back with the Shamen, and after a bit of palaver with Merlin, all his troops were carried through a Abyss "Gate", plus an unexpected visitor; Mandor. I give him the guided tour of the battlements, including a quick visit to Mr Ed (The Unicorn) and ultimately sent him on his way to Deidre, where I later learned she confirmed and clarified things Mandor had heard, second hand, at the courts.

Mandor told me that he'd thought he'd found Coral's child. It was apparently safe, but he wouldn't expand on the matter. Also, he briefed me on the reason of Isla's and Cordelia's rift, which Mandor diplomatically described as some kind of psychic transgression during part of their early training together. Fair enough, I thought, and we parted company. I wasn't going to get involved if I could help it, but I know whose "side" I would be on.

With Merlin's men here, it was off to see Isla, and see what she could do to help. She had set up quarters (quite pointedly) a couple of rooms away from Cordelia. She answered her door and behind her, strewn on the floor, were notes and papers. She claimed she was doing a bit of research, and after a bit of prompting agreed that she was "encouraged" by Merlin to come and offer her services. She listed her skills as sorcery and was somewhat more organised than I had ever seen Alfred.

I reckoned that she would probably report back to Merlin (if she survived) with a first hand, and probably more reliable account on the "who's" and "what's". She did (somewhat obviously) try to probe me on Cordelia's apparent magical abilities, perhaps to compare with her own, but I must be thinking like an Amberite, or I must have felt some protectiveness over Cordelia. In either case, I kept quiet, and after filling her in on the plan of action, drew the conversation to a close and went to fill Cordelia in with the same details.

She took an age to answer the door. I did conceitedly wonder whether she'd made herself decent for me, but I was not really in the mood for it at that moment. Perhaps she was shy? Surely not?

She could, on hindsight, have been in communication with someone else, but I reckon she would have more of an attempt at speed if that were the case. Perhaps she was merely "racking" spells. I surprised myself even thinking these thoughts when I should have organised myself more professionally. In any case, our meeting was closed without much to report.

Both she and Isla would await my call, when we would be ready to go to the Keep.

Meanwhile, Allaghan had knackered himself out imbuing one of the guns with power to keep it working in the Keep's shadow realm. I had considered doing likewise, but I got sidetracked organising everything else. It would likely come in useful later, defending Elysium, should my assistance be required.

After a few abortive attempts by the Shamen, to open a abyss-gate into the Keep (too much interference). This second time the shamen worked, I brought up the Abyss sign and watched them in action. we used a Cordelia-inspired trump to Carnelian and walked the pattern. It made much more sense that time. Drassil, Alfred noticed, had changed slightly, since our last visit, and had grown/swollen slightly. Exactly what this meant would have to wait.

I walked into the centre of the pattern, and trumped everyone else in, using a trump of Cordelia, she'd made (and later, gave to me - which was nice). There was no sense in everybody tiring themselves out. We all joined hands, and using the mental image that Mandor gave me, and I asked the Pattern to take us there.

And there we were, in front of the doors to the fountain of power. There were no guard, which was odd, but their absence was explained when the doors refused to budge. On investigation, it appeared they were locked with Pattern magic. Brand's handiwork we suspected. This was going to be hard!

Allaghan muttered something about looking for the book (which had been lost during our first visit here) and his accursed sword. I snapped at him to stop, mistakenly thinking he would start scrying through the pattern lens, but he was merely going to search. He found his stupid sword, up a few stories, probably in the guard room. The book remained undiscovered. We would need it, and hoped they hadn't found it, or discovered its true purpose.

I returned to the task at hand, slightly regretting my outburst (though it felt rather satisfying in a funny sort of way). I tried to gain an insight into how it was locked, by attuning my mind to that of my experiences with Brand's. As I worked my subconscious into the appropriate shape, I could hear a voice in the back of my head, increasing in volume; muttering, whispering, cajoling and encouraging me to go further, to greater extremes. It/I/he said we/I was weak and that we/I should go further and complete the process. I/we ignored it (just) and raised the pattern against the door and pushed.

Nothing happened. The voice continued to encourage me. Brand was there, I could feel him. I could smell him. It was very tempting to lose myself in his power, but I pulled myself together. Just in time. As I came round to my own senses, the others were looking at me slightly strangely, as though they'd seen something there as well. Perhaps I shouldn't try that again. Not with Brand's mind, at least.

Finally, I remembered Cordelia's success with her use of tendrils and asked whether she could have any success. She said that she probably wasn't strong enough, but if we joined minds, perhaps we would be able to break the lock.

It was phenomenally exhausting, almost as bad as walking the pattern, the first time. But it worked. The doors swung open to reveal a room beyond.

I expect things will get a little heated now.