TheCommodoreTheMajorAndTheBaron

From IMiA

The light from the castle gradually fades. Soon, the castle is lost in the darkness behind them.

It is difficult to say how long they walk. There are no landmarks nor is there a sense of time or distance.

Eventually, there are scents in the darkness. The sea. Blood. Burning metal. And a sound like waves crashing against an unseen shore.

"Carefully," Sean says, probably unnecessarily. He opens his left eyelid and takes a look around....and smiles. "Ah. We might have just found our guide." There is renewed vigor in his step. And soon, Cass can see him too.

A figure leans casually against a palm tree. Fairly tall with a slight, atheltic build, and long features. He has dark brown hair, a thin mustache, and emerald eyes which almost glow, like a cat's. There is a blade on his hip, and he idly dangles a mace from his right hand -- almost like a cat playing with a string. He smirks in the darkness.

When O'Donovan sees him, Cass can almost feel his tension level go down. He is still cautious, but clearly this figure is a known quantity.

"Cass," Sean says, "I don't believe you've met Baron 'Sric?"

"No," she says, eyeing him warily, "I am quite sure I have not." Her hand hovers with the sword partially drawn, her gaze on 'Sric, but her head turned to note Sean's ongoing reactions in her peripheral vision.

"No need for the sword," Sean murmurs. "It's your soul you've got to worry about, not your body."

Baron 'Sric's eyes move over Cassandra's form. He grins and chuckles. "The former is spoken for, alas. But the latter certainly has appeal."

She shoves the sword back into the scabbard with a 'click' and frowns at the Baron. "The latter has also been pledged and is therefore not worth discussing."

"So," Sean says, "is this the part where a mysterious spirit guide shows us the way out of this non-place?"

Cass's scowl deepens.

"What have you been reading?" Baron 'Sric asks in mock horror. "Bah. Actually, this is the part where I comment on the truly astoundingly bad predicament a favorite son has gotten himself and his girlfriend into. You do both appear to be dying in the mundane world. I find i have a good sense for such things."

"Do you at least have something in the way of useful suggestions?" Sean asks. "Because I don't think we have time to listening to gloating at the moment." "Gloating? Moi? You wound me, lad," Baron 'Sric frowns. "How far would you have gotten without me. I ask you." He turns to Cassandra. "Don't mind him. He's a good lad, really. But he is a bit high strung you see."

The Baron turns back to Sean. "Be sure not to screw this up," he nods toward Cassandra. "She's a keeper. Even with that nasty mark of doom business. You're perfect for each other." He muses on this for a moment. "Enough," he says at last. "We can discuss your love life later. You have to have a life first."

He turns to regard both of them. "Now, what can we do about that? I suppose it counts for something that Sir Alisdair's whelp is free thanks in part to your efforts. His cousin too is freel. I know you were concerned. Of course," he frowns, "the other cousin is fading away. I'm sure you are deeply troubled by that."

He studies them for a moment. "So, what is your plan? Claw your way back to the mundane world and your broken bodies?"

"Broken bodies heal," states Cass, giving Sean a look from the corner of her eye. "Favored *son*, Sean?"

"Metaphorically only, I hope," Sean says under his breath.

She says nothing in reply to 'Sric's other comments. He body language and the hand on O'Donovan's arm announce quite clearly that she is ready to move on, leaving the Baron and his love affair with his own tongue behind.

"I like her. She has spirit," the Baron says to Sean. To Cassandra, he remarks, "Sometimes broken bodies are but a shell vacant until death when the spirit has been torn away. You have been torn from your mortal shell, girl. Then, you both chose to continue in this fashion to help another. Very noble indeed. But heroism is not without price. You remain trapped and you have been noticed. You are marked. Even if I help you back to your bodies, you can not reenter them. The spell which ripped your souls from life is still active and I can not break it."

"So how can it be broken?" Sean says thoughtfully, as if he is mulling over some complicated scheme.

"Why do you ask questions whose answers can only make you unhappy?" Baron 'Sric asks Sean. But, rather than wait for a reply, he continues speaking. "The physical aspect of the spell can be broken in the mundane world. Even now there are those who gather to do just that. Unfortunately, this will most likely permanently sever the ties that bind spirit and shell. At best, you would remain disembodied shades while your physical form died." He studies the reactions of the pair.

Cass regards him coolly.

"Alternately, the caster could be killed. None of us has a prayer of doing that. But," he smiles, "there may be a loophole. There were multiple magicians involved in the spell." He looks to Sean again. "This reminds me. Have I ever told you that the adage 'too many cooks' applies to magick as well? No? Well, it does. Where was I? Ah, yes. Too many magicians,'" he smiles evilly. "This may be turned to your favor. Your lady friend here," he nods toward Cassandra, "cleverly crippled herself with her master's blade and in so doing freed you from her part in the spell. You did something similar. I'm certain I don't need to remind you of the details. But, there was another sorcerer casting in your circle. The twin."

"I already don't like the direction this is going," mutters Cass.

Sean, on the other hand, looks almost relieved at 'Sric's words.

Baron 'Sric nods. "I understand. But isn't it true that sometimes in war sacrifices have to be made to save others? Make no mistake. You are at war. The players are gathering their forces to them and not all your colleagues are on your side. Lives are already being lost. There are victims from this business of whom you are unaware. Your duchess for example."

"Something to do with her daughter?" Sean speculates.

The Baron shrugs. "Your duchess has twice now been pulled into the spell. Ironic that the two men who love her most will unwittingly kill her when they break the spell."

"Let me see if I'm understanding this," Sean says. "If they break the 'physical' aspect of this spell back in the real world, we -- Cass, myself, Juliana, and Genvieve -- will be permanently severed from our bodies. On the other hand, if one of the casters -- namely, me, Cass, Genvieve, or this mysterious 'other' -- dies, the spell is completely broken. Correct?"

The Baron shakes his head. "Not precisely, no. If, somehow, the other was destroyed, we would all have much bigger problems than we do now. But, as I say, I do not believe it can be done." An odd expression crosses his face. "At least I didnt until recently," he whispers. Then, he turns his attention back to Sean. "Your assessment of the repercussions of breaking the physical aspect of the shell are largely accurate. However, there is one mistake. If either you or your lady here were to die, it would not effect the spell. You have already dealt with your responsibility for it. All that would happen is that you would be dead, people would mourn, and some of us would be rather put out. No, only Genvieve needs die to break the spell and free you and your duchess."

Cass scowls deeper.

"Then the first order of business is to communicate to them not to break the physical aspect of the spell, no?" Sean ponders.

"That seems prudent," the Baron agrees. "Have you a plan?"

"You say we cannot return to our own bodies. Could we possess another's?" Sean thinks of something else. "Maybe even each other's, or Genvieve's?"

"Or Julianna's?" asks Cass, looking for a weak link..... and an undamaged body.

"Interesting," the Baron admits. "There would, of course, be risks."

"Oooh," Sean says, "good idea. Probably easier to possess than a sorceress, eh?"

"Yeah. And not currently on the brink of death, either." Cass's look at the Baron is grim. "How do you benefit from all this?"

"I prefer not to lose a dutiful son at this time," the Baron nods toward Sean. Then, looking back to Cassandra he states. "Your Duchess could be more receptive. She is not yet a sorceress and is not in the company of the author of the spell. Nor does she have the unpleasant allies that watch over the twin. Still," he ponders, '"It will be a most difficult task. It is no easy thing for a spirit to control another in Amber. Until recently, it was all but impossible. Even now, it may prove impossible within the confines of the Castle."

"She is not in the presence of the author of the spell. In the castle," Cass's look turns sharp. She lets the statement hang there, and turns to another question. "Unpleasant allies. Who are they?"

"Demons," the Baron says with evident distaste.

A tight grin escapes her. "Unlike you," she prods... before growing serious again. "What sort of demons?"

The Baron grins. "I am something else entirely, lass." before he answers Cassandra's question however...

O'Donovan quirks an eyebrow at the Baron, surprised that he would find demons distasteful, but not really wanting to get sidetracked at the moment. "Wait -- Genvieve is with the other? How? Why?"

"Her spirt was noticed as she lay dying. I imagine something similar happened to you." He looks at them and smiles.

"Not exactly," Sean says. "Unless you mean how we were noticed by Cass's Lady and you?"

"Precisely so," the Baron smiles. "Had the twin been more fortunate, her demon masters would have found her as I found you. Alas, her role in the spell helped draw another's attention to her."

"Was there..." Sean has trouble finding words. "Was there something about what she did that was especially attention-getting?"

The Baron sighs sounding surprisingly like a disappointed teacher. "She employed blood sorcery taught her by demons. She was, from a certain point of view, instrumental in the carnage that occurred in the pub." He looks thoughtful and adds, "This is what comes from associating with demons." He turns to Cassandra then. "Returning to your question, lass-which the lad here so rudely interrupted-rogue demons unhappy with their proper place in the great scheme of things. They seek artists and poets and hedge witches and offer them power to serve their causes. I do not much like demons. Capricious and malicious, the best of them."

(and you just steal souls, Cass does not say)

"Blood," murmurs Cass, looking at her scarred palm, then to Sean's eye. Her eyes flicker with thought. "Blood from an unknown source, of an unknown quality." She chews her lip. "And _the other_ is in the castle." She starts absently drumming her thumb on her scabbard. "In the castle." Her eyes meet the Baron's briefly before coming to rest on the idly swinging mace. "You know who this is. And you can't. Or you won't. say?" She'd like to know which.

"Names have Power. Especially that name. The oldest name," The Baron whispers. "I dare not say it. It might be spoken by a mortal man with little fear. A mortal would be beneath notice. But if one such as i were to say it, it would be heard. The consequences would be dire. Especially now."

Sean looks to Cass, obviously impatient with this turn of the conversation, yet curious despite himself.

Cass gives Sean a pointed look, but says nothing more on this subject. "So," she says to him. "You have any bright ideas?" Her eyes are shadowed with some thought she isn't sharing.

"I have ideas -- I'm just not sure they're bright," Sean replies. "Much as I'd like to know who's behind this, seems to me the first order of business is telling Phillipe and company not to break the spell. Once our allies aren't actively trying to kill us, we can figure out what the next step should be.

"I don't like it, but the best way I can think of to communicate is still possessing the Duchess. Don't suppose one of you has a better method dreamed up?"

Cass sighs, "I've never attempted to possess someone." She shivers. "I don't like the idea, but if I can't get back otherwise..." Her eyes go distant a moment before coming to sharp focus on O'Donovan. "You are taking what this guy says at face value. Why should I trust him?"

"He is my loa. Like all of his kind, there is a bit of the trickster in him -- but I have long trusted him with my life, and he has never let me down." Sean shrugs. "And it's not like we're seeing any other viable options..."

Cass is quiet for a few moments, obviously thinking hard. "What then, is your realm, Baron?"

"The sea."

She goes still for a few moments, thinking. "Then we are back to blood, then, no?" She watches his reaction.

The Baron nods. "Blood is ever with us. There is no escaping it. This is perhaps even more true now than at any time since the Beginning."

"And Genvieve picked just the wrong time to be messing with it today." Sean sighs. "So, possession?"

"Does this realm have a congruence with the realm we know?" asks Cass. "I think I need to be near myself when I do this. Or at least, near her." She doesn't look happy, but she's game to try this... Her right hand is flat on her thigh, and she is rubbing the scar tissue nervously.

"You are never far from your mortal shells," the Baron replies. "You are bound to them."

"Isn't that boundary somewhat severed at the moment?" Sean asks.

The Baron shrugs. "You are familiar with ghost ships. Ever able to see the coastline of home, but never able to sail into port. The same applies to you. You can not return to your shell, but still you are drawn to it."

"Lovely. Well, then, shall we try this thing?" Sean says.

"Where is she, then, in relation to my body? Is she near? How do I find her?"

"I got the impressions our bodies have all been taken to the castle infirmary." Sean looks to 'Sric for confirmation.

"Indeed," the Baron replies. "They are deep within the walls of the castle guarded by at least two princes. Though,' he frowns," it must be said that one of the princes is there to make a sacrifice. Interesting," he says more to himself than to Cassandra or O'Donovan.

The Baron looks to O'Donovan and continues. "Your Duchess sleeps within the castle as well. Yet she is not so well guarded. Those who might protect her are busy elsewhere. They do not know that she too is a victim in this dark business. Go. Walk to her. Bring your power to bear and concentrate on your Duchess. You will be drawn to her."

Cass nods, then glances at Sean before she closes her eyes and thinks of Julianna. She begins to walk.

Before she can take a second step, Sean whispers, "Cass!" to warn her, and then takes her arm. "Thank you," he says outloud with a glance at 'Sric, and then he too closes his eyes and concentrates on Julianna, walking along with Cass.

"Stay together," the Baron says. "You'll find it helps."

-- Main.GingerStampley - 11 Jan 2005