Breyd, Scher and Zariya chased by NS mob!

Shortly after an assassination attempt on Jason linked to Caine, a large, vocal crowd gathers, formed of farmers, peasants, merchants and soldiers, all armed with pitchforks and torches, and carrying signs:

"LEAVE HEAD-FIRST OR FEET FIRST!" is the only polite slogan.

Breyd, Zariya and Scher all get to see them coming. They throw a few molotov cocktails ahead.

Breyd stands her ground. A closed and tight expression on her face. She's red-headed and obviously NOT Cainanite...and probably obviously not with Cher or Zariya for that matter. She glances at the other two on the street and makes a decision. She steps between them and the crowd, still facing them down. "STOP!" she shouts, her voice carrying a snap of command.

"This ain't Amber City, you can't sic rats on us!" says one of them, holding up a newspaper with graphic pictures of the "Rat Race Execution."

The crowd begin throwing dead rats at Breyd.

"Are you Mecklenberg idiots or in Amber?" Breyd retorts and continues to stand her ground, ignoring the assult.

"Neither!" The rats arrive at a rate best described as 'pelting'. Some of them look like they were deliberately chosen to have been rabid while alive.

"Then don't be so stupid. Paolo and Jason have done worse to their enemies! Pack it in!" Breyd isn't bothered the slings and arrows of a few outrageous rats. "You know if people would think for two seconds before jumping to conclusions..."

"Leave, Oberonista scum! Pack up and go!"

The crowd step up to slings and arrows.

Brandites in the crowd begin chanting anti-Oberon hymns.

Funnily enough, when it comes to arrows, Breyd isn't getting hit. Her chin lifts. "I am a guest of your king and as such, his person is sacrosanct to me while I am within his hospitality. This is the oath of bread and salt. I will leave when he bids me to and shall not be dictated to by a pack of RABBLE!"

The image of Jason appears. It's either a Trump effect or done with mirrors.

Jason doesn't look happy.

"The time I was pleased to see you was before I heard you were happily torturing people for Oberon's benefit. Anyone who feeds the Abyss Hags willingly is no friend of mine."

"Happily is another subject and I keep hearing about Abyss Hags, but nobody's bothered to explain this whole thing to me...." Breyd's face is still steady, but she looks irritated as well...

"Support from a daughter of Caine?"

"She means she wants to give us all suppositories! _Abyss_ suppositories!"

It's pretty clear at this point that not a single citizen in the very large crowd has any sort of positive opinion of Breyd, Zariya and Scherezade.

If this were a statistical sampling of New London, the three ladies from Amber might conclude the whole town hates them.

"I have never been a daughter of Caine. I have never seen the Abyss, nor will I ever have anything to do with it. Have I done anything to you and your people, to be seen in a negative light? I haven't plotted against you, I have done nothing but offer my help." Scherazade replies. Trying to lock eye with the one that questioned that she would help. To reach out to one person.

"Simple. Oberon keeps the Abyss Hags from going after him by offering them regular blood sacrifices. That's why he's such a pig on public executions. The Hags are there, each time!"

Breyd frowns. "At the executions?" She glances at the throng for a moment and then back at Jason. "Can we discuss this without the angry mob? I give my word that I will not attempt to harm you or any of your household. I also swear that I knew nothing of this. Certainly not enough." Her expression is candid and open for a change...

"You'll notice that the angry mob is still angry, but not terribly surprised at my announcement. Any Brandite knows what Oberon's been up to. The question is...did you? And it's me _and_ the mob you want to convince..."

"No. I simply thought Grandfather had a cruel streak that had to be pacified. He wouldn't be the first of us who was capricious," Breyd says, a back-handed reference to Dworkin. She frowns in a considering way. "I haven't heard very much about the Hags to be honest. I sort of thought it was just another one of the usual insult people flung at each other around here and didn't pay it an awful lot of mind. There's usually some outrageous accusations being thrown from one direction or another."

"There's documentation. Or you can look for yourself."

"I didn't have enough reason. I've been pressed with other problems. It wasn't anything I thought affected me directly," she notes dryly.

Breyd looks up again. "I can offer you no further proof than what I am saying. You will either have to believe me or not -- I was unaware I needed a defense about this and can't really provide an iron-clad alibi." Again, there's the air that this is the naked truth and a slightly disturbed expression in the dark eyes. "I don't talk to Brandites as a general rule of thumb."

The crowd hoots at that.

"Ah, stick your thumb in your eye!"

"So when did you stop talking to Rory!"

"Hey, everybody, Jason was dropped off by a stork!"

And various other hecklings.

Breyd quirks an eyebrow. "I said as a general rule of thumb. Not never. I tend to make exceptions if they can prove they're not zealous bigots who simply like to get their guns off." She refocuses on Jason. "Frankly, you're the first Brandite to mention it to me."

Scherazade simply peacefully moves to the side of the street to let the mob pass. Being that they seam perfectally intent on attacking Breyd.

When Scherazade moves, her guardsmen assigned to her move as well, looking grim and ready to draw weapons if things get any nastier.

"Keep moving," mutters a member of the mob...pointing to the road out of town.

Scherazade peacefully stands there. "I have done nothing to you, your people, or your royal and noble houses. I have no alliances with in the Family of Oberon. I have sworn fealidity only to keep my head. I am no Canaanite, if I was so I will divorce myself from their association. For past and present actions." she said firm but politely. "I have no qualms with the people of NS. I have come to offer my support to NS in any way that I can."

Breyd is really, really, REALLY interested to see how Zariya is going to take this.

Zariya's attention is ripped from Breyd and Jason hearing these words. Her head swivels to Scherazade, followed by the rest of her body as she stalks over to Scher, looking pissed.

Once she reaches Scherazade, she hisses, "You traitor. Whether or not you follow Caine is one thing, but to deny your loyalty to someone you swore fealty to?" She draws her scimitar, trembling with fury.

"Even Rory--Rory!--has a backbone! If you deny that our King is your lord, then you deserve to die. Since this is not His Majesty Oberon's land--" Zariya nods slightly towards Jason while not taking her eyes off of Scher, "--I will not shed your blood here, without King Jason's leave. But do not let me see you in Amber." She takes a step backwards, bare steel still in her hand. She issues a couple harsh sounding orders in arabic, and the other two guardsmen fall back to join Zariya's two.

Then, with some effort, she turns to Jason and bows deeply, "I am sorry to have caused such a scene, Your Majesty. I will take my leave, if it pleases you." Courtesan to the last, she manages to make her voice sound almost neutral, even though she's furious.

"It does," Jason says, visibly bewildered by the drama before him -- as opposed to his citizens, who were outright entertained!

The crowd:

"Caine raised a drama queen!"

"Nah, Fiona's daughter learned drag from her ma!"

The King:

"Shush!"

"To Oberon I have only respect. He at least has given me a chance to live. Unlike thoes that left me to live. To thoes that are responsible to what I have been through I will not tolarate silence. You know nothing of me, do not suppose that you do." In a dangerous tone.

Zariya blatantly ignores her.

The look Breyd shoots Zariya during this scene is almost compassionate. Almost. The look she shoots Cher is full of contempt. She really, really did try to warn her and even teach her in Breyd's own way. Pity Cher doesn't seem to know how to listen...

Breyd glances over at Jason's image. "Family spats are so ugly," she says urbanely.

"Prince Jason, with your permission I would wish to still offer my support to you and yours. I hold no opinions of thoes that are involantary involved." Scherazade replied.

"Scherezade, answer me this: whose daughter are you?"

"That information is still kept from me. I don't know. There for I keep no alliances unless they stand on their own without family support of blood. For I have listened to the rumors keep logs of them, and believed none of them." Scherazade replied.

"OK...Breyd, and Zariya, go home. Breyd, I recommend you learn more about the Abyss Hags and the debt Oberon owes dating back from Atlantis. Zariya, just go home. You arrive with hordes of men, you damn near behead someone for saying what you don't like, and in between your father sets off a bomb in my home. Go away.

Breyd opens her mouth, her dark eyes flashing and then she shuts it and nods. "I'll need to collect a few things from the palace, like my servants," she reminds him quietly and folds her arms over her chest.

Breyd and Zariya are allowed to collect their things...with an escort of NS troops. Given the mood of the crowd, that's probably a favor.

"Scherezade, stay or go, as you choose, but if you want I'll see what my people can do about sorting out your genetics. But be warned: the stories here can get damned weird. I'm the son of Bleys and Jasra and Brand, and my twin brother is ten years younger than I am."

"My many thinks Your Highness. For both the invitation to stay as well as the help in sorting out my parantage." Scherazade replied with a bow to Jason. In a slightly releaved sort of voice.

While King Jason speaks to Scherazade, Zariya motions to her men and stalks off, leaving the scene.

"Yeah, you want to support the red-headed devils!" mocks a member of the crowd.

This text is copyright © Lana Gjovig, Beth Major, Mitch Maltenfort, and Betty Osthoff; "Amber" is copyright © Roger Zelazny; "Amber" the diceless RPG is copyright © Phage Press. No copyright infringement is intended.

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