The Herald announces: His Royal Highness, the Prince Rubrick of Amber."

There are a couple trumpeteers picking up their trumpets and giving a belated blaring of their shiny brass instruments.

Oberon looks at his latest arrival as he comes in.

Rubrick is of a moderate build with short blonde hair. He stands 5'10" tall and looks to be in his mid 30s. He is dressed in a dark green (almost black) suit and a ruffled shirt. Around his neck on a fine gold chain is what appears to be a bejeweled clock key. He carries a long walking stick, carved from ebony with silver tips. Soft white gloves cover his hands, and wears a white orchid on his lapel.

"Don't they teach you how to tell time?" Oberon says to Rubrick as he nears the throne where Oberon was snarfing truffles.

"I apologize, your majesty. I chose a rather, well, unfortunate method of travel, but I my path left me little other choice. I believe I have given myself an opportunity to make excuses." His expression is neutral, but the way he takes the last few steps towards the throne give away his discomfort with the lateness of his arrival and the possible consequences.

"Oh?" Oberon asks curiously.

"Where do you think you are going?" Oberon says spotting him stepping away from the throne.

"I wasn't leaving..." Rubrick says, a little nervousness in his voice. "I'm just a little worn out from a long journey."

"I wasn't prepared to be summoned here, a very short time ago I didn't even know that I was on a shadow, let alone understand the concept. You'll have to excuse me if I seem a little overwhelmed."

"Not excused." Oberon says sharply," A Prince of the Blood must stand ready to be able to serve Amber and her leige. That's me."

"I assure you, I stand ready to serve if called. If nothing else my life has prepared me for that in some fashion, I guess."

"Good" Oberon nods shortly in approval."I am calling."

Then Oberon smiles and changes topics,"I guess I had better knight you." he indicates the still present cushion in front of the floor,"Kneel boy."

Rubrick shows a look of relief in the sudden change of demeanor. "As you command, your majesty," he says, taking another step forward, then kneeling before Oberon.

Oberon pulls out that by now, familiar sword to the rest of the Court and sticks it out playfully, clutching it like a golf club, steps back for a wide swing and turns the blade to aim for Rubrick's neck.

Rubrick's knuckles turn white as he presses them hard into the floor in an attempt to retain any sense of composure.

"FORRRRRRRRE" yells Oberon playfully as the swift sword changes its path and trajectory and angle and lands gently on the shoulder of Rubrick and then the other,

"Damned divots." Oberon mutters as he taps Rubrick on the head.

"I dub thee Knight of the Order of St. Germain." Oberon says,"Arise, Sir Rubrick."

He instinctively grabs for the walking stick laying beside his right knee and rises to his feet. "Thank you, your majesty," he manages to say, obviously uncomfortable with some parts of the ceremony.

Then, suddenly, any visible signs of discomfort disappear as a neutral smile appears on his face. He looks towards Oberon waiting for his next command.

"You should scoot and go and meet your cousins,"Oberon says shooing him off.

This text is copyright © Craig Lucas and Mike Toth; "Amber" is copyright © Roger Zelazny; "Amber" the diceless RPG is copyright © Phage Press. No copyright infringement is intended.

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