Challenge to the Rules (10 Apr 2003) Lord Explorer Thomas issues a challenge to the Rules of Mirari.

Harcourt Manor, Back Yard
The back yard of Harcourt Manor is not entirely restored to the grandeur of ages past, by any means. The garden shed is much used, and though most of the tools are put back in their proper places at the end of the day, there is a good chance at any given point during the day of seeing sawhorses, a wheelbarrow, a ladder, a toolbox and assorted tools out and about, thanks to the work in progress. It is best to watch one's step, and most parents would disapprove of children running willy-nilly across the yard, what with the chance of some random undiscovered nail or misplaced hammer about.

The various people gathered in the backyard of Harcourt Manor have awaited, with varying attitudes, the return of Max and Sabrina and the anticipated Challenges. As time trickles past, the Lady Sorceress Nymuae becomes increasingly edgy and impatient, several times voicing her concerns about the Palace, and wondering aloud if she should return to the Siege.

By contrast, John Cortlynn seems more at ease than ever, enjoying the pleasant summer day. He engages -- or attempts to engage -- everyone in conversation about Mirari, especially about the Destroyer. "I haven't done nearly enough research for this role," he explains. "How am I to portray this man -- or should I say 'monster?' -- when I hardly know what he's like, much less what he's done?" His demeanor is so warm and friendly that even Nymuae finds herself answering his questions, though she plainly trusts him no more than Tom does.

But now, Sabrina and Max have returned, and assorted preparations have been made. Some of the players wear makeshift costumes. There are a number of odd props here and there, some old cushions, some buckets, some gardening implements - at first glance, strewn about randomly, but upon closer examination, it looks like an obstacle course has been set up next to the tool shed.

But in the realm of make-believe, there's a much different scene unfolding.

"Who would seek to challenge the Rules of Mirari?" booms the voice of Pelles, Sorcerer of Caer Bannuac. He stands in the center of an ancient hall built of roughly-hewn granite blocks choked by twisting vines and green moss; he is adorned in dark and cowled robes trimmed in gold, and leaning heavily upon a gnarled oaken staff.

There is a flash of grey near his feet, and a glimpse of silver, as a small Siamese cat darts around the folds of his robes, then leaps and alights upon a pedestal, where the Book of Rules rests, its cover closed.

Mists hug the floor of the chamber, and swirl around the many entrances that lead in -- six, maybe more, for broad columns obscure line of sight and much of the light cast by the torch sconces mounted at intervals along the walls. Vaguely humanoid forms are only hinted at in several of the archways, for they have not yet stepped forward into the light.

The mists swirl and part as the figure of the Lord Explorer steps forward. with a calm assuredness, he eases back his cloak and looks around the room. "I, Thomas, Late of House November and of the Golden Hawks, present a challenge the rules which form the foundation of our world. Too long has it remained trapped by mistakes of the past. Today -- here and now -- that will change," he says strongly and steadily. He looks around the room. "I challenge Rule Twenty-Six! Too long has it threatened our world. Do those present wish to hear that which we have agreed should replace it?"

"Welcome, Lord Explorer," Pelles says, "and speak that which you propose, so that all may hear."

Sir Lefallon follows close by Thomas's side, a young boy with a pageboy haircut, wearing a silvery cap and chain mail, with a tabard of brown and orange bearing the sigil of a rabbit. He looks about nervously, a marked contrast to Thomas's confidence, before taking his place by his friend.

Following behind Simon steps a girl in the garb of a handmaiden of the court of Mirari. She has cradled in her arms a purse over-stuffed with odds and ends of her travels, and she smiles as she sees the wizard. "Hello Sorcerer Pelles of Caer Bannuac! Hello," she twists and offers a wave to the pedestal, "Bragwaine the Familiar!"

Sorcerer Pelles nods solemnly to the maid. Bragwaine just gives her a cross-eyed look and says, "Meow!"

A tall figure in silver armor emerges from the mist to stand beside Thomas. "I am Redmane, Knight of May, and I pledge my support to the Lord Explorer in his Challenge of the Rules," Redmane announces, keeping it simple. She gives the Sorcerer a nod of respect and recognition.

The sorcerer returns the nod as well, though Bragwaine just starts grooming herself.

"Oh!" exclaims the blonde girl with a blink. "I'm Angel! Angel Umbrecht."

Thomas glances and nods to those who have presented themselves. He then turns back to the Sorcerer Pelles and intones, "By the wise counsel of those present, I present the rule we wish to write into the foundations of Mirari as a replacement to rule Twenty-Six.

"'The Lord Melchizedek, Protector of Mirari, shall lead all Good Folk in defending the crown from the cursed Warlock of the Year's End, fearing that should he take up the Crown of Mirari, his fiery temper and great wrath and his army of evil monsters would spell the end of Mirari. Neither he nor the Lady Angelique and the Lord Bram, who were much worried over the disappearance of Lord Eoin, realized that a sphinx's curse had befallen their brother. Until fifty Years had passed, none would know the nature of the curse, until it was revealed to them how it might be broken by a wise cat. And her master, a kindly wizard. For on the day that the Sphinx's riddle was answered, the curse would be broken, and the Warlock would be cursed no more.'"

Thomas pauses to take a breath, then adds, "Those who wish to challenge it, may do so now."

Pelles nods. "There are three who have the right of veto. Lord Bram, Lady Angelique, and Lord Eoin. The challenge made in this hall shall be heard by all who have ears to hear, and a stake in this matter. I say this, to these three - have any of you objection to this change to the Rules?" He leans on his oaken staff, looking to the shadows above.

Towards the back of the hall, a black-haired woman in a long gown of white and green stands, quiet for now, watching. There is an air about her oddly reminiscent of the sorcerer Pelles, although they look nothing alike.

A cough interrupts the stillness following the declaration. Beside one vine-strewn wall, the figure of a man, hitherto unseen, lounges. His back is to the granite block, one leg bent and his booted foot propped against it. The hood of his cloak is pulled low over his eyes. As all eyes turn to him at the cough, he raises his head. "Well, well, well. These Rules that have held for fifty Years are now deemed insufficient, are they? And the young pups of Mirari think they can forge better ones. If I let them start, dear Sorcerer Pelles, where will they stop?" He tosses his head, and the hood falls away, revealing a handsome face -- beautiful, even -- framed by waves of long dark hair. A smile curves upon elegant lips, but his eyes are soul-chilling, filled with cruelty. "I am Lord Eoin of January, founder of Mirari. I forbid this alteration."

"Then," Pelles says, "we must resolve this conflict, as instructed in the Book of Rules. There must be a neutral party chosen to arbitrate, and to administer three tests - one of Spirit, one of Body, and one of Mind."

Sir Lefallon gulps, drawing himself up straighter. "That's Lord Eoin," he whispers to Thomas.

"Well, couldn't you decide, Sorcerer of Caer Bannuac? That is, if you would like to, and if you feel you are a neutral party and can swear to it," suggests the blonde maiden.

Sorcerer Pelles raises an eyebrow. "I am willing and able, so long as both Challenger and Challenged have no objections?"

Angel turns to peer past the shadows at the Warlock across the hall and asks, "Do you agree, Lord Eoin of January?"

"I agree with Princess Angel's choice of challenge arbiter," Thomas replies to Pelles. The raven-haired explorer looks to Lord Eoin, expectant. His trademark smirk creeps onto his expression.

Lord Eoin turns a languid eye to the stooped man, and then surveys the five people arrayed to promote their new Rule. "Ah." He taps a finger to one cheek, walking forward. "There's few left, if any, who may be called a neutral party by me. The Sorcerer Pelles will suffice as Arbiter." He stops with a half-dozen yards between him and both the challenger and the newly-chosen arbiter.

The princess regards the Warlock she has met before with a mixed reaction. All though she seems to try and maintain a neutral expression a concerned frown creeps across her face and the way she fiddles with the straps of her purse as she faces betrays her nervousness.

Sorcerer Pelles says, "Let it not be said that I am not prepared for such an eventuality. Since you have made your choices clear, then I propose that there shall be three tests. Challenger and Challenged shall be expected to face each one - though each has the right to appoint a Champion for each given test, to take in his stead. The first test will be that of the Cupbearer of the Titans. The second test will be that of the Shrine of the Pegasus. And the third test will be that of the Tome of the Hydra. Choose your Champions for each test now - or that you shall take the test yourself - and the tests shall begin."

The tall man's glance strays to Angel, at her fidgeting. His expression alters, subtly, his smile widening just a touch. It seems to her that he winks at her; then, he is gazing directly at the sorcerer again.

Redmane leans in towards Thomas, and whispers to him, "The first sounds like a test of the Body. I'd be happy to accept that Challenge for us."

"It is for the Challenger to name his champions, first, I believe," Lord Eoin says, in a mild, pleasant voice.

Angel's brows rise when the Warlock turns his attentions to her. She blinks at the man and then shakes her head when he turns away. "His lordship is so creepy sometimes. And oh, if you like, I'll be happy to do the Pegasus Challenge. It sounds like something I'd be good at maybe -- I like pegasuses," she whispers to Thomas as she leans towards him, her gaze remaining on Lord Eoin.

The woman in white glides forward, her eyes on Lord Eoin. She stops beside Thomas, however. "Lord Explorer. I will undertake the Tome of the Hydra. If you wish."

Thomas listens to the announcement of the challenges and nods. When Agatha leans in, Thomas nods and whispers, "So noted." He then glances at the Princess and ponders. "And I shall, Lord Eoin. For one of your age, you are certainly impatient," Thomas replies with a rakish grin. "Each of usbefore you have our strong and weak points. However, as Mirari can stand strong united, so shall we. Each of us shall face the challenge that seems to be most suited to the strengths of the individual. The test of the Cupbearer of the Titans shall fall to Lady Knight Redmane, unequaled in strength of arms and battle prowess. The Shrine of thePegasus falls to the Princess Angel, one whose will and compassion has guided her through these dark days. Lastly, I will taker the Tome of the Hydra, as the mystery it implies intrigues me; as do all long and forgotten things. That, and it's long overdue that Lord Eoin and I resolve our longstanding disagreement," Thomas announces.

Sir Lefallon quips as a whispered aside to Redmane, "Besides, Tom-- er, the Lord Explorer is real good at finding books." He manages a smile.

"Very well then," Sorcerer Pelles says. "So you have decided, and so it shall be. Lord Eoin, do you wish to take the three tests yourself, or have you Champions in mind to take your place in one or more of them?"

"Why, did I have a quarrel with you before this day, good sir?" Lord Eoin glances at the challenger with apparent surprise. "You'll have to forgive me. The memory is the first thing to go, I'm told." He offers a nod to Pelles. "If I may have a moment to consider. My challenger has ample patience and shall not mind, I'm sure."

"As you wish, Lord Eoin," Thomas replies with a nod.

Sorcerer Pelles nods silently. Bragwaine, meanwhile, bats at the ribbon that serves as a bookmark in the Book of Rules, hanging off the side of the Pedestal.

The Warlock turns his attention to the five who came forward with their proposed Rules. "Refresh my memory, Pelles. A Champion is obligated to do his all to win, is he not?"

"That is correct," Sorcerer Pelles says, "but only if the Champion agrees to serve in that role."

The princess turns to Sorceress Nymuae now that it's Lord Eoin's turn to chose. She steps towards her and whispers, "Do you want to return to the Palace? I feel you'll fret if you're left to wait, and I really worry about bringing you here if you feel your power is better used to help there."

"Thank you, kind sorcerer." Lord Eoin strides forward, his cruel dark eyes running over the five, finally settling on the smallest boy. He gazes at the brown-haired youth, then closes his eyes for an instant. When they re-open, his gaze is suddenly normal, almost vulnerable by comparison. "Sir Lefallon. Will you stand as my Champion in the trial of the Cupbearer?"

Angel glances off when Lord Eoin makes a decision, and shefurther whispers, "His lordship isn't magicking Simon is he?"

Nymuae places a hand on Angel's shoulder, not looking at Tom again after he selected the champions. "I don't know. No, he's not enchanting him. Not right now. But I ... I don't like the way this is going, Angel. Pelles should be able to handle this. But .... "

Sir Lefallon startles. "But-- what--" He stammers, feelings chasing themselves across his face, and then settles for questioning surprise. "Why should I? You're the Destroyer! And besides, don't you want the Rule to be changed?"

Thomas doesn't look concerned. "Do what you believe is in the best interest of Mirari and all those involved, Sir Lefallon. I can't try to influence your decision," he says softly, green eyes locked on Lord Eoin. "You are your own person, and you choose your own destiny."

"Would you want your life and your world changed at another's whim? This is not my Rule. I stand against it. You were my friend, once, Sir Lefallon. I saw your plight and rescued you from a world that appalled you and a life that tormented you." The tall Warlock takes another step forward, then drops to one knee to look into the boy's face. "Will you not stand for me now?"

Sir Lefallon looks more anguished. "I..." He looks at Thomas, then at Redmane and at Angel.

Redmane isn't so sure of things as Thomas is, but still gives Sir Lefallon an encouraging smile. "Whatever you choose will be the right thing for you," she tells him.

Thomas looks to Sir Lefallon. "You have a good heart, and have been a good friend. Do what you feel is right. I believe in you," Thomas says with a smile.

The princess seems to draw reassurance from her sorceress friend and she nods slowly. "Okay," she says as she peers at Simon and watches him as the Warlock makes his speech. When the boy turns his gaze to her she steps towards him and gives him a reassuring smile. "I know that you've never been very happy in Ainigton. But just remember as you help people who hurt others so do you become like those who hurt you. Those people you hate so much -- you'll be just like them. So please don't chose because you want revenge. That said chose what you think is best for everyone, you too, and I will never think ill of you for following your heart."

The Warlock remains as he was, on one knee, one hand held out, as if in friendship, or supplication. He watches Sir Lefallon, silently.

The younger knight nods but looks none too happier to Redmane, Thomas, and Angel, looks toward Nymuae as well, and slowly back to Lord Eoin. For a moment, it seems as if his armor is only a grey woolen sweater, his silvery cap made of cloth, and then he makes his decision. "I have to stand by my friends... Right or wrong," he says quietly. "Otherwise, who am I?"

Sir Lefallon looks to Lady Redmane, then grins a bit. "Besides, if it really is a trial of Body, maybe you'll have an easier time of it against me, huh?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Sir Lefallon," Redmane suggests. "I'd never outrun you without a horse."

The young knight grins back more. "I'll have to hope it isn't wrestling, you'd flatten me." His grin fades as he walks to stand by Lord Eoin's side.

"Size isn't all that makes one powerful, Sir Lefallon," Thomas nods in agreement with Lady Redmane. He then watches quietly as Sir Lefallon goes to stand by Lord Eoin.

Lord Eoin closes his eyes, exhaling. "Thank you, Sir Lefallon." He rises, and when he opens his eyes again, they glitter with malevolence once more. "Now, what was the second test? The Shrine of the ... Pegasus." He hesitates over the last word, an unfamiliar note in his voice. "And the Champion for that, the good Princess Angel." He looks at the little blond girl, and smiles at her. "I shall undertake that challenge myself, Sorcerer Pelles."

Sorcerer Pelles nods. "And the third, then?"

"Ah, yes. The Tome of the Hydra, undertaken by the brave Lord Explorer." The Destroyer turns his gaze at Tom. "Who would like to face me himself. Shall I oblige you, my lord?"

The princess gazes up to the Warlock for a moment after he announces he himself will accept the Shrine of the Pegasus before she offers him a curtsey. "I try my best to be a challenge, your lordship," Angel says.

"That is your decision," Thomas replies calmly. "Do you have someone else in mind to face me?"

"Oh, I think I do. I name as my Champion in the third trial: the Dragon, Monitor." A wind stirs through the hall, shaking the vines and moss growing on the granite blocks. The Warlock's voice rises, strident. "Wilt thou accept, my lord Dragon?"

A chill falls upon the chamber. Suddenly, Ainigton - and the back yard of Harcourt Manor - seems so much farther away.

Heavy footsteps shake the floor, first far away, then drawing closer.

Thomas simply smiles. "Still afraid to face me, then, Lord Eoin? Do I frighten you so much that you have to send in a creature more powerful than you against me?" Thomas inquires with a smirk.

Lord Eoin turns to the source of the footsteps, brushing his hair back from his face. "Don't you know yet, Lord Explorer? It is for the heroes to be brave and fierce. The villain's lot is to be a coward." He glances back over his shoulder to Tom, smiling. "Do I not play the part well, my lord?"

To Lady Nymuae Angel whispers, "Lady Penelope has never heard of Lord Monitor. Maybe if his dragonship is in a good mood after he'll challenge her ladyship and he can tell her all about himself."

A wedge-shaped head of dark metal stretches out of the shadow, followed by a sinuous neck tipped with spines. A stench of heated iron exhales from his nostrils, and then he strides forward into the chamber, regarding its occupants from a great height. "So it has come. Monitor comes face to face again with small adventurers and mighty lords, magicians of great power and their familiars. Who calls forth Monitor from his lair of warm gold and chill stone?"

"Indeed," Thomas replies with a grin. "But, at my age, there is no monster or man left that I still fear. It'll be fun."

Redmane silently grinds her teeth at the match-up, but forces a smile for the dragon. "Greetings, Lord Monitor," she says, bowing to the creature.

"Lord Eoin of January, old friend," the Warlock answers, with a bow. "These young ones think they can write better Rules than I or my siblings. I name you to champion my cause, my lord dragon. It is your part to accept or decline."

Thomas nods to the dragon. "Welcome, Lord Dragon Monitor. We seem to have a knack for running into each other, don't we?" Thomas says. "Lord Eoin wishes to pit you against me."

Once the princess notices Agatha's bow she quickly falls in line and curtsies to the dragon herself. "Hello once again Lord Monitor, though I do not know if you recognize me. We found who controlled the Jruuh that were in your home! It's Lord Eoin of January," she greets him.

The great dragon turns its head toward Redmane, eyes brightening literally, for the yellow glow beneath his lids intensifies. "A brave lady whom Monitor remembers well, and her companions who have distinguished themselves by deeds... Or by promises not yet fulfilled," he says, an ironic glance toward Thomas.

The dragon turns toward Lord Eoin next. "Monitor recalls no promises of service, no duties that it owes the first Lord of January," it rumbles, voice deep as the deepest shaft of Icejaw Pit. "What price might it be offered for such a request?"

"But not forgotten. The way by which we had to leave would not permit us to see you again, Lord Monitor. I intended to return once the matters at hand had been dealt with. I believe I have the item you desired," Thomas replies.

"A chance to collect on a bargain unfulfilled, Lord Dragon. Forgiveness of the failure of my trusted guardian to watch my back door," Lord Eoin says, mildly. "The ability to return to that heap of cold metal and jewels you value so, Monitor. Any number of things you value, I should think. If you do this one small thing for me, I am sure you will not regret it. If you do not ...." He shrugs.

"If we win Lord Eoin shouldn't bully you anymore Lord Monitor," inserts the princess.

Monitor's eyes narrow to burning slits. "Should a mighty Lord fall, a small negligence of duty might go amiss, amidst so many changes," it responds. "Yet should Monitor aid that Lord, he might not fall." His eyes turn toward the others and the dragon's pose takes on an almost insolent aspect. "Monitor strikes no deal from which he does not walk away greater."

"Lord Eoin may threaten, but he cannot harm you," Thomas says with a shrug. "He is many things, but he is still fey. Do you feel you can trust him? As for reclaiming onyour bargain, I can offer you the item you sought, right now, if you wish. You need not agree to do his bidding to get it. I said I would give it to you, and I intend to keep that agreement." He withdraws the silver pen that was stolen from the wraith's desk from his pouch.

Thomas smiles and adds, "And, if you so choose, you are welcome to stay and watch the challenges. You may find it interesting as well as educational about those who still live in Mirari. In fact, you could still play a part, if you wished, by granting us the boon to write the changed rule with your pen, should we win."

The Warlock glances to Tom, and his expression, if anything, turns colder. "Thief. You call yourself a hero, and you stand there, brandishing my property so that you may bribe my champion into denying me. But I am the villain, am I? I the coward. Indeed."

"In the right hands, the pen is mightier than the sword," observes Monitor with a sly smile. "Alas, that Monitor's claws might fail to grip a pen so nimbly as that of others." He turns his gaze back toward Lord Eoin.

"You stole the life of my best friend and enslaved it. You tortured his soul for Years, and you question my morals, Lord Eoin? I would say a mere pen is no were near the value of a life, or should I say, lives, of those you have taken," Thomas answers simply.

Watching the dragon closely, Redmane winces as Eoin andThomas start sniping at each other. She clears her throat, and comments, "Please, Lords, let us not waste the esteemed Lord Dragon's valuable time with petty bickering."

"Enjoy the view from your moral high ground, Lord Explorer," Lord Eoin grinds out. "Watch out for that fall: it's a doozy." He throws back his cloak and advances on Monitor, saying something in a harsh, growling tongue that sounds too large, too loud for his human-sized frame.

Angel watches Thomas for a moment and then adds to his offer, suggesting, "I'm sure the kingdom would be willing to help out too. Lord Eoin, though mighty and rich, is not so in- ... influencial as the court. And if Lord Eoin were to succeed in his desire without the Rule changing he will destroy all Mirari."

The great dragon looks taken aback, almost recoiling from Lord Eoin's words, and then narrows his eyes toward the others. He strides once around them all in a circle, spines rising and sinking along his back as he moves.

"Anger and threats, Lord Eoin? Careful, you're showing your true intentions," Thomas says calmly.

Sorcerer Pelles looks between Lord Eoin and the dragon, an inquisitive quirk to his brow.

Lord Eoin watches the dragon through his own slit eyes, his features contorted with rising fury. He says something else in the strange, unfamiliar language.

"Thomas, please don't make either the Warlock or the Dragon angrier, alright?" Redmane whispers, while gripping the pommel of her sheathed sword tightly.

The princess watches the dragon pace around them for a while before she turns to Lady Nymuae and asks her, "Do you speak that language your ladyship? Is it dragonish?"

At last he stops behind Lord Eoin. "Great merit have both sides, and yet only one can promise great loss," Monitor decides reluctantly, eyes dimming. "Its balance shall weigh toward the evil it knows. The Tome of the Hydra shall find Monitor as the Lord's champion."

Thomas shrugs to Lady Redmane and watches the situation with an odd calmness. "As you choose," Thomas replies with a bow. "I hope I prove to be an educational adversary."

"Very well then," Sorcerer Pelles says, "I believe that settles the matter. All Champions have been chosen. The time for testing is at hand." He stands a little straighter, closing his eyes, and muttering under his breath. The mists begin to stir about his feet.

The Warlock closes his eyes again, and a calmness descends over him, eradicating every sign of anger. "Thank you, my lord dragon." He reopens his eyes and glances to Sir Lefallon, offering the knight a smile. "It must be nice indeed to be the hero, and to have champions flock to one's banner."

Monitor's eyes flicker as it regards Thomas. "A game of cat and mouse never fails to teach," it hisses. "But is it cat that is educated, or is it mouse?"

Thomas smiles in return, "I always find things educational. Life is meant to be experienced, not hidden from. And who's to say which of us is the mouse, eh?"

The details of the chamber grow hazy, as the mists rise and close in. The lights of the torches succumb to the shadows.

"Good luck everyone!" offers the princess as the darkness closes in.

Previous Log: Phone Calls	Next Log: Shrine of the Pegasus: Angel's Story

Thread Links
	Previous Log: Phone Calls Next Log: Cupbearer of the Titans: Redmane's Race		Previous Log: Phone Calls Next Log: Shrine of the Pegasus: Angel's Story
	Previous Log: Phone Calls Next Log: Shrine of the Pegasus: Angel's Story		Previous Log: Phone Calls Next Log: A Time for Change
	Previous Log: Working out the Details Next Log: Cupbearer of the Titans: Sir Lefallon's Run		Previous Log: Working out the Details Next Log: Tome of the Hydra: Thomas's Test

---

This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.