Khitan’s Diary part 11: An Unwelcome Guest at the Funeral

In The Doom that Came to Amber

27^th Bull 3658

The next morning I was privileged to have breakfast with the prophet; a great honour indeed. Unfortunately he did not say much. I did however notice that he had ham and dates for breakfast. I also had ham and dates for breakfast – a most agreeable combination.

Sitting on his own at breakfast, Alaric seemed like a broken man, probably contemplating the forthcoming funeral. I decided to let him grieve in peace; though with hindsight, I believe this could have been an error.

I offered to accompany Aylwin to Lyon Abbey. If he were to go on his own he would surely perish, and I would not have that on my conscience.

Whilst chewing on a date I realised that Nyarlathotep was a creation of Yog-Sothoth and that my spell research had not been in vain.

I briefly discussed the order of ceremonies with my old friend Lord Norlan and soon found myself with Asmark and others in Amethyst. The convenience of Trump coming to the fore again.

The massed wizards of Amethyst were in attendance but only immediate family representatives were allowed into the inner sanctum where Clarissa would tend the bruised souls of her family.

Before the proceedings really got underway, I talked to a few of the other ambassadors. A strange shaman from the Ophidian Archipelago had an interesting view, but before I could corner him I found myself near to Bathsheba. I took the opportunity to remind her to keep on her toes. As I did this a nobleman came up and I felt obliged by his shining charisma and friendly manners to introduce Bathsheba to him. “Princess Bathseba” I intoned. However as I did this I felt that this was insufficient warning and I coughed and corrected myself: “The Redoubtable Princess Bathsheba.”

Probably a waste of time as they seemed to already know each other.

The funeral was very grand and even more so when I concentrated on observing the magical ebb and flow of great channels of power controlling the weather and other pyrotechnics.

This was probably the greatest display of magical power that I had yet witnessed.

Some considerable quantity of this power seemed to be focussed on sealing Clarence’s tomb. Which made me consider that he was either not dead, or in a state where his remains could still exert influence.

The proceedings had passed smoothly for a good twenty minutes or so when I felt a horribly familiar feeling of impending doom. A moment later I sensed a renting of reality near the inner sanctum and I knew that Nyarlathotep was in the process of manifesting. GREAT HORROR!!!

Immediately I indicated to Bathsheba that we should leave. Unfortunately every other wizard had the same idea. I decided to cast my Flight spell but unfortunately it was too slow a spell. Bathsheba grabbed me and we started to move sideways through shadow – being followed by N--, no doubt creating further portals for N--. I was most pleased to find that my spellcasting abilities had improved to the point that I could maintain my spellcasting whilst being carried.

We came to a graveyard outside N--‘s immediate gaze. To my horror, creatures of the most malign intent and skeletal form began to burst forth from the putrescent ripe earth. I realised that I did not have time to finish my spell.

Uncertain of the threat posed by these creatures I decided to let Bathsheba handle them. I already knew she was a better fighter than I, alas! Unfortunately she has not quite mastered the art of fighting with friends in close proximity, or else she still regards me as a threat, as she dropped a tombstone on my leg, breaking my ankle.

Fortunately, it was a clean break and I managed to make a partial heal almost immediately. Bathsheba picked me up again and we moved on, arriving at a safer spot.

Bathsheba received a trump call from Aylwin who seemed desperate. He came through soaking wet with a broken doll over his shoulder. To my horror I realised the doll was in reality a corpse! Aylwin and Bathsheba seemed to believe the body was still alive and to my surprise I perceived that this was indeed the case.

I was shocked to recognise the broken form of Fiona, sorceress of the age!

I scanned her with my eye of magic and perceived an enchantment around her mind. I did not dare investigate it further lest it be Fiona’s mind guard which would surely be lethal.

Aylwin tried to trump Bleys but could not get through. I tried to help with sending coded pulses of Trump attempts but I suspect these were pointless as Bleys could probably work out that it was Aylwin seeking contact.

Fiona was at death’s door and I considered using my shapechanging abilities to heal her, but I realised that this would be a most difficult task and to fail would probably be lethal. Indeed I would probably not be allowed the attempt.

Eventually contact was made and Bathsheba went through to Bleys, carrying the surely brain-dead Fiona.

Realising that it would be necessary to return to this place at some time I cast my magical marker spell.

It became apparent that N—‘s influence was regrouping nearby (perhaps he had suffered some kind of temporary defeat) and that we needed to leave the shadow immediately.

An attempt was made by Aylwin to seal off N—‘s entrance, but I thought this would not be long-lasting.

We trumped through to Asmark in Amethyst intending to make for the nearest pub.

We were all in need of a strong drink – but we were not to get one as soon as we would have liked.