Wolfric am I, son of Osric and Lady Jasmine. My parents married for political reasons, rather than love, and I have suffered the consequences. To the best of my knowledge, Osric fled Amber many years ago and sought asylum in Chaos, seeking out his friend, Claythorn. It was he who introduced my father to his sister, Lady Jasmine, and arranged the marriage not long after. Though my parentage is mixed, my blood (and personality) would seem to be more of an Amberite than of anything else, and yet I have inherited much from my mother's side.
Neither parent cared greatly for me. In fact, when I was approaching adulthood, Jasmine made it very obvious that she disliked my 'Amber ways' and seldom spoke to me. Father was never one to show much emotion to anyone, least of all his apparently unwanted son. But there were times when he would mellow and tell me of Amber in the early years. These tales came rarely, and I cherished them, though looking back now I can't help but think that he spoke with a certain amount of sarcasm.
My only friend in Chaos would have to of been my uncle, Claythorn. I can only think he took pity on me, the unloved son of an arranged marriage. Maybe it was guilt? Who knows. Strangely enough, whenever I would get in trouble (and it would be often, believe me!), it was Osric who would defend me, not Claythorn. He would also severely chastise me. My uncle did care for me, I know that, but he wouldn't stick his neck out either.
When Osric disappeared, I was still young and naive. No-one would tell me why he had left. Claythorn became more secretive and evasive, and Mother would rarely acknowledge my existence, let alone explain her husband's sudden absence. I felt very alone and afraid. The courts of Chaos had become a frightening place for me. Thinking it better to live a life alone, than not to live at all, I fled the courts.
During my first few years of aimless wondering, I stumbled across a shadow of mid to late nineteenth century Earth, I believe. Whilst still in weir form, I happened across a midnight festival that a small village was having (something about celebrating a new season) where the locals attacked me and tried to drive me away. I realized that my weir-self could be considered quite frightening to the uninitiated, so I transformed into my more human appearance. This just seemed to make the locals go even wilder than before, attacking me with increased vigour. Not only that, but they had started to surround me, no longer content on driving me off, but determined to destroy me altogether! It felt worse than Chaos! To defend myself, I assumed a more ferocious and threatening shape, killing three or four of the larger males who had rushed in with swords and pitchforks. But when a group of uniformed men entered the circle of humans, carrying long wooden and steel contraptions, I felt the pricklings of a true panic coming on. When these devices spoke, spitting out smoke, fire and noxious fumes, I felt several sharp pains in my chest. One of my hearts was pierced as well as a lung and a number of ribs cracked. This I felt just before the anger took hold and I recall lashing out, no longer holding back. I had slain over a dozen people before I lost conscious thought. How many died after that I will never know.
I can only speculate as to what happened immediately after that encounter. In my weir form, I must have eventually fled that shadow, possibly even hellriding for sometime, for I eventually awoke in a world of great beauty. A snow encrusted forest world, where no humans had ever trod, and the wolf is atop the food chain. This was quite obvious, as I was surrounded by about twelve wolves of various colours and sizes, all looking at me and apparently talking to each other about me. I did not feel immediately threatened, even though the wolves were unusually large, but I wasn't sure how they'd react if I reverted to my human form, as I had just realized that I was shaped as a wolf, not too dissimilar to themselves.
It was not long before a beautiful she-wolf came forward, causing the rest of the pack to fall into silence. She had to be the leader. Her voice was strong and elegant, her eyes bright, intelligent and... amused? I got the impression she was treating me as a child, her words simple and delicately pronounced. She made me feel relaxed and at ease. When she realized that I didn't understand her, the she-wolf proceeded to teach me.
Many hours we spent together, over the next few days, in our teacher/student roles. I'm sure I impressed her with the speed in which I learnt her language, as she even started teaching me several different dialects. I also learnt much of their culture; these wolves known simply as 'The People'. An ancient race with its own rules and customs... and politics. My teacher, the leader or 'Pack Mistress' of this part of their world, was named Cheyenne (that's the closest I can come to it in Thari). We became great friends and naturally she wanted to know of my background and, yes, my family. (If only my family were as civilized as the People!) I really didn't want to tell her of myself and my lineage, but I felt obliged to do so.
She sat transfixed as I gave her a brief rundown of Amber and Chaos; a long story in even it's shortest form. Her eyes never left me and she only seldom interrupted to ask relevant and quite probing questions. When at last I finished, I could tell Cheyenne was totally fascinated by the tale. She implored me to transform into my human form, I think so as to give her some visual proof of my origins and story. This I did.
Cheyenne then sat before me, her nose high in the air, breathing in my scent so as to confirm my identity. Several other of the People came forward then, I know not from where, as I thought we were alone. They all took in my scent, not afraid or frightened, but merely intrigued with this oddly shaped creature who stood erect before them. I feel they now considered me more than just a stranger amongst them. I don't think they thought of me as a god, but something between themselves and a divine being. I'm really not sure, and I don't really want to know. Even though I had only been with them a short while, I considered the People to be friends; I never wanted anything more than that.
For many years did I live with the People, learning their ways; their history; their love of life. I also spent time experimenting with my shape shifting abilities, trying out many and varied forms that I found to mimic on this shadow. Cheyenne and her People were of great help in this, as they were very much in tune with nature and how the various creatures performed and reacted.
It was never like this in Chaos, but I began to wonder if Amber had any of this shadow's qualities. I felt an overwhelming urge to visit my father's origin's for the first time, even though it meant leaving this virtual paradise. Yes, it was time to go.
When I told Cheyenne of my decision to leave, I sensed much sadness in her, but she only said farewell and turned away with far too much dignity. On inspiration, I asked her to join me on my pilgrimage, giving her the chance to see the worlds I had tantalised her about in my stories. With a total lack of grace, she span around and leaped on me like a little cub, howling and liking me in a frenzy. I think she meant 'yes'.
We spent quite some time getting to Amber; neither of us was in a hurry and we both enjoyed the trip for the trip's sake. We even diverted from our chosen path on several occasions to explore some different and unusual shadows, allowing me to build up my shifting skills even more. But eventually we did arrive, unsure of what to do first. Cheyenne counselled me to disguise myself, as the stories I'd shared with her about my father's mysterious departure from Amber somehow disturbed her. She sensibly thought that his son might not be all that welcome if he'd left under strain or coercion. As I had never met another Amberite, other than my father, I chose to simply take my human form but with a thick beard and iron grey hair.
We managed to enter the great Castle Amber by losing ourselves amongst a visiting circus; apparently the entertainment for an up coming celebration. It was indeed a wondrous experience, casually exploring the castle, even though we were restricted to where the circus was allowed. I even spotted several of my uncles and aunts, going about their business and happily unaware that their nephew watched them. I recognised them from my father's trumps, although I'd just been shown them two or three times many year ago. They looked remarkably like their images and it was difficult not to stare. Cheyenne had to nip my hand on occasion to wake me from my trance, but I was sure they hadn't noticed. Or so I thought.
From behind me a man approached. Quietly, but not quietly enough. Cheyenne had already spun about and I was in the process of lengthening my nails to claws before he reached me. He was an old man and looked to have no intention of fighting. I withdrew my claws and patted Cheyenne, telling her to relax. She sat down beside me and took on the guise of an ordinary, dumb, if somewhat large, tame wolf. The elderly gent introduced himself as Pierre, a court magician and former retainer of my father, Osric. He beckoned me to enter his chambers, softly calling me by may name, Wolfric. I felt I should trust this man, or at least go along with him to find out his true intentions. I had little choice: I wanted to know what had happened to my father.
Pierre led us to a door not far from where he'd found us. When I entered with Cheyenne, he gave her a quizzical and slightly worried look, but said nothing. The three of us filled his small living room but as it turned out we were not to stay for long. He quickly told me that it was very dangerous for me in Amber at this time and that I had best leave at once. I got the impression he was taking a great risk in even talking to me, so I only asked one question of him: why had my father left Amber and vowed never to return? He replied that he had not freely left, but had been banished by Oberon and recent events, that he couldn't explain quickly, had made it even more dangerous for anyone associated with him. This he told me as he hurriedly searched a cluttered shelf, his movements remarkably agile for one so old. Pushing aside some dusty books, he withdrew a threadbare scarf of dubious quality, it's ends fraying. Pierre pushed it into my hands, saying go, go! As I was about to protest, the scarf gently wrapped itself around me and seemed to communicate a sense of imminent danger, at the same time transforming itself into a long necklace that seemed to match my disguise as a circus performer. When I queried Pierre, he informed me that the item was known as 'Trinket', and it had been a friend of Osric's and that it would come in handy. Not fully understanding this, but feeling the pressure upon me, I left, Cheyenne leading the way.
Knowing that if Pierre had recognized and/or detected me, it was quite possible that others could do the same, so we immediately left Amber, fortunately without incident. I was still a little taken aback at the news that Osric had been banished and I now felt a more urgent need to uncover the entire truth. So if Amber was too dangerous at the moment, the next logical choice was to travel back to the courts of Chaos. There I might learn of my father's current whereabouts. Maybe not the wisest of courses, as it was quite probable that I was even more unwanted there, too. I could simply go back with Cheyenne to her People and live a quiet and contented life, never having to get involved. But I felt my Amber blood calling. I couldn't let it rest.
Taking the next to shortest route back to Chaos, bordering on hellriding, I led Cheyenne to the place I had fled so many years ago. She seldom voiced any concerns, but I often noticed her looking worriedly at me when we'd stop and rest. I felt a little guilty for taking her along, but apart from the fact that she'd insisted on coming anyway, I desperately needed her company. I had so few friends and I'd never met any of my Amber family (even the ones that I'd heard had visited my father, apparently against Oberon's wishes) that I needed someone.
It wasn't long before I was face to face with my uncle Claythorn once more. We embraced and he insisted I tell him of my journeys. I gave him a brief account of the last ten years or so, but skipped detailing Cheyenne's world, as she'd remained mute in his presence and obviously wanted to remain my 'pet' in the company of strangers. When I'd finished, it was my turn to ask Claythorn the same question he'd avoided answering years before: what happened to my father? His reply was regrettably simple: he didn't know. Apparently he had refrained from telling me even this because he was afraid I wouldn't believe him. I wonder if he thought I believed him now? When I asked why Osric had fled to Chaos in the first place, he could only tell me that Osric wouldn't tell anyone, that he had shown shame and humiliation, so Claythorn had not insisted. My uncle never liked upsetting anyone. So I was no better off. Even though Claythorn had promised to dig deeper to get me some facts, I felt the answer most likely didn't lie in Chaos. I would have to find another way. Maybe back to Amber? Try and find a sympathetic relative there? I wasn't at all sure. Pierre could possibly help me, if only I could find a way to spend some safe time with him. Someone must know, or care. There had to others out there who would help me, if only indirectly. There must.
Neither parent cared greatly for me. In fact, when I was approaching adulthood, Jasmine made it very obvious that she disliked my 'Amber ways' and seldom spoke to me. Father was never one to show much emotion to anyone, least of all his apparently unwanted son. But there were times when he would mellow and tell me of Amber in the early years. These tales came rarely, and I cherished them, though looking back now I can't help but think that he spoke with a certain amount of sarcasm.
My only friend in Chaos would have to of been my uncle, Claythorn. I can only think he took pity on me, the unloved son of an arranged marriage. Maybe it was guilt? Who knows. Strangely enough, whenever I would get in trouble (and it would be often, believe me!), it was Osric who would defend me, not Claythorn. He would also severely chastise me. My uncle did care for me, I know that, but he wouldn't stick his neck out either.
When Osric disappeared, I was still young and naive. No-one would tell me why he had left. Claythorn became more secretive and evasive, and Mother would rarely acknowledge my existence, let alone explain her husband's sudden absence. I felt very alone and afraid. The courts of Chaos had become a frightening place for me. Thinking it better to live a life alone, than not to live at all, I fled the courts.
During my first few years of aimless wondering, I stumbled across a shadow of mid to late nineteenth century Earth, I believe. Whilst still in weir form, I happened across a midnight festival that a small village was having (something about celebrating a new season) where the locals attacked me and tried to drive me away. I realized that my weir-self could be considered quite frightening to the uninitiated, so I transformed into my more human appearance. This just seemed to make the locals go even wilder than before, attacking me with increased vigour. Not only that, but they had started to surround me, no longer content on driving me off, but determined to destroy me altogether! It felt worse than Chaos! To defend myself, I assumed a more ferocious and threatening shape, killing three or four of the larger males who had rushed in with swords and pitchforks. But when a group of uniformed men entered the circle of humans, carrying long wooden and steel contraptions, I felt the pricklings of a true panic coming on. When these devices spoke, spitting out smoke, fire and noxious fumes, I felt several sharp pains in my chest. One of my hearts was pierced as well as a lung and a number of ribs cracked. This I felt just before the anger took hold and I recall lashing out, no longer holding back. I had slain over a dozen people before I lost conscious thought. How many died after that I will never know.
I can only speculate as to what happened immediately after that encounter. In my weir form, I must have eventually fled that shadow, possibly even hellriding for sometime, for I eventually awoke in a world of great beauty. A snow encrusted forest world, where no humans had ever trod, and the wolf is atop the food chain. This was quite obvious, as I was surrounded by about twelve wolves of various colours and sizes, all looking at me and apparently talking to each other about me. I did not feel immediately threatened, even though the wolves were unusually large, but I wasn't sure how they'd react if I reverted to my human form, as I had just realized that I was shaped as a wolf, not too dissimilar to themselves.
It was not long before a beautiful she-wolf came forward, causing the rest of the pack to fall into silence. She had to be the leader. Her voice was strong and elegant, her eyes bright, intelligent and... amused? I got the impression she was treating me as a child, her words simple and delicately pronounced. She made me feel relaxed and at ease. When she realized that I didn't understand her, the she-wolf proceeded to teach me.
Many hours we spent together, over the next few days, in our teacher/student roles. I'm sure I impressed her with the speed in which I learnt her language, as she even started teaching me several different dialects. I also learnt much of their culture; these wolves known simply as 'The People'. An ancient race with its own rules and customs... and politics. My teacher, the leader or 'Pack Mistress' of this part of their world, was named Cheyenne (that's the closest I can come to it in Thari). We became great friends and naturally she wanted to know of my background and, yes, my family. (If only my family were as civilized as the People!) I really didn't want to tell her of myself and my lineage, but I felt obliged to do so.
She sat transfixed as I gave her a brief rundown of Amber and Chaos; a long story in even it's shortest form. Her eyes never left me and she only seldom interrupted to ask relevant and quite probing questions. When at last I finished, I could tell Cheyenne was totally fascinated by the tale. She implored me to transform into my human form, I think so as to give her some visual proof of my origins and story. This I did.
Cheyenne then sat before me, her nose high in the air, breathing in my scent so as to confirm my identity. Several other of the People came forward then, I know not from where, as I thought we were alone. They all took in my scent, not afraid or frightened, but merely intrigued with this oddly shaped creature who stood erect before them. I feel they now considered me more than just a stranger amongst them. I don't think they thought of me as a god, but something between themselves and a divine being. I'm really not sure, and I don't really want to know. Even though I had only been with them a short while, I considered the People to be friends; I never wanted anything more than that.
For many years did I live with the People, learning their ways; their history; their love of life. I also spent time experimenting with my shape shifting abilities, trying out many and varied forms that I found to mimic on this shadow. Cheyenne and her People were of great help in this, as they were very much in tune with nature and how the various creatures performed and reacted.
It was never like this in Chaos, but I began to wonder if Amber had any of this shadow's qualities. I felt an overwhelming urge to visit my father's origin's for the first time, even though it meant leaving this virtual paradise. Yes, it was time to go.
When I told Cheyenne of my decision to leave, I sensed much sadness in her, but she only said farewell and turned away with far too much dignity. On inspiration, I asked her to join me on my pilgrimage, giving her the chance to see the worlds I had tantalised her about in my stories. With a total lack of grace, she span around and leaped on me like a little cub, howling and liking me in a frenzy. I think she meant 'yes'.
We spent quite some time getting to Amber; neither of us was in a hurry and we both enjoyed the trip for the trip's sake. We even diverted from our chosen path on several occasions to explore some different and unusual shadows, allowing me to build up my shifting skills even more. But eventually we did arrive, unsure of what to do first. Cheyenne counselled me to disguise myself, as the stories I'd shared with her about my father's mysterious departure from Amber somehow disturbed her. She sensibly thought that his son might not be all that welcome if he'd left under strain or coercion. As I had never met another Amberite, other than my father, I chose to simply take my human form but with a thick beard and iron grey hair.
We managed to enter the great Castle Amber by losing ourselves amongst a visiting circus; apparently the entertainment for an up coming celebration. It was indeed a wondrous experience, casually exploring the castle, even though we were restricted to where the circus was allowed. I even spotted several of my uncles and aunts, going about their business and happily unaware that their nephew watched them. I recognised them from my father's trumps, although I'd just been shown them two or three times many year ago. They looked remarkably like their images and it was difficult not to stare. Cheyenne had to nip my hand on occasion to wake me from my trance, but I was sure they hadn't noticed. Or so I thought.
From behind me a man approached. Quietly, but not quietly enough. Cheyenne had already spun about and I was in the process of lengthening my nails to claws before he reached me. He was an old man and looked to have no intention of fighting. I withdrew my claws and patted Cheyenne, telling her to relax. She sat down beside me and took on the guise of an ordinary, dumb, if somewhat large, tame wolf. The elderly gent introduced himself as Pierre, a court magician and former retainer of my father, Osric. He beckoned me to enter his chambers, softly calling me by may name, Wolfric. I felt I should trust this man, or at least go along with him to find out his true intentions. I had little choice: I wanted to know what had happened to my father.
Pierre led us to a door not far from where he'd found us. When I entered with Cheyenne, he gave her a quizzical and slightly worried look, but said nothing. The three of us filled his small living room but as it turned out we were not to stay for long. He quickly told me that it was very dangerous for me in Amber at this time and that I had best leave at once. I got the impression he was taking a great risk in even talking to me, so I only asked one question of him: why had my father left Amber and vowed never to return? He replied that he had not freely left, but had been banished by Oberon and recent events, that he couldn't explain quickly, had made it even more dangerous for anyone associated with him. This he told me as he hurriedly searched a cluttered shelf, his movements remarkably agile for one so old. Pushing aside some dusty books, he withdrew a threadbare scarf of dubious quality, it's ends fraying. Pierre pushed it into my hands, saying go, go! As I was about to protest, the scarf gently wrapped itself around me and seemed to communicate a sense of imminent danger, at the same time transforming itself into a long necklace that seemed to match my disguise as a circus performer. When I queried Pierre, he informed me that the item was known as 'Trinket', and it had been a friend of Osric's and that it would come in handy. Not fully understanding this, but feeling the pressure upon me, I left, Cheyenne leading the way.
Knowing that if Pierre had recognized and/or detected me, it was quite possible that others could do the same, so we immediately left Amber, fortunately without incident. I was still a little taken aback at the news that Osric had been banished and I now felt a more urgent need to uncover the entire truth. So if Amber was too dangerous at the moment, the next logical choice was to travel back to the courts of Chaos. There I might learn of my father's current whereabouts. Maybe not the wisest of courses, as it was quite probable that I was even more unwanted there, too. I could simply go back with Cheyenne to her People and live a quiet and contented life, never having to get involved. But I felt my Amber blood calling. I couldn't let it rest.
Taking the next to shortest route back to Chaos, bordering on hellriding, I led Cheyenne to the place I had fled so many years ago. She seldom voiced any concerns, but I often noticed her looking worriedly at me when we'd stop and rest. I felt a little guilty for taking her along, but apart from the fact that she'd insisted on coming anyway, I desperately needed her company. I had so few friends and I'd never met any of my Amber family (even the ones that I'd heard had visited my father, apparently against Oberon's wishes) that I needed someone.
It wasn't long before I was face to face with my uncle Claythorn once more. We embraced and he insisted I tell him of my journeys. I gave him a brief account of the last ten years or so, but skipped detailing Cheyenne's world, as she'd remained mute in his presence and obviously wanted to remain my 'pet' in the company of strangers. When I'd finished, it was my turn to ask Claythorn the same question he'd avoided answering years before: what happened to my father? His reply was regrettably simple: he didn't know. Apparently he had refrained from telling me even this because he was afraid I wouldn't believe him. I wonder if he thought I believed him now? When I asked why Osric had fled to Chaos in the first place, he could only tell me that Osric wouldn't tell anyone, that he had shown shame and humiliation, so Claythorn had not insisted. My uncle never liked upsetting anyone. So I was no better off. Even though Claythorn had promised to dig deeper to get me some facts, I felt the answer most likely didn't lie in Chaos. I would have to find another way. Maybe back to Amber? Try and find a sympathetic relative there? I wasn't at all sure. Pierre could possibly help me, if only I could find a way to spend some safe time with him. Someone must know, or care. There had to others out there who would help me, if only indirectly. There must.