Silver Insanity

The great hall of Amber has shrunk slightly. (Seriously... It's about 15 feet shorter than two nights before.) Three fireplaces keep it warm, and the openings to the balcony don't let in the chill morning air.

Dworkin sits at the center of a single table set for brunch. He looks around, not seeing anyone else. "Oh dear. Did I forget to state the location out loud again?"

"I think so."

He shakes his head and gestures for a few servants to come over. "Could you see to it that the others are invited?" There is a pause. Dworkin adds, "The other Amberites..."

Probably moments after he sends a runner Dworkin gets a trump call through Solten's trump deck. "This is Sadie I understand there's supposed to be a get together to discuss last night's events and their ramifications. I am, however, lacking a time and location and am at this point unsure whether either was made clear."

(OOC: Dworkin, unsurprisingly, has trump, and thus Trump ID. He accepts calls from anyone he is familiar with.)

"I just sent out messengers with that information, it is in the castle, where we first met." He will smile, and reach for Sadie's card... then realize she doesn't have a set yet... "Are you borrowing Solten's cards? I can pull you through if you're together."

"Um... I still have things to attend to first. Who has arrived, have all expected parties arrived yet?" Clearly caught off guard by not considering such a possibility for some reason, she is being honest but clearly is stalling for some reason. The honesty quirk can be a bitch. "If you'd like company, however, you could pull Solten through... I'm done with him for now."

"Is something wrong?" Dworkin will think, "I know your new position can be overwhelming. At the moment, I seem to have forgotten to invite people, so it's quiet here. Did you have questions?"

In case you're wondering, Dworkin's psychic impression is a doddering old fool by default. It shifts subtly when he talks which implies that his sense of self is highly mutable. Kind of unnerving if you're used to talking to anyone else, who's psychic impression is normally stable.

"Nothing's the matter, just with position comes responsibility, and with things coming to light, like potential war, things become necessary. You'll see when I get there. So would you like a Solten or not? I've grown kind of attached to him, so if you know anything about dogs, is not an offer made lightly. I might think I'll never see him again if away from him for more than a minute you know." *there's the psychic impression of a joking wink.*

"Just head over when you can."

"Alright will do."

Alys arrives from Ht'gon, Tinder at her heels. She pauses for a moment, to see if Dworkin gestures her to any particular seat; if not, she'll pick one nearer to a corner of the table - trying to maximize her view of entrances, and minimize the obstacles in the way should she need to take action.

"Dworkin," Alys nods politely in greeting. "I came as soon as I got your message." She gestures with the paper in question, before tucking it into her belt next to a familiar-looking silk bag.* The unspoken question - of why Dworkin used a paper message instead of trump calls - is probably clear to Dworkin... but, being Dworkin, he may just ignore it entirely.

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* Any particularly intrepid cutpurses who managed to get ahold of the bag would find that it contains ordinary playing cards instead of a trump deck. Where on her is her actual trump deck? I, not having warfare above human rank, have no idea.

Dworkin stands to greet Alys... mostly because there's currently no one else there. "We seem to be missing the others. I'm sure they'll find their way in. How has your morning been?"