'Deliverance for you for sure
There is nothing you can do
-Metallica "The Four Horsemen"

Al'Rachid Manor. City Amber.

Desmond walks through the large open archway into the the Radiant East Wing.
Desmond has arrived.

You are shown in by a grim faced, burly guard. Jibril sits in an office with a large bay window. The curtains are drawn from the night sky. The room is swathed in shadow that seems to extend more than normal. Jibril is staring at a card on his table, he is unshaven and there odd stench of liquor and ashes in the room. He looks up when Desmond arrives and there is an uncanny thing present there. It is like looking at Brand in one of his moods. Deep Jade in darkness. Jibril says, "Desmond, Come in." flatly.

Desmond enters the room with a determined gate. He frowns a bit as the atmosphere sinks in. "Greetings Uncle. What the hell is wrong?" His hand finds the pommel of his sword.

Jibril gives his nephew a faintly creepy smile as the candle light flickers nearby. "What is wrong is that we are all broken, Desmond. We are all scattered." When he lifts his hand, his shadowy fingers find his goblet to lift to his lips. "They are dead, Desmond. They are all dead."

Desmond frowns, "Of course we are all broken Uncle. This entire family is fucked up except for you. By Oberon's Brass Balls, what is wrong with you? I have never smelled stale whiskey in your presence before."

Jibril says softly, "I woke and cast the cards. I drew the card of Death wherein my father, your grandfather was. Surely you know the saying: 'And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.'. So saw I the face of Death in my father and truth to it's vision, so it came." His voice is soft and bares a simmering anger but not to Desmond, not to his nephew. "This day I received a scroll, it came to me from Alhambra. Today I have learned that the shadows have taken P'athna. The Black Road has scourged my people and devoured them in a single day and night."

Desmond looks a bit confused and shocked for a moment. Under his breath he says, "Damn it!" He recovers and begins to move closer to Jibril, concern is etched on his face. "All right, we can deal with that in a bit. What can I do for you now? You don't look well, Jibril."

"I indulge only this once, my nephew. I will rise again when dawn crosses my path." Jibril reassures his nephew as he can in his current state. "I saw him, you know. On a Pale horse, with my father's face. I saw Death, and do you know what can only come from this? Strength, Desmond." The shadowy fingers tremble slightly and he flings his goblet into the fire. "I will not be the heartless wretch. Today it took heart from me, but know this. There will be a reckoning. I need to have my father found. He must be freed from this this scattered state."

Desmond nods, "All right, Brand can take care of himself Uncle. He always has been able to. I am more worried about you at the moment. I'm usually the heavy drinker amongst us." He tries to lay a hand of comfort on the man. He sighs a bit, "So it's come to analogies of death and apocolypse? He just had to mess around on such a basic level....."

Jibril is quite cold to the touch, strange as he is normally full of life and spirit. "One takes comfort where one might to keep sane, my nephew. My honored father spoke of rising from the ashes, of coming back to us changed. He will not be as he once was and I believe, based on my conversation with Death in his visage that only change will fix what's broken however it might come about."

Desmond frowns deeply, "All right, what's this change you speak of? Would you like a blanket or something Uncle? You are as cold as the Death you speak of." His voice is level and a bit curious. There is no fear in it.

Jibril shakes his head, "No, tonight I take comfort in the shadows. I thank you for your concern of my humble self. My nephew. You are a good man. I spoke naught of change, your grandfather did. He was certain of it. He shall not come back to us as he was."

Desmond crouches next to his Uncle. He studies the man a moment. "As long as he comes back, I have full confidence in Brand. This will work out, for the better hopefully. Now about you...can I fetch you something to drink at least?"

Jibril takes a long moment to study Desmond, expression tight until he finally nods. "That would be well received. Thank you." he nods slowly. "I would prefer no more alcohol, more dulling of the brain would not be wise."

-end.