Some of the descriptions of Trumps from the Trump deck of the Bard of Amber

Note the more comedic ones of Brandeigh's Trumps are very secret and never leave a super-secure vault in her home shadow.

Lorius, Clown Prince of Amber.
The background: Our subject is near to the Faiella-bionin, the stairway to Rebma. Lorius stands near one of the stone cairn markers, his back to the sea. It's a partly cloudly but still extremely sunny and warm looking day. The sea splashes merrily in a wave upon the strand not to far from our 'hero' and though the seven waves immediately following the one now on the beach don't look likely to soak our 'hero', that ninth wave is a great deal bigger and heavier.

And if it doesn't, the all female and scantily clad contingent of Rebman guards looks like they will.

Lorius, for this is a Trump of him you'll recall, stands legs shoulder width apart dressed in a lime green and yellow checkered clown suit with a glaringly red sash wrapped too tightly around his waist.

A purple and white cap with long bell-tassled tails all but obscures his fiery red hair. His whiteface painted expression is one of intense concentration, and a brilliant red tongue hangs out of his mouth as he struggles mightily to juggle three colored balls (red, blue and green) and a large crystal fishbowl. A large goldfish (somehow appearing wiser, if somewhat more nervous than Lorius) swims 'round inside the bowl, a look of alarm on it's face as the fishbowl nears the lower end of it's impromptu orbit.

Will Lorius catch it? Will the waves or the guards catch Lorius? And what exactly does the fish think about all this? Activate the Trump and find out...

Mirror Magic or.... Mirror, mirror on the wall....
You're looking into one of the castle apartments for the royals. The room is tastefully decorated; a couch, table, chairs, etc. Or it would be if not for the collection of beauty aids scattered about.

From your vantage point, it looks as though your viewing the room and it's occupant from the mirror set above the vanity table. The table is cluttered with brushes, combs, curlers, nail polish, ribbons, barrets. A bottle of Klarol V.O. 10 hair dye sits to one side, showing signs of recent use.

The room's occupant is sitting at the vanity peering intently at her face (and incidentally your's).

She's Flora's daughter, Asteria, of course. Though you'd be forgiven for net recognizing her right off. Her hair is bound up in curlers and those spongy wraps used for hair coloring solutions. One eyelash is obviously longer than the other, being false. A matching one is the vanity before her. Her skin is splotchy and has a few pimples, but the vast supplies of makeup nearby should be able to cover all the little blemishes up. And the box of press on nails and dozen bottles or so of nail polish should cover the short, ragged nails of Asteria.

On the corner of the vanity, you can see a magazine opened to an article. If you squint your eyes just right, it appears to be something about breast implants and how to check for leaks.

In the background, a girdle rests near a green dress on the bed. And some sort of exercise machine stands in the corner.

The Game
A sylvan, rural scene. A beautiful home fashioned from trunk of one (possibly more, you can't really tell) a tree at the edge of a brightly lit lush clearing.

A wooden porch furnished sparsely but tastefully with tables and chairs excellently crafted of a golden colored wood, polished and buffed to high shine. A pair of large, beautiful hawks rest watchfully over the porch and clearing from a tall wooden perch.

Sitting at the table are a pair of figures. One, small and slight with curly blonde locks. Dressed in a blouse and skirt she is, but her feet are bare. A dark grey hound rests at her feet, looking up with what you would swear is a mixture of watchfullness and amusement. A smile of childlike delight is on the girl's face as she studies a board on the table in front of her.

The other figure, much taller though built slenderly as well sits across from the young girl. Standing, he would reach over six feet in height, and he appears to be a man of action as his frame is well muscled though not bulky. He is dressed simply, wearing a white cottony shirt trimmed in black that is loosely tucked into black pants. Black calvary boots decorated with silver clasps cover his feet.

The man's long dark hair frames a narrow, but handsome face. A face that is not normally known for it's smiles. A rare, wry one beams from it today and his icy blue eyes are twinkling with affection as he watches the girl.

In the background - the clearing, a honey colored hound, slightly smaller than the grey, merrily chases a flight of butterflies across the glen.

The board which the figures are studying is square and is layed out in a series of alternating red and black squares. There are a number of red and black colored round pieces on the board. The man has just released his grip on one of the black pieces to look in your direction. A move that will let the girl jump her piece from one of the board to the other and possibly win if she sees it. Will you step through and challenge the winner to a game?

King of the Mountain
It is dawn and a golden sun has just cleared the crest of a solitary mountain peak. The sun's golden rays backlight a lone figure of a man, arms crossed in front of him, standing on a mountain plateau.

The man is tall and athletically built with medium length, raven black hair framing a pale, handsome face from which startling blue eyes regard you. He is dressed in a white shirt and black, silver trimmed doublet open at the throat and chest, revealing a pale, well defined physique. A gray belt with a silver buckle bearing a single rose is fastened around sky blue pants that disappear into soft black boots. A blue cloak clasped with a silver brooch billows gently in the crisp, morning breeze.

There is an air of remoteness and sadness about the man, as if he as been through a great deal of pain and loss. But the astute will note that he is still standing, head up, shoulders unbent.

At his feet, a gold chased harp rests on top a silver handled mace.

Father
A tall, well built man stands before a turrented castle sitting on a spit of land that juts out into a large deep blue loch. On the far shore, mountains cold and misty rise into the distance. There are a pair of wispy white clouds floating overhead and a scoutship sails gracefully between them. A pair of russet colored wolfhounds of impressive size lie in the grass at his feet, looking up affectionately at him.

The man is upwards of seven feet tall, solid as rock yet lithely built. Long, flowing coppery hair is worn braided and kept out his emerald green eyes, keen with intelligence and wisdom, by a golden circlet. His tanned, clean shaven face is handsome and bears a mildly amused expression.

He is dressed in a plaid and kilt of six colors; black, red, blue, grey, white and yellow woven in an intricate checkerboard fashion. A gold and onyx pin depicting a rearing lion clasps the plaid at the man's left shoulder. Under the plaid, the man wears a bright white shirt that's decorated with bits of lace at the throat and cuffs. A black leather belt with a golden buckle is fastened around his narrow waist and a fur and gold decorated sporran (a sort of belt pouch) hangs down in front of the kilt.

Brown boots of highly polished, supple leather reach up to cover his feet and calves. He wears but one ring and it is of gold with a large emerald set in it and it is worn on his left ring finger.

The man rests his left hand on a large and finely crafted Claymore sword that comes to a level with his chest. His right hand is extended towards you, palm up in a sign of welcome.

The man is of course, Kerrigan Douglas, Prince of Scots, Master of Douglas, husband of Fiona Princess of Amber, and father of Brandeigh Princess and Bard.

Kerrigan's bound to have lots of interesting stories to tell of his wife, daughter and himself. Will you go through and listen to them?

Fiona - Mother and magister supreme.
Seated upon an elegant, tall chair is a short but breath takingly beautiful woman. Long, flowing hair the color of flame frames a flawlessly complected face. Emerald green eyes sparkle with hidden knowledge and laughter as she gazes upon you. Sensuous lips curl up in a welcoming, nay - a knowing smile.

A tightly clinging, low cut gown of green acentuates a slender but shapely figure. A silver and gem studded pin sparkles from her hair and a silver and emerald necklace falls around an exquisite neck.

The chair and woman are in a study of some sort; bookshelves line the wall behind her; filled with tomes, manuals, magazines and periodicals of all descriptions. A small round table rests near the chair and centered on it is a clear crystal globe. Small figures, to indistinct to make out from this vantage move about within the crystal sphere. A small tabby cat is curled up in sleep by her feet.

One slender hand rests upon the arm of the chair, the other is extended towards you. Will you step through and consult with upon matters magical or mundane?

Bleys - uncle and exotic dancer?
This trump card depicts a stage of some sort or other; black plexiglass with tiny flecks of silver embedded in it, buffed to a high shine with a line of evenly spaced small, bright lights running along the front edge. The background is all dark to better draw one's attention to the figure or figures upon the stage. Bright lights shine in from beyond the edge of the card upon a single figure.

That figure is of a tall and very well built man crowned in flame colored hair with a matching Vandyke beard. A half-mask of black silk covers the upper portion of his face but his brilliant blue eyes shine through with laughter and more than a bit of the devil nonetheless. A fabulous, bedazzling smile revealing his perfect teeth shines out of that beard.

Clad only in a fire engine red thong and glistening sweat, Bleys stands facing you, feet shoulder width apart and his are upon his hips. Hips which seem to be doing some kind of pelvic thrusting motion. Clothing scattered about the stage reminds you of a Don Juan or a Zorro movie: black wide brimmed hat, a frilly, loose red silk shirt, black tear away pants and glossy black boots.

As you study the card, the sounds of wild music and throngs of wildly screaming and cheering women seems to come to you. Care to step through and either watch the rest of the show, or being brave and bold, join him upon the stage?


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