A bit of verbal

[Robin]

*The marketplace is empty.

By Robin's reckoning, it's nearing midnight. Since leaving the... Serena's... room, he has decided to take in some of the night air he got through the shutters. He likes the marketplace at night. Calm, quiet, peaceful... as much as he likes a bit of action, he does take solace in the lack thereof at some points. After a day in the company of Serena, who kept switching moods and topped it off with a kiss, he needs some time to collect his own thoughts. Upon leaving the Wolf's Howl, he found himself wandering, not directly through or out of the village, but towards the marketplace. A big, empty space where he has some time to be alone with his own thoughts for a while.

He sighs.

Robin had half-expected to walk into Trusty Seldam or one of the other street traders here. But that's not happening - the absence of stalls and their holders are proof that everything has shut up for the day. That's good. Robin didn't really want to be interrupted. Taking off his sword, crossbow and quiver, he lays them down gently on the ground, and begins stretching his muscles. He's already walked from Greenshades to Wolfenden today, via Warlock, in one go. It's about a mile-long trek back to the edge of the Forest, and he's anticipating having to pick his way through the trees back to his house. In the dark.

Streeeetch.

He exhales. Just for a few minutes, he'll settle here, and then begin his journey home. It is quiet. It is warm. It is peaceful.*

[Treguard]

Robin.

[ModNote: Continuing from Dunshelm Ascending.]

[Robin]

*Robin jumps about thirty feet in the air. While he can't say he's not brave (although his enemies may be the first to say that), among the things that make him a little jumpy, a disembodied voice may rank among the top ten.

Not that he doesn't know who this voice belongs to. He can't, of course, see the person from whom it originates, but that barely matters. Not to him. It hasn't mattered to him before; why should it again? Even if it's been... Merlin knows how long it's been.*

Uhm...

*Robin isn't quite sure where to stand, as there's no actual indication of where to face. He compromises by standing with his back to the direction from which he originated, as he may as well be continuing on his way if he's going to be talking.*

...where...

...where have you been?

[Treguard]

Where have I been? What sort of question is that? Impertinent young man! The important thing is... I'm here now.

*He didn't mean to snap. He was, after all, pleased to see Robin. He just had the misfortune to ask the one question Treguard had been hoping not to hear... not least of all because he doesn't think he can give a coherent answer himself. Flashes of daisies, cages, bogies and being a floating head all come to him, but he isn't sure what's real and what isn't. Sometimes he muses upon the idea of continuity, and how one interpretation of events may be different from another.

He isn't often known to be this thoughtful, but - as he now thinks to himself - I am thinking, so that proves them wrong.

Then he realises that he hasn't defined who "them" refers to. And that there isn't anyone to define it to. And that the person he is supposed to be talking to is standing in profile on his Magic Mirror, looking bored.*

Ahem. Yes. Anyway. I'm back now. Robin, you are doubtless aware of the fact that I haven't quite been keeping tabs on what's happened in the realms over the past few... well... however long it has been. You may even be aware that I don't even know much about what you've been up to...

*Robin looks both affronted and abashed.*

...so. Robin. I'm charg... asking. I'm asking you. I feel that there's something different. What has been happening here? You know, of course.

[Robin]

*Robin blinks. He's being asked for information. He doesn't often get that - he usually just gives it out without being asked. This is a relatively new sensation.*

Well, to tell you the truth, Treg... uard...

*He was about to say, "Treggie D." He stopped himself just in time, but allows a rueful smile to flit across his face as the thought of the Dungeon Master's reaction if he heard what they're calling him on the street.*

...I've very little idea myself. I mean, I know there's been a lot happening recently, but I've been AWOL. What with the brick, Holmgarth, underground caves, Goth, Marblehead, the school, the marketplace, Greenshades, Warlock, the path, the marketplace - again!, the inn...

*He breathes in.*

...I'm not making sense, am I?

*There's no audible response, but he can almost see Treguard shaking his head.*

I've not been here. I've hardly even been to my hut more than once in the past week or so. Whatever's happened, it's certainly levelled some buildings. I just wish I knew who could give you more information...

*And a face bursts clearly into his mind as he suddenly thinks of someone who dispenses information for a living.*

...Crabinfest!

Or something like that, anyway.

[Treguard]

*Treguard neither knows nor cares what "crabinfest" means. On account of the fact that Robin has just been seen exiting a tavern, coupled with his well-known affection for rather strong drink, there may be a reason why he's spouting nonsense. For a moment, some rhetoric about people he trusts turning to drink and becoming demented leaps through his memory, but he decides against using it. While Robin may be noble and well-intentioned, even the Dungeon Master may need to be wary about how short tempers may be after hours.*

Robin... wherever you're going...

*For Robin has already started to walk off, aware that Treguard can follow him wherever he goes - Treguard, for his part, is pleased that he's never chanced upon Robin doing anything untoward; there have been rumours in the past. Treguard hurriedly gesticulates towards the Magic Mirror, scrolling out a little to keep the Woodsman in view.*

...you're the only one I've talked to. Pl...

*The word is difficult to use, but he forces it out.*

...please...

*Robin stops in apparent surprise. This isn't exactly unforeseen.*

...whatever you know, tell me. I need to know. It's, after all, my dungeon.

*He may have had to ask for help this time, but he can't begrudge himself allowing a bit of power-seizure, even verbally. He is the Dungeon Master; he ought to know. Treguard nods to himself... and waits for an answer.*

[Robin]

*Robin blinks. He turns in a random direction, in case the Dungeon Master couldn't see him. He ends up facing directly away from the Magic Mirror and talks confidently with his back to Treguard.*

I told you, Master... I don't know. Yes, something's happened, but I've been busy with floating girls and demon infestations and servants and bats and other... things...

*He takes a breath in.*

...I would tell you more if I could. But I can't. You need to talk to Colinfrost. He's a librarian of sorts, but I've no idea where he is now. I suppose he lives around here, he's usually around, at various places in time...

*He's unaware of how true he's actually just been.*

...but I wouldn't go pointing your Magic Mirror around at this time of night. You got me, of course, but I could've been doing... doing anything!

*Although Robin isn't sure about that. He's spent the past few days doing stuff he didn't exactly think he'd be doing. But it isn't "anything", at least, not really. He shakes his head vigorously.*

Look, Treguard, I'm sleepy. I promise to tell you if I find out some stuff, okay? I'll even talk to Callinspot for you if you want. But right now, I'm going to bed.

*He trudges off towards the forest.*

[Treguard]

Understood.

*He swipes a hand through the air. Nothing happens.*

Mirror off.

*Nothing happens.*

Er... dismissed? Communications blackout? Game over? XYZZY?

*Nothing continues to happen. Robin has walked out of sight, leaving Treguard staring blankly at the empty street in Wolfenden. He blinks a couple of times, beginning to silently curse himself for losing his touch, before he realises that he's been gesturing with the wrong hand. He swipes the other hand, and the Mirror goes completely blank with a slight fizzing, hissing noise.*

Easy.

*With a groan, Treguard eases himself out of his chair. He stretches, his frame cracking a little as he limbers up as best he can. If he remembers correctly, there's a bedroom up the stairs to the left, although he's never exactly been sure whose it is. Images of elves, genies, halflings and maids flick through his head, but then - as he reminds himself - all this stuff is mine anyway.*

A successful return...

*...he says to nobody in particular. For half a second, Treguard glances in the direction he used to face when addressing the unknown presence known as "Watchers". A slight smile plays around his face as he starts to make his way out of the Antechamber.*

...the allotted hour...

*And he shuffles off. When, eventually, he finds his bed, he is asleep before his head hits the pillow.*

[ModNote: Continued for Treguard in Dunshelm Ascending (formerly Arise).]