Mark wandered through an eerie forest, not bothering to be confused how he'd wound up there. He'd met several strange animals, all easily dispatched with a single resounding shot from his musket. He didn't question what they were, only finding them repulsive and odd and fruity.

Shadows draped over him from the overhanging branches, made him feel uneasy. They blocked his way, obstructing him from any sort of easy path. It'd be hard to get off a shot if something came up close to him, which taxed his nerves. He was just beginning to wonder what he'd do to extricate himself from the thicket of a wood when he spotted the armored car. Pushing violently through the underbrush, he followed it as stealthily as he could. There were old-fashioned looking soldiers inside, guarding something of apparently great value.

It was then that he heard that spectral laugh. It was a ghastly sound, and suddenly Mark wished desperately to be done with that car. He pushed his way out onto the road behind the car, and once it had faded into the distance, began walking the opposite direction. The road seemed to lead nowhere, just deeper into a forest that knew no end.

"Would you help a man out of his troubles?"

That was the first thing Dunceney heard when he stumbled upon the tea party. He had been lost, wandering aimlessly. No sign of Clant so far... he did not even know where he could be. During the way, he had been offering his help to those who requested it, like the paragon of knighthood he was. That said, such requests were many in number.

And that was what was happening now. The man with the blue hair apparently needed a helping hand. Dunceney would be glad to help. He looked around, to see a number of strange figures.

The only one who looked even half-normal was the man with the musket. All the others had a... feel to them. They were too similar to each other. That made the knight slightly suspicious.

"I would.", Dunceney spoke, answering the pianist's question.

That's just smashing! Another guest! More helping hands for the task meant more graves to be du- oops, that was supposed to come out as the endeavor being made easier or something. The pianist began reducing the volume, playing softer and softer.

"Well, her Mad Majesty the Queen of Hearts currently in power has no King." Said another copy, a dark-green colored man in fancy robes. He took a deep puff of his pipe (he thought the hookah would be too cumbersome at the table) and continued. "You'll see, without the moderate half of her kingdom, she has gotten the crazy idea that she should rule all." A multitude of rings came out when he spoke.

"And here I thought I was crazy." Interrupted the cat. "Or 'We', not so sure which one."

They explained that the Queen is a foul-tempered monarch, like a blind fury, very quick to decree a death sentence for any perceived slight. The King is usually very mild-mannered, and quietly pardons the 'criminals', not like the executioners carried out the orders anyways...

Still, this turn she was without a King, thus she had no need for servants -a mere word was enough. And despite her power, the White and Red monarchs could stand up to her, she'd have no chance without a power great enough to face the Chess kingdoms.

"An army greater than all others." Continued a black-haired cook. "She's going to take over everything in this land of fragments of dreams, should she find the treasure I stole... or we stole, whatever." He said, slightly confused. "And if she finds the White Rabbit's true power nothing will ever be safe."

By now, the piano was barely audible, even to the Dormouse or the Cat. "The power she seeks is sealed, but the White Rabbit has been lost, there are search parties everywhere and the parts missing at this table have nearly all of the speed and agility available." He had never been particularly strong, the absences are a representation of the lost abilities further weakening his physical skills.

Of course, mind-reading could compensate in a brawl, and probably be more than enough for the thugs at the Queen's disposition... but there were just as many comparable to him as there were weak ones. In any case, he'd have to compensate with even more magic, but as everything it was also reduced in ammount.

"Does anyone have any idea where to start searching?" Jabberwock stopped playing the piano, all of the copies vanished into thin air and he gained a hat and the sword. "Oh, does anyone want some tea? Or has any special needs?" He wasn't that weak, he could probably still craft stuff with his powers.

He straightened his mask, a broken half of a white mask with only a red diamond were the eye-hole should be, covering the right side of his face of course.

"I am Sir Dunceney... a wandering knight on a quest." Said the blue knight, carefully measuring his words. Before him were a group of men - or, as the cat had hinted, only two men and some manifestations of the voices in the Jabberwock's head - he wasn't sure he wanted to share his burden with.

In fact, his burden was his alone. But he needed directions... help tracking the berserker.

He would help them. They wished to put an end to the Queen of Hearts's tyranny... Dunceney disliked tyrants. And perhaps - just perhaps - someone in that group could help him track Clant in return. Or perhaps - it was a possibility - he would find his foe amongst the Queen's followers.

That man was attracted by violence...

"Ah! The Hare's body!" Said Jabberwock once he noticed the new guest. "It seems his mind is absent, but I can track it now." He said as he thanked the little miss over and over, inviting her and her servants to some pastries he had prepared for his party. "Just in time too, see? Six 'o clock, tea time." And again with the clock, even if that was exactly what he said ten or so minutes ago. Oh well, at least the White Rabbit was gone or his obsession with time would get him sidetracked a lot.

"I was talking about a current predicament with these gent... hm?"

"Hey now, wait a second." Said the Jabberwock, inspecting the one named Dunceney more closely. "Haven't I seen you before?"

While he was answered the negative, he nonetheless tried to recall just where he has seen someone that looked like this fellow. The Master of Ceremonies reached for and grasped something that only he could see, floating in the air next to this knight.

It appeared before all the guests, a broken black string with a familiar feel to it. "One end attached to this guy and the other forcibly torn..." He said to no-one in particular, inspecting the mess that was the broken cable attached to Dunceney.

"Now I remember!" He yelled suddenly, accompanied of laughter. "The Queen's new subject!" He laughed more and more (although not as unnerving as the time inside the car), letting himself fall back on one of the many chairs in the long table. "That fellow was the one responsible for my present state, talk about annoying."

The knightly guy asked for more details, to which he answered. "Well, I'd have to go a little further back, but alright." He made the long, slender eastern pipe appear on his hands once more -the real one had been in possession of the Rabbit and thus lost, sadly.

"It was a few days ago." He took a puff of the pipe and continued. "I had been seeking the embodiment of the madness of Rule to seal it, but the queen's men had taken it first, according to the clues I found." The smoke began to gather and a scene could be seen inside, sort of like figurines walking across the field. (An advantage to being an illusionist with a mindshake in his head was that everyone had a different point of view, and not just metaphorically).

The queen was playing croquet, whereas the Jabberwocky was watching from a tree next to the field, biding his time. One of the queen's rangers approached her, he was clutching something to his chest tightly. Kneeling before her and presenting the item, one could see it was an apple... with something out of the ordinary...

Regardless, the Queen of Hearts was overjoyed, forgetting completely about the interruption of her game and just swinging her flamingo around as she danced. "The perfect moment." The Jabberwock said to his audience. "You see, the Cat's power is very selfish and fickle, mostly working only for the owner's amusement or escape." He read out of some info cards, the Jabberwock (and company) had been ordered to read from them should he/they feel the need to explain anything.

So he pranked the queen! The red-haired madman appeared behind her and made the dizzied bird's beak catch her ankle from behind to unbalance her, making her fall by means of a final push to the hips. Jabberwock brandished Gleipnir, the ribbon-chain, like a whip to bind the apple and bring it to his hands. If it looked like the silk-like ribbon was changing lengths that was because it really was, the thing was incredibly long, with several ends and the rest was stored elsewhere -with the power of the Rabbit to call it forth of course.

The queen yelled "Off with his head! Off with his head!" continuously, making her guards attack the Jabberwock.

"It would be bad if I let her use her power, but I couldn't just run! The Club needed to be properly sealed first." The apple from the vision began to glow, sealing non-physical things was much more complicated than just tying something up you see? Permanent or at least long-lasting seals took time to get the 'obsession' component of the god-chain knock-off to work properly, and even temporary ones took out a good chunk of power (to get them to form fast). "Post Scriptum: No way in hell I'm absorbing that thing, so taking the power is out of the question."

The Jabberwock faced the queen's minions and drew his sword. "Kneel." He said, as he unleashed a wave of psychic power that made the lesser subjects immediately drop to the ground, letting go of whatever weapon they had -knives, swords, bows or guns. He was waving around another end of the chain to seal the guards' movements with magic but...

Well, the remaining guards were obviously superior, and usually were granted protective gear and boons directly from the Queen. A gunman took his shot before Jabberwock could stop him, a bullet made of a rare material that absorbed magic and reacted to it...

Pausing for a second, The Master of Ceremonies explained that for one to defend themselves there was a critical thing you must always remember: You need to deflect the "will" somehow. Be it enchanting the weapons or clothes in your possession, or the very air and space around you, your own skin, maybe even the attack itself -whatever as long as you can drain or deflect the energy of the offender enough for you to remain unaffected.

So such a powerful object, charged with incredible amounts of energy, had very little trouble destroying the shield that Jabberwock had raised by reflex (and everything else he used for protection, for that matter) and injuring his leg. Curiously enough, instead of blood, it was a fine mist... it even looked like there were rose petals before they turned to red-ish dust. It may not look like a bad wound, but being little more than an illusion with a sense of self, it was even worse than the same injury on a human with that bullet; he couldn't be exposed any longer, too much danger.

Jabberwock decided he had enough and cast his spell, pouring magic into Gleipnir. Most of the guards were paralyzed by means of being enveloped in replicas of the silk-smooth chain, emitting an unpleasant feeling of choking in the air for all to experience. The others? They would have to make do with being distracted by the assortment of creatures pulled forth from the gates that had been opened with the Rabbit's power.

You could technically call that summoning, but those... insects and dragons and beasts from a world of nightmares were not under his control. He was merely letting these creatures inside the Wonderland from their original homes (scouted out by means of the Rabbit's power, naturally). He could try to dominate the beasts or make some sort of contract to bind them to him, but why bother? The guards were going to have their hands full and the queen... oh no! He had forgotten about the queen!

As the queen flailed about, unable to stand back up due to the tremendous fit she was throwing (or maybe because of her incredibly elaborate dress), she began to yell again. "Clant! Clant!" Well, at least she forgot about her magic, but who was this Clant guy? Perhaps one of her elite guards? That would be quite troublesome, even with the multiple voices giving him power, he couldn't stand up to a Jack and her guards and the Queen of Hearts herself.

Indeed, it seemed like "Clant" was the guard escorting the first ranger. The man was fighting against a pack of wolves with his bare hands, just whaling on the beasts without pause. It was to be expected, after all, he didn't want to actually kill anyone... but this man was much too brutal to even be slowed down by something like this.

The Jabberwock understood that with an injury such as that, he'd have no chance until it healed, but the magic on it meant that wouldn't happen until hours had passed. The only solution was constantly being screamed inside his head. "Let us out! Let us out!" It was a desperate move, but he was severely out-classed already and reinforcements wouldn't take long to arrive to the Queen's own front yard.

Thus, he began to sing his dark and strange melodies again, making another three of him appear as he attempted to limp away from the queen.

One of them, the knight from before, drew his sword in preparation should the queen try anything (her protective gear was too powerful for him to attack her up front, not to mention that against her the sword was just like any other blade since the Wonderland will not bare its fangs against a part of itself). And try she did, she attacked The Jabberwock with some of her wind magic, whipping her hand to call forth a blast of air.

Another one, wearing a waistcoat with a blue rose, sporting bloodied bandages on his right eye and white rabbit ears, confronted the remaining soldiers as they became free of bounds and beasts. Four guards were charging at him at once.

The third and last was the Cat, ready to face Clant. Agility would be the key factor here, that sword on his back was quite large, and even though the Cat wasn't technically alone against his foe that didn't mean he was strong enough to have a full-blown duel here. Both fighters prepared their weapons and... oh no...

A brief pause and an explanation: That sword, Clant's? It had powerful spells and enchantments on it; that it looked like it was made of a piece of night sky, full of stars and nebula as if a window to space, made this evident. He knew what that was, agony and pain made liquid, boiled over the black flame of terrible nightmares and cooled and tempered inside the frozen hearts of dead dreams. It was an attempt to copy some of the strange powers of the Spade, it could be heard on its howling through the air -a vortex of screams and tears raising forth from the fountain of suffering (only to those as sensitive as him, however).

What kind of powers? Well, drawing their attention towards the queen, the Jabberwock resumed the display. The knight swung his sword with the broadest, fastest swipe he could manage. "Grah!" Yelled the queen, seeing her magical gust disperse and not even shake the coat he was wearing. As the queen tried to zap him with lightning or blast him with fire, only for her magic to meet the sword and have its flow severed by the blade, the Jabberwock felt that they would have to take some desperate measures if they were to buy enough time for the seal to be completed.

---

Snow and daisies

Now, these goons rushing the Rabbit and mental company? Yeah, better than the rest of them, all trapped in what would no doubt feel like an estranging relationship... but really. The Jabberwock and Her Majesty Her Royal Pain in the Neck might be crazy and crazier, the former a tea-crazed walking loonie-bin and the later a power-crazed nigh-psycho, but neither were stupid: Both know that if word got out of the search (and retrieval) of this power the Chess kingdoms would not stand idle.

Sure, her present retainers were still of a classier batch than the usual fare -specially the sorcerers trying to close the gates (infinitely easier than opening them without the Rabbit, in the case of Wonderland) as soon as they form... but they better not delude themselves, they still have much to learn. The real powerhouses, the Jacks? Groups of them are watching the borders so that the White and Red royals don't try sneaking their spies or whatever.

The Jacks, like that guy Clant over there? They are a cut above the rest, they either understand the nature of their reality, had great willpower, or both. Not content with that, they also have some boons or stuff granted to them by the Queen of Hearts just like Clant.

And the soldiers right now? Thanks to all of the distractions going on they would be easy pickings even with both the Queen and Clant present, since they had been prevented from rushing him all of them at once. Really, for someone like the Jabberwock or Dunceney, killing them would be easy, trivial even... if not for a problem...

His nature; as a crafting fae of the realm of concepts, thinking outside his scope was hard. Sure, you can justify destroying an object to get components for a new one - but killing people was so... alien, so radically different from that, that it was so hard it might as well be impossible for him. Of course, as a fae, cheating people and attacking the psyche was well within his capabilities.

"What I am is something made by other people's requests, you see." He deliberately avioded having ideas of his own, it's hard and can get confusing with all the voices saying different stuff you know? That is why he got ordered by the royals (and everyone else) NOT to explain something in his own words, unless asked (maybe not even then).

Back to the story, he was taking big puffs from the pipe on his right hand. Dunceney and the rest of the audience didn't see much, but rest assured, the soldiers felt it. A sinking feeling, as if everything was getting hazy; if it could make the casters even a second slower in their thinking, it was already his win.

The Jabberwock could see it, the 'menace' that the others represent, like a milky fog that told him where danger was going to be. He could also see the places where they were the most relaxed or most open, like spots on their bodies.

Needless to say, the fastest soldier should at least have waited for someone else to join him. It was easy, leaning aside to make sure none of the fog corever him and hitting him on the chin with the pipe, the enemy swing missing its target completely. The pipe grew a blade, crystal-clear and pretty much immaterial.

Just because it could not touch the physical that doesn't mean it cannot do damage (specially since, being technically part of the Jabberwock the Rabbit could also use the Spade), it was the magical equivalent of a normal sword piercing through regular armor, working past the natural (and added) magical resistances all things have against harm and exposing and attacking the 'soft' parts. The mind was the target. Really, he didn't even have to do much, merely jolting the mind with his powers was so weird and confusing that the guard fell unconscious before the blade even left his body.

The next two where smarter, but that didn't prevent ducking under one swing and blocking the second with the pipe. Really, he might look scrawny but he's technically several people, that counts for something -even if one of them alone can only swing a real sword around for a few moments. A stab to the gut, a kick to the elbow and a sword to the neck was the reward for the guard's troubles.

The las- oh, the wizards freed a few more, oh well. The fourth soldier got a special trick, to spice up things, a hole opened right where he was going to stab and another opened right behind the Rabbit's back as the bunny was twisting up. The enemy sword went in and out like a fancy stage magic trick, while the Rabbit's blade was held up vertically and smacked/sliced him right across the torso, the Rabbit's hands holding it with enough spacing to fit the hole (he can hold the blade because of the same thing that make him get so hurt with the bullet from before; his misty blood has ups and downs). Seeing a man flying like a doll because he pretty much ran into a punch (and an open palm) was sorta funny, at least to him.

And speaking of blood, if he didn't want to see the snow-like thing falling to the ground and disappearing before his eyes, he'd better start addressing the problem of the increasing enemy numbers. Casting big and solid at the same time was a pain, but for that many he was willing to splurge a little.

He was going to rain fireworks on them, the soundwaves could hit like a run-in with a brick wall and the colorful sparks and lights would deliver quite a heavy psychical hit (again, he's not trying to kill them... or rather trying not to). But where is the fun in just that? He could give it more of a twist.

Hail.

Baseball-sized hail danced around, flying through the playfield like a swarm of bees. Exploding once in a while after hitting a few soldiers (and avoiding nightmare beasts, really, just because people think they are ugly doesn't mean that they should get hurt). Some where real, some where fake (or turned fake, if approaching an animal) just to get the sharper soldiers on edge, making them doubt their senses and fall prey of the illusions and get hit just as if it were a real hit. Kind of like the not-so sharp ones that can't disbelieve the illusions and get their perception highjacked, and then get hit by something not there.

"Saves juice, ya know?" Remaked the storyteller.

Whit the spellcasters distracted, his immediate surroundings no longer were a sea of white fog, and thus could actually respond to attacks properly; the only problem was that the guys were spreading too thin. Reading minds, seeing the menace, looking through their openings, making sure that the reaction time was fast enough and using magic, everyone was doing something different on different targets and at different times. What a pain. Everyone suggesting a different move, all at the same time; some of the names had a nice ring to it (Forest of gates), others were less original but straightforward (House of mirrors) but with everyone pulling in a different direction nothing would get done.

Not only that, as soon as he ducked under a sword swing  he had to move out of the way of a bullet, then jump away from the target of a fireball -a REAL one, not an illusionist's energy-inefficient immitation. Still he had the advantage of being the rabbit, that blasted silver watch that is always telling him that he's late for everything pushed him to be faster, making his sense of timing sharper... Sure, it is a maddening piece of clockwork that you could say was put together by the devil, but with everyone else holding him he won't go crazy -not all the time anyways.

He wouldn't get caught unaware again. Whenever someone shot at him, he'd open up a pair of gates and just make it pass from one side to the other. Same for casters, one of them tried to get him up into the air where he would be more open, by means of trying to sneak down and attacking with an orb of air... nice try, the Rabbit merely had to open a hole to recieve the impact and open two more to split appart the thing and blast away those bothersome swordsmen. Seriously, stop it with the blades; for every one whose mind he blanked, two more tried to kill him.

By now, it was time to escape, but first they had to check on the other two conflicts.