Diomedes strides across the ice one last time, much more stately than the last time. Cold rain still pitter patters from the heavens.

After the son of Brand picks his way along the bank, past the strange white flowers that only grow in proximity of the Ship, he makes his way to where the abandoned and currently near useless dock. He takes the path towards Evans Mill

In the distance he can hear church bells ringing.

Diomedes has a slight smile on his face, tempered by something else.

Despite the cheers, now only two lone figures wait for him. In the gloom, lamp lights can be seen through the windows of most of the homes. A small storm is brewing, and with the defeat of Lord White, its due to break any moment.

The two waiting are the Smith, Horace Mumford, and Jacob Cooper's younger brother- Tannard..

"We wanted to thank you for all that you done for us," Mumford starts to say, instantly clumsy with his words and sounding apologetic.

Diomedes gives a quiet nod and then looks at Tannard.

Tannard shoots the Smith a hard look before turning back to Doctor Dismas. "You're room at the Inn is still waitin' for ya Doctor.. and I made sure yer men were fed." He removes his hat to scratch his head. "Folks is a bit spooked is all." He looks pained to admit it. "I'm sorry about that," he says sincerely. "I know that you did right by us- and by my brother.."

He nods in the direction of the dock. "We seen that you'd bested that fellah." He hesitates. "What happened Doctor?"

"It might trouble your dreams forevermore to know." Diomedes says quietly. He gestures for the men to not head back to the town, but along the river shore. "I fought for the right of you and your town not to be their prey. And I won, although it was a closer run thing than I ever imagined."

The Smith opens his mouth and closes it, as if he might like to press the matter, but chooses otherwise. He and Tannard follow along.

As he walks, Diomedes thinks of Poseidon, the ancient god of the Sea. In his portfolio is also horses, and most importantly of all, Poseidon is also known as Earthshaker. It is these thoughts that come to mind as he talks, as he begins to use his Pattern, to change and mold the shadow.

Its almost a question of faith when one doesn't actually leave the Shadow. Probability seems to require something in terms of time, pressure, and stress. There is no instant gratification, not without crossing to another Shadow where your desires can be found readily. Yet- Diomedes knows that just because he can't sense his handiwork right off, that doesn't mean that something isn't happening somewhere. Conviction is something like faith..

"You probably wonder who and what I really am." Diomedes says. "My Men...are ordinary men and women like yourselves, who travelled with me and my cousin. Miho and I...are different. As were the creatures on that ship, in their own way."

Mumford blanches at this admission, but Tannard doesn't flinch. "Yeah, I reckon you'd have to be a fool not to have realized that all along, Doctor." He shoots Mumford another quick look.

"Call me Diomedes." Diomedes says. "I have many names, but in all languages that I speak, I favor that one over all others."

"However." Diomedes continues as he walks. "You and your townspeople are free now. The inhabitants of this ship will trouble you no further. As for my men, treat my men well, they will make useful and productive citizens of your town. Where I go next, none can follow, and so I ask you to allow them into your community, your congregation."

"You're.. you're going to leave them here? Here with us?" Mumford sounds dumbstruck.

Diomedes nods.

Tannard takes him by the arm and turns him around to face himself. However instead of berating his fellow townsmen, he cocks his head and leans towards the other man and speaks quietly to him, one on one. The two men have a brief exchange. Mumford wrings his hands towards the end, but then quickly nods.

"We'll take 'em in. We lost some menfolk with the Indian Raids and against them lot on the Ship. There's more than a few widows in Evans Mill, and we can use a few strong backs. If you vouch for 'em, Doctor, we'll figure out something."

Harris Mumford nods his head. "Folks might be twitchy for awhile, but everyone will want to put this past us. Twiddy can start by teachin' 'em their letters and how to talk proper.. and, we'll work things out."

"I do vouch for them. You need such men." Diomedes agrees. "It is my wish that they help rebuild your community, and you provide them a home."

His concentration continues as he walks and talks, and his desire over this shadow takes shape. A directed earthquake, right over the dams, would not trouble the town overmuch. But a quake large enough to destroy the dam, and free the river, and carry the Marvelous Crystal Ship on its way back home is what Diomedes seeks to have happen.

Diomedes stops and places a hand against a tree.

"You may wish to hold onto something sturdy." Diomedes says simply, by way of warning.

It starts as the faintest of tremors, almost imperceptible. In fact both men just stop and stare at Diomedes, unsure of what it is that he's talking about.

A few moments later they realize full well. While not strictly necessary, they both move quickly to a nearby tree- unsure of what to expect. Poor Harris starts to breath quickly and turns a paler shade of white, and even Tannard is wide eyed and astonished.

Was it enough to break the dams? Diomedes can't tell from this spot- but can reasonably take the Pattern on faith.

When the tremors subside, poor old Mumford just turns tail and runs back towards town. Tannard hesitates for a moment. "I guess you're something like an Angel, huh?" he poses. "I got no other way to figure it. Or like a Prophet or sumthin." He looks back towards town and shakes his head. "I'm going to have to get him drunk or sumthin', convince him that he just imagined it."

He presses his lips together. "Watch over my brother, iffin' you would." He nods one last time, in farewell. "Thank you," is the last thing he says before he turns back to Evans Mill- and he too, doesn't look back.

"Good luck, and may neither my family nor the Southerners trouble you again." Diomedes says, like a prayer, softly upon the wind.

What's the plan now Diomedes?

Diomedes will walk a few minutes, shifting shadow, seeking quiet and solititude, by the river that doubtless he still travels alongside. He walks to its bank and scoops up a handful of water and swallows it.

Pulling out his trump deck, he takes out three trumps, Fiona's, his father's, and Random's.

He puts Fiona's on the top of this trio and begins to apply his will upon it.

The card goes cold in his fingers for the longest moment. He tries again. Nothing. No-one is home. It's not unusual. He knows from experience that if it's convenient to his Aunt, he'll get through, but if it's inconvenient then she has no compunction about not answering.

What does he do?

"Inconvenient." Diomedes murmurs as he lets go of the attempt. "Not the first time I've been that. And its night."

He sighs and puts the card of Aunt Fiona away. He holds the other two in his right hand as he walks and continues to shift shadow a little more, willing it to be brighter, less dark, closer to twilight, or even before sunset. Once he achieves this, he stops by the faithful river once more and takes a drink.

Diomedes looks at Dad's trump for a long moment and then begins to make the attempt to contact his somewhat absent father.

There is no reply from his Father's Trump

Diomedes sighs. "Expected that. It couldn't be that easy, or else Theia wouldn't have given the instructions she did." he murmurs to himself in the sunset of the nameless shadow.

He then tries Random's.

This is a little different. The contact does not resolve, but the block is very light. Like when one does when one wants to hold the other party off for a moment while trying to move to a better location.

With Brand- there was just nothing, or a complete and utter refusal from his father. With Random..? There's a nibble on the line. He can sense this uncle that he barely knows is aware that his getting a call.

Diomedes begins counting aloud in Greek as he holds the call for ten more seconds. "Enna, Duo, Tria, Tessera, Pente, Exi, Efta, Ohxto, Ennaya, Deka."

Diomedes gets to 'Deka' and there's nothing. He tries Obi's card.

The card grows cold, which is not unexpected. There is no immediate response, but before Diomedes can consider his final countdown, he can sense the contact resolving.. and Obi's painted features start to come alive.

The Messenger has heard the call.