I held the trump of Sand and concentrated. There was a long slow
period of nothing. My mind felt dulled and tired. The contact wasn't
going through. Connie held my arm to join the attempt. He too felt
resistance. I suggested that we might be too close to Ygg and that
maybe we should stop and try again a few shadows away from the dying
tree. Connie disagreed. He urged me to keep trying, so I did. I
found a cool spot in the darkness and grasped ahold of it. I could
feel it's chill not just in my mind, but in my hand. The card was
turning cold. We were making contact. There was a very tentative
"Hello?"
"Hello Sand, I am Simon, son of Bleys."
"..and I am Konstantin, son of Renaldo, son of Brand."
With that the contact was immediately broken. It looked like Sand was
no big fan of Brand and more than a little paranoid. I sighed.
Connie apologized repeatedly and lamented his being related to Brand.
He called it a curse. This was not the end. I borrowed the Trump of
Sand and swore to attempt contact again in the future.
Connie's next plan involved a trip to Tirnanog.