Clare, by this point was a fairly well thought-out character (see here for details). What follows is the pre-game journal entry, describing the first time she walked the pattern. It does include some further character development, and helped me to start to think as her.
Llewella finally took me down those stairs, and to the locked chamber wherein lies the Rebman pattern. She said nothing - it had all been said before. She stood by me, and I looked into her eyes - their jade colour a reflection of my own. Why had she agreed to teach me all she knew of pattern, I wondered, given she was so careful to hide her powers from most. Why had my parents chosen her as guardian? She embraced me on impulse, and I think it suprised her as much as it did me. I turned and placed my left foot on the pattern.
As she had said, blue-white sparks outlined it. I placed my second foot on the pattern, and felt the current caress me. I walked forwards, feeling the building of charge within me. Even under water, my considerable tresses rose above me. A turn back upon myself and the pressure grew - the first veil was approaching. Nothing else mattered; I gazed at the fierly line at my feet, stoically took step after step, forging on as if against some implacable force. My hair sparked all around me, and I forged on, finding reserves from inside myself. Then the resistance decreased. I was through the first veil. The next few steps were on autopilot, as I tried to assimilate what the first veil had meant - I was suddenly aware that the pattern was a part of me, and that I was in some way a part of it too.
I walked on for maybe a dozen paces this way, lost in that knowledge, as the sparks rained around my knees. I considered how this would interact with what Dworkin was teaching me about making trump cards. Surely he must know that I was more than than the innocent girl Llewella was tutoring? Surely he must know that she is more than the disinterested princess who sits in Rebma's court and cares little for the affairs of Amber? I walked round an arc, and as it became a straight line, a barrier rose against me again - the second veil. Three right-angle turns, and it reminded me of walking in quicksand, the time I'd nearly drowned as a babe, and had had to be rescued by one of Llewella's maids. Only this time I wasn't sinking. My head was ringing, and my eyes were on fire. I struggled on, then the veil parted.
I walked on, and was confronted by a swirling filigree in the pattern. The waters in the room were moving now, bufetting me like the wind that plucks the climber from a knife-edge ridge. I concentrated hard on the filigree, but found myself laughing like a mad woman at the currents' efforts. Out from the filigree and along the Grand Curve. It was as if the whole universe was watching me, judging me. Would they find me unworthy? It seemed not. The next few curves and straights were easier, and I understood why. They knew that I would do it, and that I would do it more than once. It felt like the pattern and I had always been for each other. Then ten dizzying curves, a short arc and line, and the final veil.
It was hard. Harder than I had expected. The waters were hot and cold, and pushed me this way and that. I was surrounded by a girdle of sparks. There was nothing, just the sparks and the pattern. Time ceased to mean anything to me. Somehow I pushed on, one step at a time, and then I was there. I stood still, getting my breathe back, resisting the temptation to laugh out loud, or dance, or... go anywhere.