Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,

The Delicious Assault on Oorah Thrassen [27 Chirreb 4261]

Yesterday was dreadful, of course. Nothing went right ... one of the ovens collapsed and three dozen cakes needed to be rescued, at great personal risk, by the only fireproof person on the whole team. Which, in retrospect, was rather foolish, because the fireproof person on the team is quite far from crushproof, and zie had neglected to get insanely powerful magical protections from zir insanely powerful and powerfully insane ambassadee. When the oven started collapsing a bit more, Vae teleported most of the top of it into the village of Greentwanger on Aradrueia. (I know I didn't write about it yesterday, because nothing much happened there -- no Sleeth, for one thing -- but we got a load of spice-bits there, so Vae had a connection. What they will do with the top of an oven is a mystery to me.) This was not wholly devastating, because we had enough to fill the order, with eleven boxes to spare, after it was over.

One batch of butter had gone rancid, and needed to be replaced by a quick teleport to some shopping very far off, since we're doing this baking without magic.

Diffitt sliced his hand very badly -- apparently while complaining to his half-sister about me -- and there was one fuss about who was to heal him, and another fuss and a half about what was to be done with the blood-spattered pie. (The result being that the blood-specky top crust was scraped off, they were put on the dinner table, marked "Diffitt-Flavored", and left for whoever wanted them. I was in no mood to taste Diffitt even that much.)

Riverred stepped in a pile of already-assembled boxes, while she was bossing Ptefshi around. This was a disaster, since we had only eleven boxes to spare, and this brought us down to 11, 940. As the official representative of the Duke (!) I was called upon to either revise the order or to decide that we could heal some of them or something. I had Vae go and count the number of people in Oorah Thrassen we were going to give boxes to (as of about midnight, when this happened, recognizing that it would surely change some by dawn): that number being 9,984. I decided that we could stand to have only 1906 boxes rather than 2108. (Yes, those are the sums I came up with. I had not been sleeping very much.)

Anyways ...

At an hour before dawn, the last cake was doilied, the last cream was whipped, the last slice of candied ginger was positioned, the last ribbon was tied, and the last box was loaded into the rack. A moderate-sized pile of Orren went to bed. A larger pile went for a pre-dawn swim, to work off some of the kathia they had guzzled to stay awake for the labors.

And Vae and I and 11,940 of Flooooooosh's best breakfast boxes were a tailflick away from Oorah Thrassen.

I've never been to the skybridge before, and I shall have to go back again sometime -- probably not to Oorah Thrassen any time soon of course. It's an impressive place. The top is a boardwalk half a mile wide, levitated by devices that seem vaguely like skyboat engines. There are, I hear, several layers of floors under it, where food is grown by the light of spell-lamps, and, in general, a great deal of magic substitutes for ordinary sorts of life things.

But Vae didn't want to stay there very long. There are old guardians on the skybridge, mighty ones, and she could not hide from them for long. (I wonder if that's somewhat of why we -- the Choinxeian League, I suppose -- never actually invade Oorah Thrassen very well.)

One utterly ridiculous spontaneous Locador spell to find everyprime outside the city wall in Oorah Thrassen. She took pains to conceal that spell, but not from my grandparent's toy.

One utterly ridiculous spontaneous Locador spell to distribute the breakfast boxes to everyone in Oorah Thrassen. She took pains to make that spell as blatant as possible.

One quick and not insane spell to zap us back to the Halflight Gate.

I must admit that I am unsure of the moralities and etiquettes of dealing with a nendrai with whom one has just committed a heinous, citystate-sized act of breakfast. We sprawled under the trees -- she made a big teardrop-shaped fire for me -- and chatted about the deed we had done.

She hugged me as she left for her home. That's very disturbing. I didn't know how to stop her though.

The City Guard gave me a salute and cheer when I flew in. I'm not really sure why, since I had mostly spent other peoples' magic and money, extravagantly, to do something that someone else had thought of, and that sounds pretty silly.

Still: bed does not seem pretty silly now.

I hope that Oorah Thrassen takes their revenge on Vae, and leaves Vheshrame alone -- and, in particular, leaves me alone. 'Cause I'm sure they're going to take revenge. Probably a revenge involving quiche, or some other barbarous warrior's dish.

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