Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Impostors and Impositions [22 Nivvem 4385]

Mirrored from Sythyry.

The Induction

I might not pay that much attention to the woes of Jagraton, who did nothing much to make himself well-loved. I definitely listen to Jyondre and Yerenthax. I believe I will listen more to Invincible Fire Demon in the future. (This has absolutely nothing to do with him being very Orren, remarkably sensible for an Orren, plenty cute, and experimenting with kissing members of other species.)

Jagraton: “I demand you help rescue Prince Rastomil!”

Me: “Thank you very much, Jagraton.” I avoided any number of more sarcastic replies only with the greatest of moral character difficulty.

Invincible Fire Demon: “Well, will you help?”

Jyondre: “We’re going to!”

Me: “Of course I will.”

Invincible Fire Demon: “If you don’t, we’re going to go there and take care of the situation ourselves.”

Jyondre: “We’re going to go there and beat up that Lady Noshi.”

Me: “I’ll help…”

Invincible Fire Demon: “We’ll rip her fur out ’til she tells us what she did!”

Jyondre: “And how to reverse it!”

Me: “I’m in.”

Jyondre: “We’ll risk our lives!”

Invincible Fire Demon: “Our honor!”

Me: “I’ll help.”

Invincible Fire Demon: “Our visas!”

Jyondre: “But this is wizard work!”

Me: “Which is why I’ll be helping you.”

Jyondre: “Without a wizard we will surely fail!”

Invincible Fire Demon: “Doomed! Doomed!”

Jagraton: “Let’s get on with it!”

Yerenthax and me: “But they’re so cute when they’re in a Wild Rush!”

Invincible Fire Demon: “Were we rushing? … sorry!”

Our Clever Plan

The plan evolved into two parts. (1) Find out where the real Prince Rastomil was hidden, and (2) extricate him from the place discovered in part (1).

Jagraton: “And (3)! Skewer the liver of this imposter who is imposting away at the identity of the prince!”

Phaniet: “No, or not unless we somehow challenge him to a duel or something. We know too much about the Hanijan legal system already.”

Me: “And the prison system, for that matter. Though you might get along quite well with Khipo.”

Our Less Clever Results

Phaniet: “Here is some fur of the prince, from his brushes. It will serve as an arcane connection, allowing us to locate him with perfect accuracy.”

Me: [after a couple of failures] “Unfortunately, I believe Rastomil has has been subjected to There is None Who Knows Thee, which breaks nearly all arcane connections. His fur is useless for location. Perhaps the kidnappers were, unaccountably, expecting to kidnap him.”

Phaniet: “There is a way …”

Me: “Yes, but it’ll take me three days to do. I’ll get started tomorrow morning.” Abandoning a good bit of work on an enchantment, alas.

Jagraton: “But! By then he may be killed, or removed beyond the range of your spells! Now! Start seeking him now!”

Me: “The procedure has to be started at dawn. Provide me with a dawn now, and I will start now.”

Jagraton: “I must seek him myself, and sooner than soon!”

So we messed around a bit with Veil spells (which conceal the subject from most senses), and miniaturization, and flight, and detections spells, and location spells, and all sorts of things.

Jagraton, of course, was the one who actually went inside Lady Noshi’s mansion to hunt around. At night, of course, for the best safety and convenience. In the shape of an invisible and inaudible hummingbird, he zoomed around, looking everwhere he could. He buzzed over Lord Kethji, who mumbled and rocked in his bed in a locked room high up in a turret, his cheek-fur sloppy with splashes of that purple drug. Lady Noshi herself slept in a knot of blankets on a cot in the next room over, also dripped with that purple narcotic — perhaps her guilty conscience over adultery and kidnapping and all would not let her sleep without such aids.

Prince Rastomil’s impostor got the nicest bedroom, on the second floor of the mansion. A big round bed draped in chenille and mink-fur, a decanter of licorice brandy on the side-table, a big box of feminine jewelry on the vanity, big shelves of books on two walls, a substantial closet of clothing for a noblewoman in the Hanijan styles. The impostor sprawled in the middle of the bed, looking utterly at peace with himself and the world. There were no signs that he required any narcotics. He did wear his disguise to bed: natural enough if it were a matter of spells.

If the mansion held any prisoners, or dungeons to hold them, they were not visible to Jagraton.

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