LSS: Total Party Kill

Ugh. Isolde sighed to herself. None of this made sense to her. A Montagnian tyrant had been ruling over Toileandra with an iron fist, but a huge number of citizens in addition to hired soldiers had fought on his behalf. Now a mob was storming the castle. How had they gotten inside? Something wasn't adding up. But whether she had been told the truth or not, she was being attacked, so there was but one thing to do: fight.

Isolde was standing with a gaggle of aristocracy before her and the party behind. The noblemen all bore swords, now drawn and ready, but the ladies clearly had little to no training and were pressing against her. She amplified her voice using the spell she had learned by examining Reginald's Speaker.

"If you are trying to flee, use the centre of the hall. If you will stay to fight, then step close to the walls until the hallway clears."

The mob hit the raised swords of the aristocracy and a stream of noblewomen fled past Isolde. Then she was caught up in the fighting. There was a rhythm to any battle, Isolde had found, and here there was a harsh brang! brong! which echoed in the narrow halls. The candlelight cast huge shadows which flailed about on the walls, and the red carpet was dampened with a redder dye. The close range limited Isolde's abilities, for she hadn't been carrying a weapon on her, and she couldn't tell the two groups apart, but she shot off short jinxes at anyone who directly attacked her.

"May your arm be struck by pains and tingles!"

"May your rapier break in two!"

Then Florian, Lee, and the rest of the party arrived from behind her and joined the fray. Honkers knocked down both foe and friend with his massive wings, Lee struck down man after man with his heavy sword, and Lorelei did something to release a potent chemical smell into the air which felled a dozen men. Much to Isolde's disbelief, the party quickly drove back the mob till all that remained were unconscious and dead bodies.

Isolde stood frozen, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt hot and dirty, and wanted nothing more than a long bath, but everyone was now looking at her. She took a shaky breath.

"I think it is time for some reorganisation," she said.



Isolde, the party, and the most high-ranking nobles sat around a round, wooden table. Isolde looked up from the four-foot pile of internal documents and ledgers she had been reading to look at the others. She raised a fountain pen—what a wonder of technology!— and began writing.

"Some fundamental restructuring will be necessary in the upcoming years, but at the moment I cannot say I know any of you. In light of this, I will be appointing some of you to interim positions, however do keep in mind that these will be temporary.

"Lee, you are second in command to me. I need to know where all Reginald's troops are located. Lorelei, you will work with the current treasurer and tell me where all the misappropriated funds have gone. Vanessa, I want you to reexamine these supply chains. Florian? You can relay messages for me. There are several subjects not currently present in Gor Nathal who I shall need to inform of the change in government. That will be all for now. Is there any disagreement?"

All the nobles began to protest.

"What about me?"

"You can't give my position to this peasant!"

Isolde raised her hand. "I did say these are temporary appointments. I am sure I will get to know all of you over the next few years sufficiently to choose from among you in the future."

The treasurer was named Martin Vilnius. He was a balding middle aged man, small in stature and nervous in his disposition. Lorelei and Honkers found him in his office, packing up ledgers in a hurry. Honkers honked loudly and flew at him, which slammed him against a set of file cabinets. Paper and layers of dust descended on him like an avalanche.

"Please, I didn't do anything wrong!" he squeaked.

"HONK" Honkers bellowed, sending him cowering in the corner.

"Tell me about the missing money," Lorelei said, flipping through one of the ledgers.

"I can't, if I do the curse will fall upon me and my family," he pleaded desperately.

"Then show me," Lorelei said menacingly. "Because I can hex you, and that is nothing compared to what Honkers will do to you if you try to lie to me."

Martin reached into his bag and pulled out a black ledger and handed it to Lorelei. She opened it and started reading through it. This was apparently the master ledger and, as she looked through it and over the next few hours of study, she was able to pull back the curtain on the accounting trickery.

It was evening when Lorelei reported to Queen Isolde. Isolde was busy admiring herself in a new dress. It was beautifully embroidered, made of expensive fabric and was a shocking azure blue, with ornate gold trim.

"Do you like it?” Isolde said, twirling around. “It cost 100 gold pieces to make!”

"I hope you paid in cash," Lorelei said grumpily, "Because according to our treasurer, we are broke."

"What?!" Queen Isolde said, halting mid-twirl.

"King Reginald has been diverting large sums of gold to an organization called the Hand of Golux. Hundreds of thousands of gold pieces over years. He was trying to use violence and slavery to make up the difference, but we put a stop to it, so now we're broke. By my calculations, the kingdom will run out of money in three months, unless we can fix our economy, renegotiate our debts, or reclaim the fortune that was given to the Hand of Golux, assuming there is money to be had." Lorelei frowned, she had hoped to deliver better news.

"The Hand of Golux? I have never heard of that organization before. Perhaps Lee can look into that?"

"Apparently they were operating in Gor Chasten, no sign of what they were looking for in the ledger, but there was a lot of expenditures on laborers, mining equipment, and casualty reimbursements."

"Any other locations?"

"Yes, they were operating to the North in Gor Lobos, the ledger indicates they were spending a lot of money on unique spell reagents. It might be part of a ritual or a set of rituals, but without additional context, it's hard to know for certain.

"Anywhere else?" Isolde asked.

"Just one more Your Majesty, to the West in Gor Tarban. It looks like whatever was going on here consumed the majority of the gold, possibly a base of some kind is located there?”

“You’re a witch aren’t you?” Isolde asked Lorelei.

“It is illegal to be a witch,” Lorelei said evenly.

“It wasn’t before I was frozen. And so I will legalize it once more. In the meantime, I need someone with experience with the arcane, and I trust that you have that knowledge. Am I correct?”

“Your Majesty is most perceptive,” Lorelei agreed.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Queen Isolde said with a smile. “I want you to go to Gor Lobos, and discreetly look into the purchase of reagents. See if you can’t find the supplier and perhaps if we find them, we can find out more about this ominous organization.”

“Who can I bring with me?” Lorelei asked.

“Just Honkers. Try to be discreet. Go in, get the information, and then tell me what you find. Maybe a gryphon can get you there faster, ask Neirien for help on that. I want you to report back here in a week, send a message if you need more time,” Queen Isolde ordered.

"As you will, my Queen," Lorelei said with a bow and then departed.

Supply chains? Vanessa was supposed to handle supply chains?

Vanessa knew, of course, why Isolde chose her. After all, why would Isolde trust the former King Reginald's goons? Isolde had essentially just staged a magical coup. If she let the former lord who ran the place take over, they could just as easily wrest control from her just like they had just done with King Reginald.

Besides, why wouldn't Isolde trust them? Yes, they were a bit on the odd side of things, and Florian was admittedly a bit of heel – Vanessa still couldn't believe how petty he had been before the mob came. Still she had to admit that fighting a mob of people trying to kill you bonds you closer, and they had just had an epic fight facing a mob. Vanessa could still feel her heart beating in her chest after fighting that epic fight scene that was so epic and fast that she could scarcely describe how epic and fast it all happened.

Not that she had really done anything for the fight. The random decorative suit of armor that she had hidden behind had seen more fighting than her. Still, she had been on the right side, which was more than King Reginald’s goons could say.

But supply chains? She was a healer, not a logistics manager! If anyone could run the supply chains, it was her brother, Cyril. He had a brain for those kinds of practical matters, even if he was in prison. But her? Not a chance!

But before she could say anything,Florian groaned. “I don't want to be your messenger boy! That sounds like the stupidest job ever.”

Isolde cleared her throat. “May I remind you that I am queen now and you ought to do what I say?”

Florian glowered at her, but shut up.

It was then that Vanessa decided that she probably should just do what Isolde– rather, Queen Isolde– commanded. Though she would need some help to be a somewhat decent supply chains manager.

A lot of help.

It was then that she looked over and saw Boba Bojangles, looking as cute and fluffy as ever. Then she grinned.

He was connected and a good manager to boot! Perhaps he could help give her some hints.

And, feeling a lot better, Vanessa finally started to relax.

If it were any normal time, or normal day, Lee would have drank deeply and let the liquor take away the pain the mornings - no - the day's battles. He had a few nicks that he hadn't bothered getting the witches to heal and frankly, he suspected the pain was half of what was keeping him still awake. And now they had really gone and mussed things up. Lee had ended up in the one place he desperately did not want to be: responsible. The feeling of responsibility reminded him of those days when he was younger with a family and a business and a reputation. He had lost that, many decades ago, and to feel that tinge of responsibility was like salt on the wound. "You failed them all once," His conscience seemed to whisper to him, "Just like you'll do now."

Annoying thing, conscience.

Lee knew every second counted. Right now the entire army apparatus was at risk of rapidly disintegrating into nothing - or worse, regrouping to fight for Reginold. It was important to start consolidating; and that meant talking. Talk talk talking.

First it meant going through the nobles and sussing out who was who. Each baron had been required to supply a contingent of men from their province, and securing the support of the nobles meant accumulating loyalty. Luckily, most of the nobles in the kingdom had been present for the grand ball and festivities. Unluckily, many of them were still quite put off from nearly being run over by a mad goose or sliced up from Lee's swords. Take Lord Ivan of Illahee - he seemed quite put off.

"Look here, SIR Lee", Lord Ivan retorted when asked for a pledge of fealty, "How can I pledge support to such ruffians as yourselves? You just about ran a sword through my wife but an hour ago. And now you wish loyalty?"

"And your loyalty pledges to the pretender, Reginald, were they not out of fear?" Lee rejoined. "Besides, your wife was jus a bit gettin' in the way - I wasn't about to slice up the lady!"

"A pledge out of fear is a mere pretense! Why should I not withhold my judgement? Let us see this queen rule first!"

This was where Lee was glad to have Florian about to assist him at times, as he cut in - "Rule the wreckage after all of our lands are overrun by the neighboring nations who see a divided and unprotected land? They'll carve us up! Strike from all sides! Your fiefdom is right on the water and the north edge of the kingdom. Suppose the Silver Kingdom of Dale were to decide they wanted a buffer?"

It was a grueling process, and the as midnight was tolled out of the city bells, Lee swore he would sleep in a few hours, yet by morning light he swore he would sleep by noon.

There were simply too many pieces to pick up all at once. Still, by the time Lee crashed in a small side room of the castle - barricading the door just in case - they had nearly one third of the Reginald's former army pledged to Isolde. At least a third would be neutral. The only question is now, where would Reginald turn up? Could he promise gold to enough mercenaries and titles to enough barons to put together an effective force? His gashes no longer sang out in pain - perhaps because they had begun to heal, and perhaps because the sweet embrace of sleep swept him away.

"Here you are, Your Majesty," Adeline said. She was one of the handmaidens Joana had lent Isolde. Isolde thought her rather plain, an average blonde with brown eyes and freckles, but Joana had informed her that Adeline was considered the height of beauty. Isolde wasn't sure whether to trust Joana, given that she had been close to King Reginald, but Florian had vouched for her. Whether she could trust Florian's judgement was another matter.

Adeline helped Isolde pull on her skirt, stomacher, and gown. Clothing had become much more elaborate and cumbersome since she had last been alive. While Adeline was adjusting the layers, however, Isolde felt the cool touch of metal on her back. Immediately she froze Adeline and stepped away. The girl was holding a knife, and while her expression was triumphant, her eyes revealed her current terror. Isolde finished pinning the gown herself, albeit much more clumsily than someone more accustomed to the style, and exited her chambers.

"Malte, take Adeline away to be investigated," she ordered the guard as she swept down the hall. "And send Joana and Florian to the library."

"What do you mean "No?" Lorelei asked.

"We are not beasts of burden that you can order around whenever you like!" Mallin sneered back. "We aren't here to carry you to and fro at a whim." Lorelei regarded the gryphon carefully. She was big, with grey fur and wings. Her eyes were yellow and blazed fierce and proud.

"The Queen needs me to head North and she asked me to do so in person," Lorelei said, trying to match her opponent's defiant attitude, but not quite succeeding.

"Well as far as I'm concerned, Queen Isolde can-"

"MALLIN," Neiren said. Big as Mallin was, Neiren was still bigger and that gave Mallin a moment's hesitation. Neiren took advantage of the moment.

"Mallin's Eyrie is currently seeking out King Reginald, and every gryphon is needed for that task," Neiren said. Mallin smirked at Lorelei with a look of disdain.

"And anyway, Gryphons are not good enough to perform the task you are asking of them. They lack the strength and endurance for that kind of flight."

"What?!" Mallin squawked loudly. "We are perfectly capable of doing anything!"

"Discretion is more important than speed if I understand correctly. And I have just the thing..." Neiren reached into her bag of holding and started searching through it, before pulling out.. a broom?

"Behold!" Neiren said! Lorelei looked at the broom confused.

"What is it?" Lorelei asked.

"It's a broom of flying!" Neiren said! "It can fly faster than a gryphon, doesn't get tired, is very quiet, and way less demanding!" Mallin looked peeved, but Lorelei took the broom.

"I think this could work nicely. And I can pretend to be a maid if someone asks about the broom," Lorelei said thoughtfully. "But I am worried about being recognized by someone. Do you have something that might be helpful?"

"Actually!" Neiren said, going through the bag of holding again. "Aha! Here it is!" she pulled out a pointy hat.

"This is a hat of disguise," Neiren said. "It's very nifty. You can use it to disguise your appearance for short periods of time. About twenty minutes I think," Neiren said. "I'm not exactly sure though."

"Pointy hat and a broom," Lorelei said. "What about Honkers? How do I disguise him?"

"Thanks for reminding me! I totally forgot that I had this in my bag of holding!" Neiren exclaimed. She pulled out a black set of armor that was... goose shaped?

"I discovered this armor in an unusual place and I have never been able to figure out how it works. Every time I touched it, it would start honking at me," Neiren said. "But maybe Honkers can make use of it?" Neiren tried to open the armor,

"HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK..." the honking droned on ominously as red light emitted from the armor. Honkers perked up at the sound and waddled over curiously.

"HONK! HONK HONK HONK!!" Honkers replied.

"HONK HONK," the armor replied and then the light turned green as the armor opened. Honkers waddled over and jumped inside, after which the armor closed around Honkers. Black spikes emerged from the armor as if like a sea urchin and a red visor came down around Honker's eyes. Honkers flapped his wings and the motion was a blur.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure of this either, but if I had to guess the spikes have poison, the visors give him dark vision, and there may be a blur spell on the armor to make it harder for him to be hit," Neiren said as they looked on in awe. Within the armor, a mechanical sound emitted,

"HONK"

"What's that on the armor?" Lorelei asked.

"It looks like 12 white bird and 12 black birds, gathered around a single bird made of diamond?" Neiren said. "Interesting, it doesn't seem to correspond to any known myth or origin story. Perhaps it is a holdover from an age when birds ruled the Earth?" Neiren said.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Mallin said. "Ancient geese ruling the world?"

"I think they might be swans," Neiren said weakly.

"What a wild imagination you have," Mallin said crossly.

"HONK. HONK HONK HONK. HISS HONK HONK HONK," Honkers said. Suddenly there was a chime noise and suddenly a nasally voice came from the armor.

"Translation software for lesser species has now been activated," the voice said.

"What was that?" Mallin said.

"Stop asking stupid questions and feed me some bread," the armor replied.

"Honkers, is that you?" Lorelei asked.

"Bread first," Honkers replied, wiggling his armored tail.

When Lee work up at first he didn't have the foggiest idea of where he was, and once the memory of that returned he realized he hadn't the foggiest idea of what time or day it was. He stretched enough to pull his flask and took a long pull of the hard liquor. Today was going to be rough, and hey, it was five o'clock somewhere. "Might even be five o'clock 'ere!" he muttered as he slid off the bed. He stuffed on his boots and straightened himself up. "May as well find out if we rule the world or face the gallows!" And he strode out of the room.

Today Lee would have to visit the royal armory - someone needed to get him an inventory - he would also need to inspect the local guard units and go over the security plans. Naturally, whoever was in charge would need to be relieved and a new officer installed. Can't have some group of ruffians showing up and taking out the new queen after all. Not to mention whole mobs somehow showing up. He stopped by the throne room for an 'audience' with Isolde - erm, Queen Isolde, in which she spent most of the time complaining about music and attire and so on.... so he left, letting Florian take the unfortunate role of listener.

The only thing he learned from the audience was grim news - Lorelei, the only other rational member of their party was disappearing to 'find Reginald' on a flying broom or some nonsense. Which was ridiculous, because the most likely place for ol' Reginald to show up was right here in the capital. At least she took the ridiculous Honkers with her.

Setting the day in order, he swung by to see Vanessa, who was busy with Bubba. They were discussing management techniques including how to delegate.

"Gotta know how to delegate!" Bobba was saying hopping about with excitement. "Every good leader needs good folks under him that they can trust. Essential!"

"Right!" Lee said, "And I need to delegate a task to you - I need a good inventory done of the royal armory. Maybe if you have a minute Vanessa?"

Bobba turned on him, eyes glaring. Vanessa though, hummed and said "I can try to fit-"

"NO" Bobba shrieked at Vanessa. "NO! NO! Haven't you been listening? You need to run the operation! You can't be rummaging about counting arrows and boots!" Vanessa shot Lee an apologetic look.

"Find your own clerk!" Bobba shot at him.

"I barely have anyone left in the garrison." Lee growled. "Maybe we could work together a bit, eh?"

"Well, maybe we could find someone to help you?" Vanessa suggested brightly

"That's better than nothin, but we need this place secured yesterday." Lee grumbled.

Bobba seemed to relent. "Fine. But no asking for Vanessa to do stuff like this. She's the Minister of Commerce, and you'll find few soldiers willing to stick around if they can't be fed!

Seeing no use arguing with the duo, Lee worked his way through the halls over to the captain of the Guard. At least here he had some authority...

The Captain was a skinny fellow who appeared to be old enough to have been Lee's grandfather. Lee's first thought was to just shove him out to pasture, but something called to him to give the old fellow a chance to defend himself.

"So." Lee began flopping into the chair across from the captain. "King Reginald, Pretender, quickly deposed. And here sits the captain of the guard. At my service, I presume? But why should I bother keeping you?"

"Reginald never could win the men's loyalty." The Captain responded. "He tried to buy it, but always promised and never paid. It held things together for a time, but... It could never last. I suppose I should be embarrassed that we folded so easily, but even I was ready to accept, well, anyone but him. Will the new Queen be better?"

That, Lee thought to himself, was the million gold piece question. "What I say about the queen will carry no weight. But I think you will find her easy to serve." Lee sat back and looked up at a painted map of the castle and surrounding defenses. "Tell me why you think the defenses failed."

"Well, first of all, because we were distracted. That and understaffed."

"Everyone is always understaffed. What were the standing instructions for the guards?"

"Well, we were to be on the lookout for a whole host of - you know, Reginald had so many enemies it was hard listing them all -"

"Standing instructions. Written ones. What were they?"

The captain winced. "We haven't done that recently. In years, really."

"What about a roster - you have one of those I hope?" Lee swore under his breath as the old captain winced again.

"No, not really."

Yep. They were going to need a new captain.

Joana stood in the library. Tall wooden shelves towered around her. Small engravings displayed the time-period of the books on each shelf. Joana had been summoned to the library over two hours ago and had been locked inside. She suspected this had something to do with Isolde, who seemed to hate Joana's guts. In the two hours she had been here, Joana had read an entire book and walked through the whole library looking for another.

One caught her eye. A book titled "From The Fisherman's Inn". She got through the first few pages before Florian flung the doors wide and marched in with a furious look.

"First she makes me a measly messenger and now she instructs where I am supposed to go? Ridiculous! She is going on a power trip already! It's only been a day and she already has the entire kingdom in an economical collapse!"

"Florian, I'm pretty sure the kingdom was already in this state," she murmured pulling out a book. She inspected it briefly before returning it to the shelf.

"Well, Isolde isn't helping," he said, pacing around the room in an agitated manner.

"Let's just wait to see what she has to say to us, okay?" Joana said, trying to contain her own anxiety. Her words must have worked, because Florian visibly relaxed. As he did, his interest in the book, which was now sitting on the nearby table, grew.

"Joana. May I see that book?" Joana picked up the book and handed it to him. Its purple cover was ornamented with gold flecks and small jagged gems were arranged in a star shape.

"Sure. I found it on that shelf over there," Joana said, pointing at a shelf a few rows away. Florian inspected the book and smiled.

"This is a good book. You should read it! I'm sure you would enjoy it." Florian handed the book back to Joana. At that moment, Isolde stormed into the room in a fury.

"We are going to make some changes here or so help me I will throw one or both of you in the tower," she said before turning to Joana.

"Joana, why would you hire someone who is out for my life? I told you to find me a handmaid not a potential assassin. I need you to find me an assassin who will work for me not against me," Isolde said with a fire in her eyes. Joana nodded silently. Isolde turned to Florian and pointed at him.

"And Florian, I have only been unfrozen for a few weeks. I need you to help me become familiar with what happened while I was frozen. That means briefing me at meetings and speaking on my behalf to lords and other political members. If you can't do that you are useless to me," she looked at the both of them, "Understand?"

They nodded.

"Good. Joana, I want my new handmaiden by tomorrow. Florian, I want a list of potential allies on my desk by sundown. Don't let me detain you," she said.

Isolde returned to her chambers, threw herself on her bed — darn the multicoloured get-up that Adeline had put her in — and buried her face in the pillows. Court intrigue was far too complicated, and she might as well be in a foreign country for all she knew of the current political atmosphere. It had been bad enough back home, but now all Isolde felt was overwhelmed and lonely. She lifted her head to the side, and noticed the flute Nierin had gifted her on the bedside table. It sparkled invitingly in the candlelight, and, as if in a trance, Isolde found herself bringing it to her lips.

There were two major holes, the one on the side bearing what appeared to be a mouthpiece. Isolde placed her mouth on the hole and blew into it, but no sound was produced beyond her breath. She examined the flute more closely. It was closer to a piccolo than to a recorder. Isolde had never played the piccolo, as it had been invented shortly before her battle with Ollivier. There was only one craftsman who produced them, and she had had to sneak out to commission one as her family was travelling through Goir Cathan. Isolde idly wondered whatever had happened to it.

She lifted the flute to her lips once more, this time carefully rotating the instrument until, suddenly, a single note rang out in the silent room. Isolde jumped up in excitement. The sound was lower and fuller than that of the piccolo, but had the same girth. This was far superior to any recorder! If only she could have someone produce a larger flute, a new piccolo, and perhaps even a third flute, she could more than rebuild her recorder collection! If it wasn't hidden somewhere in Vögelsterben, that is. Isolde was excitedly experimenting with different combinations of levers when she heard a knock at the door.

It had taken five loaves of bread, but Honkers was finally happy. The ancient armor seemed to be at least partially intelligent, it was the only way she could explain how it could communicate for Honkers. Strangely, it seemed like Honkers himself had turned it off after only a few moments. Perhaps it was as weird for him as it was for everyone else. Lorelei had heard about such artifacts but had never seen one in person before. She turned back to see Neiren napping on the floor, small as a golden retriever.

"Wait, weren't you bigger about an hour ago?" Lorelei asked.

"Dragons can alter their size depending on their mood," Neiren said, not opening their eyes. "It's a thing we do and definitely not a way of covering up continuity errors by lazy authors."

"Covering what now?"

"Don't worry about it. Don't you have to be going now?"

"Oh, right," Lorelei said, looking down at the broom in her hands. She secured her hat to her head with some string before turning to Honkers.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"HONK!" Honkers said in agreement. Lorelei mounted her broom and jumped and came right back down. She tried again, but nothing happened. She looked down at the broom frustrated. Neiren lazily opened an eye.

"You have to say the magic words," Neiren said teasingly, before closing their eye again.

"What are the magic words?" Lorelei asked.

"You have to say ‘Julie Andrews’, for it to work," Neiren said.

"Julie ANDRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWSS!" Lorelei had barely said the words when the broom accelerated to full speed, sending her hundreds of feet into the air in seconds. She clung on for dear life as the ground sank rapidly beneath her. She swung her leg over the broom, only for it to immediately drop. The ground now came up alarmingly fast. As they fell, Lorelei heard the words of her mother come from her memory.

”Focus… pick out the magic in the item and let it become a part of you.” Lorelei closed her eyes and cleared her mind, not an easy thing to do, and felt the magic flowing from the broom, before attenuating herself to that magic. She willed the broom to pull up and it complied, flying alarmingly fast at rooftop level over a busy market. Lorelei climbed again, this time in a controlled manner and rose up above the market. Some people were shaking their fists at her, but no one was harmed. Lorelei shook from the adrenaline, before she heard a loud HONK behind her that made her jump in her seat. Honkers was flying up to her, apparently the armor had some method of propulsion as well.

"Sorry! I didn't expect it to be so feisty," Lorelei said quickly. Honkers honked in annoyance. Lorelei reached down into her satchel and pulled out a map. She looked at the map, then compared it with the city streets far below.

"If we follow that road North," she said pointing at one of the larger thorough-fares., "It should take us to Gor Lobos." Lorelei put the map back into its pouch and Honkers flew ahead. Lorelei followed behind, glad to have some time to catch her breath. She didn’t want to think how close she had come to the ground. Within a few minutes, they were outside of the city and were flying over farmlands. Different colored fields passed beneath them, but no one seemed to notice her, which she was glad for.

Looking down at the road, Lorelei could see them passing over wagons. They weren’t going that much faster than the horses trotting below, which made Lorelei estimate that they were going along at 13 to 14 miles per hour. A horse could go faster at a canter and certainly at a gallop, but only for a short time. Then the horse would have to rest. However, the condition of the road, changes in elevation, and the danger of banditry didn't seem to apply to someone riding on a broom one thousand feet above the road.

But more than that, the view was incredible. Large clouds floated lazily above her and from her elevation she could see miles in every direction. She passed hours in this manner and gradually the plains and farmland gave way to more wooded foothills. Eventually though, Lorelei felt the call of nature. If she were Honkers, some merchant would have had a nasty surprise, instead Lorelei looked for a tavern with an outhouse and spotted one. She spotted a meadow nearby and quietly landed nearby. She left the broom with Honkers before walking in a calm yet determined manner towards the outhouse.

She had barely opened the door when a voice cried out:

“Help! Please help me!” The voice was male and young, Lorelei was surprised to hear the sound coming from within the cess pit. She looked down and saw a boy covered in muck. Lorelei retched as the smell and sight of the boy turned her stomach, and what happened next was not big on dignity for either of them.

Joana paced around the room with her hands behind her back. The room was well furnished with small plush couches, a round coffee table made of mahogany, and a large embroidered carpet. Joana had been interviewing potential handmaids all morning with no luck. All either didn't like the new queen or had almost no interest in the job whatsoever. Joana began to feel hopeless. Her deadline was that very afternoon and she had absolutely nothing to present to Isolde. Joana decided to take a break from interviewing candidates to visit Florian, who had been writing a list of all the current aristocrats who would have to acknowledge Isolde to properly crown her queen.

The room Joana was currently in was the castle lounge on the first floor. Florian's study, which he had been given to use, was in a turret, four floors above her. As she hurried into a wide hall, she glanced at the hand-painted portraits and flowers. She wondered briefly who had chosen such pieces for the castle. Joana returned her attention to where she was walking and passed a table with a beautiful blue vase, a small pot with a thriving green plant, and a suit of armor with a sword. She turned and took the stairs up to the second floor. She passed many more paintings, tables, vases, plants, and suits of armor. On the third floor there was a change. The wallpaper was different and the suits of armor were made of gold. Joana walked to the stairs which lead to one of the many towers on the castle. As she made her way up the stairs, she wondered who could be a good handmaid for Isolde. Joana reached the door at the top and knocked softly.

Florian's voice came from inside the room, "Come in!"

As Joana opened the door, she called out, "How is that list coming along, Florian?"

Florian paced around the room in a frenzy of activity, pulling books from shelves, flipping through them, placing them in piles, writing names and palaces on a scroll. He looked up towards the door and smiled warmly at Joana. "Good afternoon! The list is almost complete. I need a few more palace names before I can present the list to Isolde and the council. If everything comes together well, Isolde will be crowned before next month. How is finding a new handmaid?"

Joana sighed and wrung her hands. "I am having trouble finding someone actually interested in being a handmaid. They only want money or... something."

Florian stopped pacing and gave her an apologetic look. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unless you can magically bring back Isolde's old handmaid, I don't think so. Thank you anyways."

There aren’t many ways to create a worse first impression than to be covered in feces, but Lorelei felt that vomiting on the boy probably wasn’t much of an improvement in this respect.

“Sorry,” Lorelei said after she had finished vomiting. “I’ll get a rope. The boy was crying, understandable under the circumstances. Lorelei got a rope, secured it to the end of a tree, then tossed the line down to the boy, before helping haul him out.

“Thank you miss,” he said sniffing, before his nose wrinkled at what he smelled like.

“Wait a moment. Where do you think you are going?”

“To change?” he said weakly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you enter your house in your condition, your mother will think she was under attack by a creature and murder you. Follow me and I will help you clean up,” she ordered. The boy was in a pitiable state and Lorelei felt more than a little guilty about her contribution to his condition. She was pleased to see that the boy made no argument.

“Sit there,” Lorelei said, pointing at a large rock. The boy sat and Lorelei handed him a bar of soap. Then, standing behind him, she cast a spell to create water and water poured out of her hands onto his head.

“Wash!” Lorelei commanded. The boy started scrubbing himself and the water ran brown. Gradually, black hair started to appear from under the fecal covering.

“Why were you in the outhouse?” Lorelei asked.

“A bunch of bigger kids grabbed me and threw me into it,” the boy said. Lorelei had spent enough time around children to know that this wasn’t likely to be the whole story.

“Why did they do that?” Lorelei asked gently.

“I don’t know, they just did it,” he said evasively.

“What were you doing before they grabbed you?” Lorelei said, probing with questions.

“Oh, I was just singing,” the boy continued, scrubbing vigorously.

“You must have quite a good singing voice. What were you singing?”

“A song.”

“What was it about?” Lorelei asked.

“I was singing about how ugly and dumb they were,” the boy said.

“Ah, that would do it. Do you think that this is why they tossed you into the outhouse?” Lorelei asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” the boy said.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Um… don’t insult people that are bigger than me?”

“Not quite,” Lorelei said. “You also shouldn’t insult people that are smaller than you.” Lorelei looked over to see Honkers approaching.

“Do you see that goose?”

“The one wearing the evil looking armor?” the boy said, his eyes widened in fear as Honkers waddled over, broom in beak.

“Yes, that’s the one. He’s quite a bit smaller than you isn’t he?” Lorelei said.

“Well, yes, obviously…” the boy said nervously.

“But I bet you don’t want to mess with that goose either,” Lorelei said humorously.

“That’s because I want to live,” the boy gulped. Lorelei laughed.

“Now there’s a smart lad. Now, let’s have a look at you,” Lorelei lowered her hands and examined the boy. “Looks like the feces are gone, although those clothes you’re wearing are probably a lost cause. Keep the soap bar, you’re going to have to wash again, but at least now you’re fit to enter a house without leaving a mess. Now, where is your mother?”

“DEREK!” a woman’s voice called out.

“COMING MOM!” Derek responded. A serving woman rounded the corner, saw Derek, then froze when she saw Lorelei and Honkers.

“Derek, go home right away,” the woman whispered.

“But Mom!”

“Go now, no arguing,” she said warningly. Derek hesitated for a moment, but then he left, leaving her with Lorelei and Honkers. The two sides regarded one another for a moment. Derek’s mother was in her mid-twenties, and had the hard look of a veteran of the customer service industry. She appraised Lorelei almost instantly and Lorelei felt that nothing had escaped her notice.

“You must be Derek’s mother,” Lorelei said. “My name is Lorelei, and this is Honkers. We found Derek in the outhouse cess pit and fished him out.”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” the woman said.

“What of it?” Lorelei asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you cast a spell on my son?” she asked directly.

“No,” Lorelei said, matching her directness. “I only used magic to create some water to help clean off the muck. But given how badly he smells, I bet you wish I had used something stronger.” The serving woman's demeanor relaxed at the response.

“Did he say how he ended up there?” the serving woman asked.

“Something about some bigger kids tossing him in after he started insulting them with a song,” Lorelei said.

“His father always had a way with words,” the serving woman said. “Then he wrote a song making fun of King Reginald and shortly afterwards he disappeared. I suppose we’re just lucky that we didn’t disappear along with him.”

“King Reginald has gone into hiding himself,” Lorelei said. “Queen Isolde now rules in Gor Nathal.”

“Never heard of her and I haven’t heard of you either,” she said. “As for me, I am Schmerple,” she said, nodding at them both. “Forgive me for my manners, but these are dangerous times. There are plenty of strange folk moving around,” she said, her eyes lingering on Honkers and Lorelei.

“It’s getting late. Honkers and I should get going,” she said.

“The roads are too dangerous for you to go on,” Schmerple said. “And I haven’t had an opportunity to thank you for what you did for Derek. Why don’t you rest the night here and let me arrange some accommodations for you?” Lorelei looked at Honkers, who just honked once in response.

“Very well,” Lorelei responded, picking up her broom from Honkers. "Lead on."

Isolde tiptoed to the door and cautiously opened it. She could see no one in the flickering candlelight of the hall, but nevertheless, she could feel that someone was present.

"Reveal yourself," she ordered in an authoritative tone.

"You are Isolde Agema of Vögelsterben, are you not?"

The stranger was good, Isolde thought to herself. She could not ascertain the origin or gender of the voice, and it had clearly performed its research.

"I am," she replied. "And you are?"

"Your debt must be repaid."

Isolde groaned to herself. Of course it had caught up to her, even after three hundred years dead in an iceberg. They never truly forgot. Human or not, the mind could only retain so much information. The details would surely have been forgotten. But the substance, now that could be retained indefinitely.

"Come in," she said.

The fey stepped out of the shadows and followed Isolde inside. She was tall and slender, to the extent that, if she were human, she could be described as gaunt. Her shoulders almost made right angles, and her long neck gave way to a sharp chin. Isolde stared at that area, refusing to look up into the fey's eyes.

"Lady Sens, you honour me," she began. "I have naught to offer you by the way of refreshments, however—"

The fey reached into her cloak and held up what appeared to be a peach.

"Your debt—"

"No, no, I can't pay now! I have a kingdom to rule!"

"Your kingdom would suffice."

Isolde's mind was racing in desperation to find an outlet, and she latched on to one fact.

"I can't hand it over! It's not mine!" She could feel Lady Sens' gaze on her. "I am neither the rightful heir, nor have I defeated the king in sacred duel. I am simply steward in his absence!"

Cold fingers gripped her chin and raised Isolde's face to meet the fey's eyes. They burned a hole into your soul, those clear blue irises like pools of water. Internally Isolde was squirming, but in reality she was frozen in fear.

"I will set a watcher over you. The debt will be repaid."

IT.

WASN'T.

FAIR.

Lorelei was being decked out like a real honest-to-goodness witch with a pointy hat and everything. Lee was having fun -- or as much fun as Lee could ever have, considering his usual dour stance on everything – playing war. Florian was happy playing uppity nobleman and dealing with people – especially that one girl he kept making puppy eyes at. And Isolde was a queen! Even Honkers – that crazy goose – was outfitted in an armor that looked… strangely familiar, though Vanessa couldn’t figure out where she had seen such an appearance, or even if it was a mere dream.

And then there was Vanessa. Doing paperwork.

But not just paperwork! If she were left alone to do paperwork, perhaps that would be a calming experience. After all, there was a certain peace to the shuffling of papers. There was no violence or conflict. All she had to do was read, file, and record. Vanessa was already no stranger to recording things – working as a healer, that was a huge part of what she did – recording the treatments that she and the other healers did on their patients to take care of them.

But this? This was horrible. On one hand, nobody wanted to do something as boring as supply lines. On the other hand, everyone had opinions that they all needed to share about how Vanessa needed to do her job. And all of those opinions contradicted each other.

Worse, King Reginald’s former economic minister Jeeves was there, wringing his hands and whining while Vanessa trudged through paperwork. It wasn’t as though this economic advisor had any loyalty to King Reginald – he didn’t care who was in charge. He only wanted to keep his system in place.

And so, Jeeves kept looking over Vanessa’s shoulder and remarking on every little point to the point that Vanessa couldn't help but feel frustrated. Nor was Jeeves helpful. Whenever she asked about supply lines, hoping for a simple, brief answer, Jeeves would respond with a nebulous answer that delved deep into economic theory.

“Remember!” Jeeves barked out as she sorted through lengthy papers of what composed of the GDP – an acronym that meant, as she found out as she waded through acronyms, gross domestic product. “I based inventory on the DEWEY SYSTEM, so that it would be easier to categorize everything. My notes are in these binders,” he said, gesturing to a stack of thick bones. Vanessa counted them – there were fifteen binders which were veritable tomes.

Vanessa stared at the binders. “How am I supposed to sort through all of this?” she demanded.

“You use the index, of course,” Jeeves said dryly, placing an even larger binder in her arms.

“Thank you?” Vanessa said, wincing under the weight of the binder. With a grunt, she brought the binder to a table, flipping through the pages and feeling lost.

“Remember! The indexing system is based after the Dewey System!” Jeeves said unhelpfully, standing so close behind her shoulder that she guessed he could smell her hair. The thought made her uncomfortable.

“What could Toiledra possibly have to warrant all of this?” Vanessa blurted out without thinking.

Jeeves gave her a withering look. “You're not serious, are you?” Then, when Vanessa bit her tongue, he sighed and shook his head dramatically. “Imagine! Being a conqueror without any intention of taking advantage of the conquered land’s goods and services! What are they teaching kids these days? Next thing you'll tell me is that you are Toiledra's new economic minister without having any special knowledge of either micro or macro economics.”

“Er…” Vanessa began, blushing.

Jeeves looked scandalized. “At least tell me that you have a basic modicum of knowledge of finance!”

“Not really,” Vanessa admitted.

Jeeves paled. “Personal finance?” he offered. “Maybe you're very rich and that's why the new queen offered you the position, seeing as she hoped you might continue your streak of wealth when you turned your attention to running an entire country.”

Vanessa thought about how little she had before and shrugged helplessly. “Sorry.”

Jeeves swore under his breath. “Despotism!” he muttered. “Why does it always have to be despotism?”

Vanessa pretended to not hear the comment. Instead, she looked around for a distraction – and was pleased to spot Boba hopping toward her. “Hi, Boba!” she said.

“Hello, Economic Minister!” Boba said cheerfully, eying the binder that Vanessa was looking at with interest. “It looks like you're having fun!”

Vanessa grimaced. “Yes, lots of fun.” She gestured to Jeeves, who glared at Boba for interrupting them. “Jeeves was just showing me his writings,” she said, trying her best to fake enthusiasm for the subject. “Apparently, he wrote the entire Economic policy for Toiledra.”

“You're the author for the economic theory behind Toiledra?” Boba said enthusiastically, jumping on his hind legs and wiggling his nose. “Wow!”

Vanessa blinked. Boba's enthusiasm was clearly not feigned, which both shocked and annoyed her. But her reaction was nothing compared to Jeeves, who visibly flinched.

“Have you… read it?” Jeeves asked hesitantly.

“Of course!” Boba said enthusiastically. “Mind you, I'm no scholar of your work… I've only read all your work four times or so, which is hardly enough to claim anything other than a partial study, I'm afraid. But still, I'm impressed by what I've read. Honestly, I've often thought that Toiledra's success could be attributed to its strong economic policy. After all, King Reginald was not necessarily an inspiring figurehead. However, the economic foundation kept it as steady and as strong as it was. A fine achievement! And now I meet the architect behind such a policy? It is very good to meet you!”

As Boba said these words, he stuck out his paw to shake Jeeves's hand. Jeeves took the paw and shook it, a smile slithering on his face like a cold snake waking up with sunshine.

“So… you've read it?” Jeeves asked, as if he were afraid that he was about to wake up from the most glorious dream that he ever had in his entire existence. By the strange look on his face, it was clear that he had never heard anyone say anything so complimentary before, and the mere shock of being complimented stunned him into a stupid silence, even as his grin slid onto his face.

“Of course,” Boba assured him. “It is such an engrossing read in every respect. I couldn't put it down!”

Vanessa stared at Boba, trying to gauge whether or not he was joking about the writing being interesting. Everything in his demeanor, from his vibrating whiskers to his twitching paws, seemed to indicate that he was genuinely excited. Which didn't make sense to Vanessa. She glanced at the binders stuffed full of thin parchment and then back at Boba with incredulity.

Jeeves’s grin grew wider as Boba spoke. He puffed up his chest and coughed importantly. “Well, you aren't wrong,” he said lazily. “I would never say this, of course, but sometimes I've wondered what would have happened if perhaps King Reginald’s and my positions had been reversed. You know?”

“I understand completely!” Boba said earnestly. “Were it not for the economic policies that you implemented, his kingdom would have fallen almost immediately after he established his reign!”

Jeeves looked, if possible, even more excited. “What was your favorite section?” he asked, his eyes positively glowing.

“Hmm,” Boba said, twitching his ears thoughtfully. “It's hard to pick. But if I had to pick, I would probably choose that section where you talk about the invisible hand. In fact, that invisible hand discourse that you alluded to in section 6.7.3 from book four is what inspired me to start up the mining union.”

Jeeves froze. “Wait. Are you the Boba Bojangles? The one who made all that fuss at the mines and started the union which almost ushered in economic collapse and utter anarchy?”

“The very same!” Boba replied with a chuckle. He flipped back his ears and did a little dance.

The transformation of Jeeves's face was as dramatic as it was sudden. One moment, he looked ecstatic, the next it looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

“I should have prefaced that, while I enjoyed your works, I generally take a strong stance against slavery, even if it's of the economic tilt and therefore more socially acceptable,” Boba said cheerfully.

“I see,” Jeeves said sourly.

Vanessa couldn't help herself – she giggled. Both Boba and Jeeves turned to her, Jeeves looking annoyed and Boba looking just as calm as ever.

“Anyway, that's not why I'm here,” Boba said, nodding to Jeeves. “I came to ask you if you could make a full report on how you cooked the books to make it appear that King Reginald’s realm when it appears that King Reginald was actually teetering on the blink of bankruptcy, despite your solid economic theory – which I assure you is as captivating as ever.”

Jeeves turned white.

“Now, I'm no stranger to auditing,” Boba continued calmly. “But I'm not a huge fan of fantasy. So, if you could, I would like to see the reports – the real reports, mind you, not the fictional ones that you've been peddling – and look through those so I can give the new economic minister proper reports.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “I take it such a diligent person as yourself would not throw away the true documents?”

Jeeves swallowed nervously. “I think I can manage to find the documents somewhere,” he said thinly.

Boba glowered at him. “Then find them!”

Jeeves nodded and hurried away.

Vanessa stared at Jeeves's skulking form retreating. “That was amazing,” she said after he left.

Boba laughed. “It's all a matter of delegation! That's what a good leader does. That way, you free yourself up for other tasks that are more important.”

Vanessa thought of Lee popping in to ask for help not too long ago and began to giggle. “Right. I have to delegate.” Then she looked at Boba and frowned. “What sort of tasks am I freeing myself up for?”

“Glad you asked!” Boba said enthusiastically. “You need to free yourself up so you can go to meetings!”

Vanessa groaned.

“Oh, it's not so bad,” Boba said, wiggling his nose. “Now, let's go see Cassandra!”

“Cassandra?” Vanessa asked hesitantly.

Boba nodded. “She's a seer with a message about potential logistics issues that she would like to discuss with you, the new commerce minister.”

Vanessa groaned again. “This sounds insufferably boring.”

“Hopefully it will be very boring,” Boba said, laughing. “It would be a terrible thing if her news was very interesting!”

Isolde awoke late the next morning, after the sun had risen.

"No, I'm late!" She quickly sat up and stepped out of bed, only to fall to the floor and clutch her throbbing head. Darn those fey! Nothing good ever came out of dealing with them.

"Your tea, ma'am," she heard someone say. Not more strange voices! She looked up to see two ladies in pink dresses swaying back and forth.

"Let me help you up," the ladies continued, setting the tea on her bedstand. They reached out two hands, which became one as it grasped Isolde's and pulled her up.

"Who are you?" Isolde asked as her vision cleared. The girl was about fourteen, with one thick, black braid laying over her right shoulder. Her dress was high cut but sleeveless, with a short cape thrown back to reveal the shoulders. The skirt was full, composed of layers too numerous to count.

"I'm Mahthilt, your watcher," she said. Isolde looked over Mahthilt more closely. She clearly wasn't fey, although Isolde wouldn't vouch for her humanity. Not yet. "Lady Joana also cleared me to be your handmaiden."

Oh dear. Joana couldn't have known that the girl was... Employed by the fey? Isolde would get to the bottom of it soon enough. In the meantime, she had a contract to find. First, however, there was the matter of tea. Isolde cautiously sniffed the drink, then dipped her finger in. It was white tea, neither poisoned nor of fey origin. How nice. She drank it eagerly. Why had she gotten rid of Adeline? Now she was saddled with an even more dangerous handmaid!



Isolde stepped out of the castle, careful to step surely but not to swagger. She was dressed in common clothes and a good pair of walking boots. None of the people in the city would recognise her; at most any given citizen would have seen her once or twice. She was much more concerned about her minder. As far as she knew, Mahthilt was tidying up her chambers, but she couldn't be certain. Regardless, she had to concentrate. Now, where in Gor Nathal could she find an assassin?

In the past, they would have been concentrated in Tabor. But as she made her way to that district, she found nothing but seamstresses, textiles, and tailors. In the window of one shop was displayed a pair of magnificent slippers that were almost perfectly clear, like they were made of glass themselves. Isolde shook her head and continued on. She didn't have the gold for them, in addition, they likely were not comfortable in any sense of the word. She headed west, scrutinising every sign and poster.

After some hours, she saw it. The sign displayed a painted clock, signifying an ordinary clockmaker. But on the dial was a tiny diamond, with one line running completely through from the upper right and a shorter, perpendicular line crossing it. Isolde smiled. Thank goodness for tradition, otherwise she never would have found it. She stepped inside the shop and looked around.

Angled shelving cases bore pocket watches, while between them stood tall grandfather clocks. The time, according to all of them, was just shy of a quarter to two. Good, she had plenty of time. A counter was opposite her, with no one standing behind it. A bell hung by it, but Isolde ignored it for the time being and made a show of examining the clocks. The pocket watches were fascinating. She would have to commission one for herself. When the kingdom's finances improved, of course. She really ought to check in on Vanessa.