Sometimes, life in Realmgard is like a Fire Emblem and you just really, really need disguises. And, well, it’s like Sun Tzu said: “All [being an adventurer in Realmgard] is based on deception.”
So, here’s a couple pairs of fine, young and wily heroines infiltrating the enemy base.
Also, no, “waterlemons” is not a typo…
“They have the map. We need to get in there,” Lucia says.
“But I’m just a kid,” Alda protests. “What am I going to do?”
“Just follow my lead,” Lucia tells her.
Alda nods and follows Lucia up to the big, burly swordsman guarding the door of the mercenaries’ guildhall. He holds up a big, burly hand to stop them as they approach
“And who might you two be?” he asks. “I don’t recognise you. Which means you’re not members of the Sparkly Butterflies. Which means you two need to keep moving.”
“Your band of mercenaries is called the Sparkly Butterflies?” Lucia asks.
“It was the Captain’s daughter’s idea,” the guard mutters. “And, for the record, we happen to be the finest mercenaries operating out of Middlesbrooke, thank you very much.”
“I mean, yeah,” Lucia says, her brain barely able to keep up with her tongue. “Of course, the Sparkly Butterlies. Who hasn’t heard of the Sparkly Butterflies? And if you’re them, that means they’re you and that means we’ve been looking for you. And we’re right where we want to be.”
She glances down at Alda.
“Right, Alda?”
“Uh, yeah,” Alda says.
“I doubt that very much,” the guard says. “Sparkly Butterflies only.”
“What, the Captain didn’t tell you?” Lucia asks, desperately trying to formulate a backstory. “We’re here to, uh…”
“… Perform!” Alda offers. “You know, for the Captain’s…”
“… Birthday!” Lucia concludes.
“Hm. I thought that Captain’s birthday was in the fall,” the guard mutters. “Hmm. Maybe it’s one of those things that’s on a different day each year.”
He looks sceptically at Lucia at Alda.
“And just who are you two?”
“Oh, um,” Lucia stammers. “We’re the, uh…”
“Spectacular,” Alda offers.
“Selvario Sisters?” Lucia concludes.
“Sisters? You two are sisters? Really?” the guard asks.
“Yes,” Alda and Lucia answer simultaneously.
“We’re twins?” Lucia adds.
“Twins?” the guard repeats incredulously. “But you look nothing alike. And you’re not even the same age. And you’re a Wilderling!”
“No, no, no,” Alda interjects. “What she means is that we are twins, but we’re not twins with each other. Like, we each have our own twin. But neither of them are performers like we are.”
“I see,” the guard says. “But you are sisters?”
“She’s adopted,” Lucia and Alda say, each pointing to the other.
“So, let me get this straight,” the guard says. “You’re the Spectacular Selvario Sisters. You’re both adopted. And each have a twin who isn’t a Spectacular Selvario Sister.”
Lucia and Alda nod.
“And you’re here to perform for the boss’ birthday. Even though the boss’ birthday is on a different day than it was last year,” the guard continues. “Is that about right?”
“Yes?” Lucia replies uncertainly.
“Makes sense to me,” the guard says cheerfully, stepping aside from the door. “In you go.”
Lucia cannot believe that worked.
“Well,” she stammers as she recovers. “Thank you very much.”
“Wait,” the guard declares suddenly as they reach for the door. “Just one more thing. What, exactly, is your act?”
“Oh,” Alda says, exchanging a nervous glance with Lucia. “I, um, ride around on a unicycle playing the accordion…”
“While,” Lucia says, reaching for something, anything, to say, “I juggle waterlemons. On fire?”
“So are the waterlemons on fire, or are you?” the guard asks.
“Yes,” Lucia answers. “It’s a very particular skillset. Needs very specialised equipment. Took years of practice to master.”
“Wow,” the guard says. “That really does sound spectacular.”
“Right,” Kat says, going over the situation with Apolline. “Lena has the key to unlock Blackboots’ journal. And we know that the actual journal is inside Sigismund von Bücherhaus’ private library. Which means we have to figure out to get in there, get the journal, and get out.”
The Aurorean sorceress nods thoughtfully. “This sounds like that time Alda and Lucia had to bluff their way into a mercenary guildhall.”
“Yeah?” Kat asks. “How’d they manage that?”
“They pretended to be a circus act,” Apolline answers. “Something about putting on a show riding unicycles and juggling waterlemons on fire for the captain’s birthday.”
“I’m not pretending to be something so —” Kat falters and she stares at Apolline. “On fire? Wait. The waterlemons? Or them?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Kat continues once she regains her composure. “We’re definitely not doing that. But I think I can manage to bluff us inside. Right. Let’s go.”
In the brief walk to the gate of Sigismund von Bücherhaus’ large house, they decide that Apolline will pretend to be a Gallicantien-speaking foreign noblewoman — not exactly a stretch given that she actually is a noblewoman and that she speaks Gallicantien fluently thanks to it being one of Aurora’s Two Official Languages.
“Bonjour,” Apollline says in Gallicantien as they approach. “Pardonnez nous. C’est une ruse élaborée pour infiltrer votre bibliothèque.”
“Is Meister von Bücherhaus expecting you?” the guardswoman says, interposing herself between the gate and Kat and Apolline.
Kat dramatically throws her hands up in exasperation and heaves an overwrought sigh.
“Is he expecting us?” she repeats indignantly. “Lady, do you have any idea who this is?”
She frantically gestures towards Apolline.
“No?” the guardswoman answers.
“This,” Kat says, wishing she thought this far ahead. “This. Is the, uh, Marchioness de Martburton… Burton, uh, burton.”
Kat pauses for a moment to judge the guardswoman reaction. She seems more confused than anything.
“Yeah,” Kat continues. “And I’ll have you know that Mr. von Bücherhaus is expecting us, thank you very much. So, you’d better step aside and let us in, or you’re about to get Martburton-Burton’d… burton.”
“Wait,” the guardswoman says. “The Marchioness de Martburton-Burtonburton? The famous art historian?”
“…Yeah” Kat murmurs. “So, let us in, please?”
“Oh, Marchioness!” the guardswoman exclaims, surging forward to shake Apolline’s hand. “I’m your biggest fan! I loved your monogram about The Constancy of Styracosaurus.”
Kat clears her throat. “The Marchioness is a very busy woman,” she notes.
“Right,” the guardswoman says. She points to Apolline. “She’s the Marchioness de Martburton-Burtonburton, the famous art historian.”
She points to Kat.
“What does that make you?”
“Oh. I would happen to be, uh, the Marchioness de Martburton-Burton…burton,” Kat stammers, “…’s manservant.”
“Manservant?” the guardswoman asks. “But you’re a woman!”
“Don’t you start,” Kat says, once again feigning indignation. “Do you even know how hard it is for a woman to make it as a manservant? Do you know how many times a day I have to put up with people saying —”
She adopts an exaggerated whiny tone:
“— Manservant, but you’re a woman! I did not finish at the top of my class to put up with this.”
“The top of your class?” the guardswoman asks.
“Yeah,” Kat answers. “You know, at, Manserving School. It’s in, uh, Pelayo…”
Alda, Lucia, Kat, and Apolline are fine. They’re all fine here now, thank you.
Ahem.
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