[RPG] [FEI] Saddle the pony and pack the thumbscrews!

[Samuel Knowlton]

Lady Sabrina smiled amusedly.

Galiard had just finished yet another round of dreary legal anecdotes, and 
the Lady Sabrina had tolerated them this long largely because she was 
waiting for dessert.

"So," interrupted Sabrina before Galiard could pontificate on this, that, or 
the other clause of something, "what /is/ for dessert, anyway?"

"Bundt cake," announced Duke Galiard, who waved the chef with the cake in.

Sabrina looked at the Grand Justiciar levelly.

"I hope," she said, politely but neutrally, "that you are not expecting that 
I will retire with you to the Ducal bedchamber based on a bundt cake."

Galiard unsuccessfuly tried to hide a crestfallen look.

"It's a very good bundt cake," he suggested, hopefully.

"So," said Sabrina, "am I."

Galiard made a mental note to fire not only his pastry chef, but also Dodd, 
who had suggested -- seriously, Galiard thought -- the idea to impress the 
lady. Dodd was, no doubt, laughing his head off at the other end of the 
castle.

There was a loud twang sound from the doorway, and then a *thwack*.

One of Galiard's attendants pitched forward into the room, an arrow 
protruding from his back. A small bit of parchment was attached to the 
arrow.

"Message for you, sir," said the attendant, who promptly collapsed in a 
heap.

Galiard rose, walked over to the unconscious attendant, and detached the 
message.

"ATTENTION ADMINISTRATION OF OSSAET," he read aloud.

"This OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM is to INFORM YOU of a RIGHT PROPER CHANGE of 
authority. As of THIS MOMENT, OSSAET is not OSSAET but ACTUALLY COLASAN, no 
matter what GALIARD SAYS ABOUT IT." Galiard kept reading.

"Therefore: all those who were GUARDING shall now be GUARDED; all those who 
were GUARDED shall now GUARD; all those who were RULING shall now BE RULED; 
all those who were IN CHARGE are now IN TROUBLE."

Galiard went white as a sheet.

He gestured to Sabrina to depart, and then Percy burst in. He was decked out 
in some type of bizarre, pre-camoflouge camoflouge, which is to say he 
looked vaguely like an audience chamber.

"Percy?" Galiard frowned. "The Very Special Special Forces officer-turned- 
gaoler?"

"That's right!" Percy exclaimed brightly. "Sorry to bother you," he scuffed 
his feet and produced a crossbow, leveling it at Galiard. "But you're under 
arrest, boss!"

"On whose authority?!" Galiard demanded.

"Prime Minister Doyle, sah," said Percy.

"Under whose laws?!"

"Grand Justiciar Doyle, sah," said Percy.

"Him and what army?!?"

"That would Minister of Defense Doyle's, sah," said Percy.

"How did Doyle get an army?!?"

"I expect Minister of Finance Doyle bought it for him," said Percy.

"Am I the only one here who thinks this is a little ridiculous?" Galiard 
scowled.

"Not in the least, sah!" Percy said brightly. "But OFFICIAL MEMORANDUMS 
don't lie. So if you'll just come with--OOF."

Percy had an unfortunate collision with a flying bundt cake, tilted 
dangerously to one side, and fell right on top of the dead attendant.

"Nice shot," Galiard said appreciatively.

"I'm still not sleeping with you," replied Sabrina, wiping bundt cake crumbs 
from her sleeve.

"My idea of a successful evening just got demoted to 'making it out of here 
alive', so let's to it," said Galiard, making for the dungeon door.

"What's in the dungeons?" Sabrina frowned.

"Dodd!" Galiard exclaimed. "I can't well leave him here."

Shaking her head, Sabrina followed Galiard down the dank stairwell.

-------

In the dark corridors of the Dungeon, Dodd was busily exchanging clothes 
with a particularly grumpy-looking prisoner.

"Fine pickle you've gotten us into this time, m'lud," said Dodd by way of 
greeting.

"What in the heavens' name are you doing?" Galiard demanded.

"Didn't you get the memo?" Dodd asked, waggling the memorandum in Galiard's 
face.

"Do you ever actually think before you follow orders?" Galiard yelled.

"If I started doing that, m'lud," Dodd replied defensively, "methinks I 
should've stopped working for you a long time ago."

"Who is this?" Galiard looked at the prisoner.

"Bors, m'lud," said the prisoner dejectedly, now half-dressed as a guard.

"And what is your problem?" Galiard asked.

"I was a guard before I was thrown in jail, m'lud," Bors complained. "I was 
jailed on account of taking bribes, seeing as being a guard is about the 
most boring, most underpaid job in the whole Duchy. But being a prisoner! 
Oh, the carousing! The late nights, the poker games, the watery soup! Oh, 
m'lud," Bors wiped a tear from his eye, "it don't get much better than that, 
let me tell you."

Galiard stared.

"And now," Bors sighed, exasperated, "I'm a guard again!"

"And Dodd is your prisoner?" Galiard asked.

"Well not technically, no," Bors answered after thinking it over. "I mean he 
wasn't really a guard before, so he can't really be a prisoner now. But if 
we had anybody being tortured before, well, Dodd might want to stay clear of 
THEM, if you get my drift."

"So we can take him?" Galiard demanded.

"Fine with me," Bors shrugged.

The three of them made for the stairs, but then Dodd quickly darted back 
down the passageway.

"DODD!" Galiard hollered.

"Moment, m'lud!" Dodd called back. Several seconds later, he re-appeared, 
out of breath, with a bag labeled THUMBSCREWS.

"Didn't want to leave them behind," explained Dodd.

----

The three of them made a beeline for the stables and rode off into the 
night, making for the road to Semon. Dodd looked back a few times; Galiard 
never did.