1        Soul Bound 1.3      Making a Splash 1.3.3    An Unrequited Love 1.3.3.12 Misstry lovers

Bulgaria: "Looks like Pazzi paid more attention to those apprentices than we hoped. Several of the elders who left with Bungo have encountered check points, and there's a guild official with each squad carrying a list of names and descriptions. Tomsk, we need to get everyone compromised into the Scarrow parish and we'll have to abandon most of the routes this 'Raggedy Misstry' scouted for us. Luckily, we're not alone. There's a group of players from The Burrow, calling themselves the Chaldeans, who have logged in and are volunteering to help with relaying messages and keeping the composite map updated."

Quest Status Report "The road less travelled" Minutes left : 160 Initial total : 300 Current total : 270 Required total : 100 Current effective : 187 Current dependant : 83 Current other : 30 Total Alpha Beta Gamma Delta (All groups) (Elderly) (Scouts) (Workers) (Children) E D x E D x E D x E D x E D x 187 83 30 8 33 9 6 1 3 159 1 0 14 48 18 -2 -7 +9 -2 -7 +9

She twitched the curtain a little, leaving a small gap, then tried peering outside while continuing to stay calm enough to meditate. According to Wellington, if they did any magic of the sort that involved a sudden release of large quantities of mana, that would make it easier for Pazzi's mages to locate the Wombles, so hopefully that could be avoided. But, if it couldn't, she wanted to be ready. She visualised herself as a battery again, but this time in reverse, as one drawing upon the elements and patterns present in individual sources that she spotted while they wound through the backstreets of Gobwell. Cov from the communal links, Dro and Zer from occasional plants and animals, Mor from barrels in a tavern and Lun from the dry fitful gusts of air which tugged at the shutters now blocking every window.

They'd been nearly the last to leave, but despite the increasing number of patrols she began to relax as they approached Ozieri March without incident. On the other side of the major thoroughfare was a gap between buildings, more gutter than street, that led into the Scarrow and beyond the reach of any mounted guards. All they needed to do was avoid drawing attention while they waited for the patrol trotting down the March to pass far enough beyond the shady courtyard the Wombles were lurking in, that the Guards would be unable to prevent a crossing even if one turned their head at the wrong moment.

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Then an all too familiar sedan chair broke into the open from the next intersection down, directly in front of the patrol.

Guard: "Halt! Who authorised you to be out after curfew?"

Humble: "Begging your pardon, M'Lord, but guild regulations don't allow us to refuse passengers as can pay. Not our place to make a decision like that, M'Lord. Guildmaster says we're allowed to carry. Anytime and anywhere, M'Lord."

He produced a worn document from a pouch he'd strung around his next, and pointed to the signature at the bottom with much bowing and tugging at the fringe of his bowl-cut hair.

The guild official accompanying the patrol, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, spoke up.

Official: "Yes, yes, that's fine, all right and proper. But what about your passenger? Are they a Chartist sympathiser, or can they prove they are authorised to be out and about when Lord Pazzi has so wisely declared a temporary suspension of that privilege for the duration of the current crisis of Bel-inspired arsonists?"

The Humble looked even most apologetic. Kafana felt a movement, and realised Bulgaria was taking advantage of the distraction to get their own chair across.

Humble: "Passenger's a guild member, M'Lord. Messenger with an injured leg, being taken to the healers. Not my place to say, M'Lord, but I don't think he looks in any shape to be setting fires or protesting anything. Nice young lad, hasn't said a word."

The official started to leaf through his list of descriptions, while the guard demanded the chair be put down and opened for inspection, and Kafana knew Pierrot was only moments away from being revealed. Could she, Wellington, Tomsk and Bulgaria beat ten guards, without using magic and without making any noise? The guards were following the orders of their legally appointed superiors so Tomsk's sword would probably count them as innocents and refuse to freeze them. Farkakte!

A piercing whistle interrupted, drawing all eyes up to a figure posing on a nearby rooftop. No face was visible beneath the broad brimmed hat, little else could be seen because of the dark raggedy cloak that billowed so dramatically, but she was certain this wasn't the same Raggedy Man who'd saved them earlier at the barricades. The first clue was the ease with which the figure jumped across to the roof of a building on the other side Ozieri March, a distance of at least forty meters. The second clue was the canister it dropped mid jump, discarded with casual elegance like a noble discarding an unwanted visiting card. With pinpoint accuracy the canister hit the patrol leader on his helmet, releasing pink clouds of smoke that left the guards clutching at their eyes and screaming curses while the two Humbles gave each other a look, backed away and then, on not being ordered to stop, carefully carried their cargo around the milling horses and onwards into the Scarrow.

The figure tilted its hat towards them in salute, and then bounded away.

So that was the Raggedy Man's new partner in crime? The Raggedy Misstry who'd met Bulgaria and who'd been helping them? Nice to know. She flicked on her Truesight skill for a moment, now her meditation had restored her enough to risk using it.

And froze, her sight zooming in upon a bulge at the waist of the departing figure, its shape and mana patterns highlighted by her skill despite the cloak disguising it.

A bulge in the same location and exactly the same size as the one she'd seen under Alderney's clothing, caused by the presence of the protective metal sphere she'd crafted to protect a dragonette egg until it hatched.

Alderney, who'd been mysteriously absent so much recently, and whose artifact boots and 4D thinking skill would make it easy for her to leap around rooftops. Alderney, who had a love of pranks, of costumes and (to be honest) of manipulating others.

Alderney who'd said she could contact the Raggedy Man on behalf of the Wombles, and who'd stuffed her face with cake during the meeting in the ops room leaving her unable to directly answer questions about it while wearing Bulgaria's empathy halo.

Several emotions pierced Kafana like arrows, fast and sharp.

Surprise.

Gratitude.

Embarrassment and a bit of resentment at being fooled for so long.

Chiefly, though, the emotion filling her was outraged admiration. Alderney had pulled off her biggest ever prank, with Kafana (just like Pierrot) ending up the butt of the joke.

With friends like that? Pazzi didn't stand a chance.

She was a little surprised at her own calm reaction, and then felt a moment of triumph as she realised that despite all that, she'd managed to keep the meditation going.

[Skill "Meditation" has reached level 21.]

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