Wet Hot Kantasian Summer (21/8) - Igrainne
Aug 23, 2021 22:09:10 GMT
Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed, Ian, and 2 more like this
Post by Igrainne (RETIRED) on Aug 23, 2021 22:09:10 GMT
The sounds of clashing blades fill the air in the backyard of The Hung Rabbit Inn. Two dark elves, both wearing white linen shirts and black trousers and wielding rapiers, circle each other in front of the wooden spider statue. Their steps are in perfect sync and the movement of their limbs fluid and graceful. Sometimes, they appear to be dancing instead of sparring.
Even though it was nearing sundown, Jaezred had his goggles of day on to completely even the playing field. However, he was still no match for his nimbler cousin; the older drow was firmly on the backfoot as he struggled to sidestep and parry all her rapid strikes. Soon enough, the tip of Igrainne’s blade, the Giant’s Toothpick, pierced skin-deep into his chest, and he gave a cry.
Igrainne smirked victoriously as she plucked out her rapier, watching a small red spot bloom on Jaezred’s shirt. “Now do you wish you’d listened to me about wearing protective gear?”
“Nonsense. Drow fencers always live on the edge. This is how they practice in Menzoberranzan,” he retorted, pulling the goggles off his head. “Now quit being smug and heal me.”
One healing word later, the pair retired to the bench. Dhauzith had left two mugs of apple juice for them there and Jaezred used prestidigitation to cool the drinks down, which was very useful in this blazing summer heat. Igrainne had plaited her hair into a single braid, and that still hadn’t done much to abate the sweat pouring down her face and neck all day. She sighed in appreciation as the cold, sweet liquid went down her throat and leaned against the wall.
“Did you really go to the beach in this weather? It must have been hell for your eyes,” Jaezred said.
“Oh, we actually didn’t make it to Port Ffirst. Ran into, uh...complications along the way.”
He raised a quizzical brow. “What do you mean? Is your ‘friend from out of town’ still living yet?”
“Er…yeees?” Igrainne scratched her face awkwardly. Her lord cousin was staring directly at her, and she realised that she needed to tell the truth now — he’d hear parts of the story sooner or later, anyway. “Okay, don’t freak out, but she’s actually a succubus.”
“...I beg your pardon.”
“It’s not what you think! Remember the Avernus invasion of K’ul Goran last year? Long story short, we turned this succubus into a badger and kidnapped her and made it look like a devil from Avernus took her. That tricked her demon lord into attacking Zariel’s forces, but...once that blew over, he thought Amaunet had betrayed him, and so she had nowhere to go.” She paused. “I ran into her again in a lady’s house in Sigil. She is, um, working as a maidservant. I felt really bad for her! So I said, ‘Why don’t I take you on holiday in the Dawnlands to make it up to you?’”
“And you concealed this fact from me, because…?”
“Because I know you’d assume the worst! See, you’re already looking at me as if I did something wrong.” She pointed a finger in his face, which only served to deepen his frown. “I swear to the Goddess, nothing happened. I was too busy trying to keep her out of trouble to do anything, anyway. Even the guys I hired to bodyguard her didn’t lay a finger on her. Well, Ivan really wanted to, but he managed to restrain himself in the end, after I told him that she looked really shitty as a badger. The other guys, Carnán and Glint, were on perfect behaviour.”
“Trouble? What exactly did she do?”
Igrainne hesitated. “Ummm...well first, she wanted me to help her shoplift from The Heights of Fashion. Like, it was a lot of clothes. I said no, I was going to pay for everything anyway, and she relented. Or I thought she did, because she sneakily grabbed a scarf on our way out. Luckily, Carnán spotted that and we put it back. To be honest though, those clothes ended up costing me a hundred plats, so maybe stealing wasn’t such a bad idea. I mean, is that sort of price normal with fancy clothes?”
“Well, Mavis Thovian specialises in haute couture, so no, nothing about The Height of Fashion is — in any sense of the word — standard,” replied Jaezred, a little wide-eyed after hearing about that price tag. “However, if you were buying a lot of pieces, then it isn’t terribly surprising either.”
“She tried to pull some shit at The Four Fair Winds too. She ordered, like, a ton of seafood and barely touched them. I asked why, and she said she doesn’t even like seafood. Then she plucked a strand of her own hair and put it on the food, and made a fuss about it by pretending it was the chef’s. All that just for a free dessert!” The half-drow sighed as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “Don’t worry, I paid for everything in the end…”
At that, the judgemental expression on Jaezred’s face melted into something softer, and he chuckled. “Oh, so that was your friend. The staff of the Winds were not very happy about it. But it sounds like you dodged trouble in Daring Heights, so what prevented you from reaching Port Ffirst?”
“We were staying overnight at Fort Ettin, the whole party in one room so we could all guard Amaunet. We took watches and pretty much everyone noticed an illusion set up outside the window. Amaunet started freaking out a little, she was hugging me and crying and stuff.” Igrainne looked contemplative for a moment. “I didn’t know demons were capable of being that emotional, to be honest. It sounds silly, saying it out loud now, because of course demons can feel basic emotions, right? Anyway, turns out she was right to panic, because her ex-demon lord Bal’tazz’narr did just come to the Material Plane to kill her himself.”
“Oh. I suppose that would be enough to prematurely end your trip.”
“Heh! Yeah. We booked it out of there, just ran for the Angelbark Portal with a massive demon lord chasing us. Made it by the skin of our teeth. He wrecked huge parts of the forest, the sour bastard. Hate that guy. One day, I’m gonna go to the Abyss and beat him up.”
Jaezred just sighed and sipped from his mug.
“You know, despite the arsehole demon ruining half our plans, Amaunet was pretty happy in the end. She still got her new clothes and a day off. She doesn’t hate me for ruining her life anymore. Oh, and she gave me this.”
Igrainne took out a small metal brooch from her pocket — a little pink heart with an arrow pierced through it. As her fingers touched it, she felt the pulse of a heartbeat from the warm steel, and an image of Amaunet’s chest rising and falling flashed through her mind. A blush rapidly spread across her cheeks. It was almost enough to make her forget that Jaezred was right in front of her, both eyebrows currently shooting up his forehead.
He fixed his young cousin with a discerning gaze, mouth set to a hard line. “Do you like her, this Amaunet?” he asked.
Once the surprise at the point-blank question had worn off, Igrainne shrugged. “Bit pointless to ask that, isn’t it?” she answered with a smile as she pinned the brooch over her left breast. “She’s a succubus. And if that doesn’t kill me, Mum will. And Goddess knows you would throw a fit, too.”
“Indeed, you would have gotten an earful of lectures,” he muttered.
“There you go again, sounding like an old man.” She nudged him lightly in the ribs. “What are you, my grandfather or something?”
He narrowed his eyes on her. Igrainne thought that was the end of it, and could not have anticipated his arm pulling her into a soft headlock and his free hand messing up her hair whilst she was trapped and helpless. She cried out in protest and eventually pried herself from his grasp with a head full of clumped-up hair.
“I’ll get you back for that!” Despite her words, she was grinning from ear to ear, pleasantly surprised by his sudden playfulness. She had never even seen him be jovial. Jaezred, horsing around? It was almost unthinkable.
After his laughter subsided, he looked at her with an uncertain expression. “Listen, I…”
There was a long pause as he appeared to be hesitating. But before she could ask what was wrong, he spoke up again. “Do you know where Lucan’s Leathers is? I’m supposed to meet up with that boy, Toothy.”
“Oh,” she said, and lifted an arm to point west. “If you go back into the city on the Swamp Road, turn right just before Brook Street. It’s there in a little nook on Costoso Street. Funny, I thought you were about to say something completely different!”
“Right,” was all he replied with.
Even though it was nearing sundown, Jaezred had his goggles of day on to completely even the playing field. However, he was still no match for his nimbler cousin; the older drow was firmly on the backfoot as he struggled to sidestep and parry all her rapid strikes. Soon enough, the tip of Igrainne’s blade, the Giant’s Toothpick, pierced skin-deep into his chest, and he gave a cry.
Igrainne smirked victoriously as she plucked out her rapier, watching a small red spot bloom on Jaezred’s shirt. “Now do you wish you’d listened to me about wearing protective gear?”
“Nonsense. Drow fencers always live on the edge. This is how they practice in Menzoberranzan,” he retorted, pulling the goggles off his head. “Now quit being smug and heal me.”
One healing word later, the pair retired to the bench. Dhauzith had left two mugs of apple juice for them there and Jaezred used prestidigitation to cool the drinks down, which was very useful in this blazing summer heat. Igrainne had plaited her hair into a single braid, and that still hadn’t done much to abate the sweat pouring down her face and neck all day. She sighed in appreciation as the cold, sweet liquid went down her throat and leaned against the wall.
“Did you really go to the beach in this weather? It must have been hell for your eyes,” Jaezred said.
“Oh, we actually didn’t make it to Port Ffirst. Ran into, uh...complications along the way.”
He raised a quizzical brow. “What do you mean? Is your ‘friend from out of town’ still living yet?”
“Er…yeees?” Igrainne scratched her face awkwardly. Her lord cousin was staring directly at her, and she realised that she needed to tell the truth now — he’d hear parts of the story sooner or later, anyway. “Okay, don’t freak out, but she’s actually a succubus.”
“...I beg your pardon.”
“It’s not what you think! Remember the Avernus invasion of K’ul Goran last year? Long story short, we turned this succubus into a badger and kidnapped her and made it look like a devil from Avernus took her. That tricked her demon lord into attacking Zariel’s forces, but...once that blew over, he thought Amaunet had betrayed him, and so she had nowhere to go.” She paused. “I ran into her again in a lady’s house in Sigil. She is, um, working as a maidservant. I felt really bad for her! So I said, ‘Why don’t I take you on holiday in the Dawnlands to make it up to you?’”
“And you concealed this fact from me, because…?”
“Because I know you’d assume the worst! See, you’re already looking at me as if I did something wrong.” She pointed a finger in his face, which only served to deepen his frown. “I swear to the Goddess, nothing happened. I was too busy trying to keep her out of trouble to do anything, anyway. Even the guys I hired to bodyguard her didn’t lay a finger on her. Well, Ivan really wanted to, but he managed to restrain himself in the end, after I told him that she looked really shitty as a badger. The other guys, Carnán and Glint, were on perfect behaviour.”
“Trouble? What exactly did she do?”
Igrainne hesitated. “Ummm...well first, she wanted me to help her shoplift from The Heights of Fashion. Like, it was a lot of clothes. I said no, I was going to pay for everything anyway, and she relented. Or I thought she did, because she sneakily grabbed a scarf on our way out. Luckily, Carnán spotted that and we put it back. To be honest though, those clothes ended up costing me a hundred plats, so maybe stealing wasn’t such a bad idea. I mean, is that sort of price normal with fancy clothes?”
“Well, Mavis Thovian specialises in haute couture, so no, nothing about The Height of Fashion is — in any sense of the word — standard,” replied Jaezred, a little wide-eyed after hearing about that price tag. “However, if you were buying a lot of pieces, then it isn’t terribly surprising either.”
“She tried to pull some shit at The Four Fair Winds too. She ordered, like, a ton of seafood and barely touched them. I asked why, and she said she doesn’t even like seafood. Then she plucked a strand of her own hair and put it on the food, and made a fuss about it by pretending it was the chef’s. All that just for a free dessert!” The half-drow sighed as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “Don’t worry, I paid for everything in the end…”
At that, the judgemental expression on Jaezred’s face melted into something softer, and he chuckled. “Oh, so that was your friend. The staff of the Winds were not very happy about it. But it sounds like you dodged trouble in Daring Heights, so what prevented you from reaching Port Ffirst?”
“We were staying overnight at Fort Ettin, the whole party in one room so we could all guard Amaunet. We took watches and pretty much everyone noticed an illusion set up outside the window. Amaunet started freaking out a little, she was hugging me and crying and stuff.” Igrainne looked contemplative for a moment. “I didn’t know demons were capable of being that emotional, to be honest. It sounds silly, saying it out loud now, because of course demons can feel basic emotions, right? Anyway, turns out she was right to panic, because her ex-demon lord Bal’tazz’narr did just come to the Material Plane to kill her himself.”
“Oh. I suppose that would be enough to prematurely end your trip.”
“Heh! Yeah. We booked it out of there, just ran for the Angelbark Portal with a massive demon lord chasing us. Made it by the skin of our teeth. He wrecked huge parts of the forest, the sour bastard. Hate that guy. One day, I’m gonna go to the Abyss and beat him up.”
Jaezred just sighed and sipped from his mug.
“You know, despite the arsehole demon ruining half our plans, Amaunet was pretty happy in the end. She still got her new clothes and a day off. She doesn’t hate me for ruining her life anymore. Oh, and she gave me this.”
Igrainne took out a small metal brooch from her pocket — a little pink heart with an arrow pierced through it. As her fingers touched it, she felt the pulse of a heartbeat from the warm steel, and an image of Amaunet’s chest rising and falling flashed through her mind. A blush rapidly spread across her cheeks. It was almost enough to make her forget that Jaezred was right in front of her, both eyebrows currently shooting up his forehead.
He fixed his young cousin with a discerning gaze, mouth set to a hard line. “Do you like her, this Amaunet?” he asked.
Once the surprise at the point-blank question had worn off, Igrainne shrugged. “Bit pointless to ask that, isn’t it?” she answered with a smile as she pinned the brooch over her left breast. “She’s a succubus. And if that doesn’t kill me, Mum will. And Goddess knows you would throw a fit, too.”
“Indeed, you would have gotten an earful of lectures,” he muttered.
“There you go again, sounding like an old man.” She nudged him lightly in the ribs. “What are you, my grandfather or something?”
He narrowed his eyes on her. Igrainne thought that was the end of it, and could not have anticipated his arm pulling her into a soft headlock and his free hand messing up her hair whilst she was trapped and helpless. She cried out in protest and eventually pried herself from his grasp with a head full of clumped-up hair.
“I’ll get you back for that!” Despite her words, she was grinning from ear to ear, pleasantly surprised by his sudden playfulness. She had never even seen him be jovial. Jaezred, horsing around? It was almost unthinkable.
After his laughter subsided, he looked at her with an uncertain expression. “Listen, I…”
There was a long pause as he appeared to be hesitating. But before she could ask what was wrong, he spoke up again. “Do you know where Lucan’s Leathers is? I’m supposed to meet up with that boy, Toothy.”
“Oh,” she said, and lifted an arm to point west. “If you go back into the city on the Swamp Road, turn right just before Brook Street. It’s there in a little nook on Costoso Street. Funny, I thought you were about to say something completely different!”
“Right,” was all he replied with.
